Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens (1922)

reviewed by
Bill Chambers


NOSFERATU: THE FIRST VAMPIRE ***1/2 (out of four) -by Bill Chambers (wchamber@netcom.ca) (Life is harsh; your website shouldn't be. http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Set/7504 aka FILM FREAK CENTRAL)

starring Max Schreck, Gustav von Wangenheim, Greta Schroder, John Gottowt written by Henrik Galeen directed by F.W. Murnau

Available in an all new video edition from Arrow Entertainment ($29.95), with an introduction by David Carradine, written & produced by Wayne J. Keeley

F. W. Murnau's career ended sadly and prematurely. The German director of such classics as "Sunrise" and "The Last Laugh" died in a car accident shortly after signing a deal to make American pictures at Paramount. Murnau was reportedly a giant man, well over six feet, a towering figure probably incapable of anything but a grand entrance. Which brings us to "Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror": surely he felt a kinship with his title character, the looming vampire embodied by intimidating Max Schreck; in one of the most indelible images in film history, silent or otherwise, Schreck rises from his grave, gnarled hands outstretched, and he's so big that part of his head is cropped by the top of the frame.

The plot of "Nosferatu..." is lifted--unauthorized--from Bram Stoker's "Dracula". The British Hutter is an eager real estate man assigned to visit and discuss future living arrangements with Count Orlock of Transylvania. He leaves behind girlfriend Emily, only to discover Orlock's secret--he's a bloodsucker--and struggle to return to England before the nosferatu reaches his lady love. In addition to Schreck's performance, the cinematography and effects are outstanding.

Arrow Video's digitally remastered version of the classic is something of a mixed-coffin. The cover art features a red-tinted, hairy, goateed vampire staring straight at you, his fanged mouth agape, while the bodies of two sexy, writhing women entice you below. Trouble is, Murnau's monster is pale-faced, bald, pointy-eared, and non-goateed, and there isn't a single sexy, writhing woman to be found in his movie. This sort of misleading packaging makes little sense when one recalls the countless number of ghouslish scenes in the film from which cool cover art could have been extracted. Additionally, notifying the viewer that this is in fact Murnau's film seems like afterthought since his name and the genuine title are written in small print below our goateed vampire.

That said, a good mastering job has been performed on the film itself. The original elements are not in the best condition--non-studio silents were unlucky in their preservation-- so we're still dealing with a slightly washed out, scratched, jittering image. But at least the day and night scenes are tinted sepia and blue, respectively, especially helpful to an audience who may question Nosferatu's waltzing around during what seems like sunlight (it took a lot of light to expose stock in the twenties). The title cards have been redone, and they are legible, accurate, and digitally altered to flicker--a very nice touch. (Even the opening copyright warning flickers!) The score has been replaced by music from Type O Negative, a hard-rock group, arguably gothic, and their songs underscore the film nicely-- certainly the coolest video a band can ask for. When our hero, Hutter, first steps onto the doomed carriage to Count Orlock's castle, we hear a well-timed "Now you're dead!" from lead singer Peter Steele.

David Carradine makes an appropriately vampiric host; he fiddles with a blade and cane while introducing the film. After the feature, which runs about 63 minutes, is included a new music video from Type O Negative, the black-and-white fang-fest "Black No. 1". Of course, "Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror" is the main attraction, and while my latest viewing raised questions (Why is the woman called Emily in the title cards but "Mina"--as Bram Stoker called her--in Hutter's letters?, for instance), it made me realize how much this movie has inspired and been stolen from. Coppola's 1992 "Bram Stoker's Dracula" owes a great stylistic debt to Murnau's masterpiece, but the one thing it couldn't thieve was the original's abstract charms. This latest incarnation from Arrow will probably- -like the rescored "Metropolis" a few years back--turn a silent film into more palpable entertainment for the latest generation of film freaks.


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