Silent films are often seen as nothing more than a fading echo of the past — a past marked by technological limitations that left the film world enveloped in silence and dreary grays. With the progression of technology, the defining elements of silent films seem outdated, but the technological limitations of silent films, like the 1922 film Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror, made viewers more terrified than ever before. The best scares are left up to the imagination, yet modern films do anything but. Filmmaker Robert Eggers, however, may be the revitalizing force that the horror genre so desperately needs with his yet-to-be-released rendition of Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.
Nosferatu’s storyline follows that of Bram Stoker’s Dracula — only with minor changes. In fact, German filmmaker F. W. Murnau faced legal repercussions from Stoker’s widow in response to his apparent plagiarism. The film, however, had already made its way to the United States, where it would remain a cult classic.
Nosferatu was the epitome of German expressionism, a film movement in the 1920s characterized by the rejection of realism and the incorporation of gothic elements and distorted set designs. The style was well-received by Americans who seemingly craved its psychologically disturbing nature.
However, Murnau’s adaptation of Dracula inspired other adaptations outside of German expressionism and horror; Count Orlok, Murnau’s version of Count Dracula, was featured as a character in Spongebob Squarepants. Writer Jay Lender was inspired by pictures of Count Orlok he had seen in a magazine from his childhood, leading the crew to ultimately implement him as a non-sequitur character that periodically made an appearance on the show. The character was intentionally introduced as “Nosferatu” rather than his actual, lesser-known name Count Orlok. Because of the Spongebob Squarepants easter egg, Nosferatu, or rather, Count Orlok, seems to be known by younger generations as nothing more than a vaguely familiar Spongebob character that is perhaps a reference to something else.
To filmmaker Robert Eggers, though, the character means something more; In 2024, his own take on Nosferatu is set to be released on Christmas Day. According to The New York Times, Eggers first encountered Nosferatu and Count Orlok through a grainy, poor-quality VHS tape when he was a child. The lack of clarity made for a terrifyingly ambiguous film — one of nightmares — just as German expressionism had intended. Instead of perceiving the film like many do today (silly, low budget, outdated), Eggers seemingly understood its cultural impacts and the genuine potential for terror that the film has; Eggers looked at it through the lens of someone 100 years ago, as it was meant to be seen. However, there is irony in the fact that the technology of today might be more of a limitation for Eggers than a tool.
Eggers viewed Nosferatu in all its glory when it was nothing more than pure grain and terror. If poor quality and ambiguity are hallmarks of Nosferatu — and silent films as a whole — then how could a modern rendition possibly recreate such perfect imperfection? Eggers’ film must somehow implement the defining film-making methods of 1922 whilst working with modern technology that actively thwarts such a goal. Is modernity the demise of true terror? Perhaps we’ll see on Christmas Day.
