Nosferatu (2024).

Review #2327: Nosferatu.

Cast: 

Bill Skarsgård (Count Orlok / Nosferatu), Nicholas Hoult (Thomas Hutter), Lily-Rose Depp (Ellen Hutter), Aaron Taylor-Johnson (Friedrich Harding), Emma Corrin (Anna Harding), Willem Dafoe (Prof. Albin Eberhart Von Franz), Ralph Ineson (Dr. Wilhelm Sievers), and Simon McBurney (Herr Knock) Directed by Robert Eggers (#780 - The Witch, #1833 - The Northman)

Review: 

"A lot of people talk about my films as stylized. But aside from the fairy tale composition, it’s not intended to be stylized. I over-rehearse with the intention of it being in the actors’ muscle memory, so that it doesn’t feel like hitting a mark. If you’re doing expressionist cinema, you are aware of the artifice so much, because it’s stylizing the world in a way that is completely unrealistic. Here, obviously — you know, I’m sick of talking about my research, too, but obviously the verisimilitude of the material world is very important to me."

In 1922, a movie from a cheap studio came out with unusual circumstances. Prana Film was behind one and only one film: this one, which had been founded by Enrico Dieckmann and Albin Grau, with the latter being an occultist artist (supposedly, he was inspired to do the film based on an experience in World War I, where he met a Serbian farmer that apparently had a father rise from the grave to feed on blood); Grau designed the sets and costumes, complete with making up a letter with "Enochian" symbols that shows up in the film. The duo brought Henrik Galeen in to write a screenplay that would be inspired by the 1897 novel Dracula (as written by Bram Stoker) and F.W. Murnau as a director. Of course, Florence Balcombe, the widow of Stoker, did not like hearing that someone made a movie freely adapted from Dracula and issued a lawsuit, with the result being the negative and all prints of the film ordered to be destroyed (incidentally: years after the lawsuit, she did grant the rights of the book to a guy who made it into a play for the theater which, well, she didn't get the entitlements for it). But the movie, unlike Balcombe, would endure in the public sphere. Over a half-century later, Werner Herzog was eager to make his own "homage" of Nosferatu and waited until the copyright for Dracula to enter the public domain to make what became Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979). which had the names of the book characters incorporated for a curious outcome of artful terror (it set itself in 1850, whereas both the 1922 and 2024 film are set in 1838). As a youth, Eggers found an image of its star in Max Schreck that had him obsessed enough to later direct a stage version of Nosferatu. Eggers had first been tapped to direct a Nosferatu remake since the first announcement being in 2015. Each version has their own distinct edge in terms of the climax (the 1922 movie details a "pure-hearted woman" offering blood of her own will, the 1979 movie features an awakened sick man, and, well, "the purity of dawn" is something you have to see here).

I'm not quite sure where I would rank it among movies involving vampires, but it probably will rest pretty high, managing to outrank directors who tried to make their own Dracula movies such as Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992), for example. But with this "folk vampire" story, one will have plenty to highlight in a movie that focuses on a psychic and erotic connection with a creature of pure evil that emanates haunting atmosphere most films would dream to have. It is the perils of being blinded by perceived enlightened times at the cost of folk tales. With a film like this, we get to participate in the ritual of folk terror that clearly had plenty of investment from Eggers in history and curiosity (for one, Eggers had already read Montague Summers in terms of his work on vampires but obviously one would wonder about the imitation of Vlad the Impaler and the works of Jean-Martin Charcot in terms of hysteria). In short, Eggers has crafted his own legend of unsettling nature that earns every moment it crafts in terror with craftsmanship made from love that is deliberate in its pacing (132 minutes) for all of the senses possible. Interestingly, Skarsgard had read for the role later played by Hoult (of course, I can't imagine what the film would've ended up with Harry Styles or Anya Taylor-Joy as leads). Skarsgard (as aided by opera singer Ásgerður Júníusdóttir in lowering his vocal range) is exquisite in his unsettling nature as a rotting Transylvanian nobleman corpse. He ends up wrapped in darkness and makeup that makes him pretty distinct in an obsession and rotting core that one can certainly see as both repulsive and seductive. Wrapped in agency as a victim of choices (most significantly the ones to start and close the movie) is a wonderful Rose-Depp that seems to understand the darkness that lies beneath the surface of the time one is wrapped up into with a grace that works well in selling this gothic tragedy. Hoult is the most normal of the folks in the main group, which namely means a man having his 19th century preconceptions shattered (consider that in this version, he is even warned to not go to the Carpathian Mountains by his wife), which he handles with worthy timing. Rounding out the cast is a mix of strange seasoned dignity, whether that involves the conventional in Ineson, the shaken Taylor-Johnson (who gets to have a disturbing last highlight), or, well, the occult magic of Dafoe, who plays the role with gusto in terms of shattering belief that dominates the screen in a way that is distinct from the usual "vampire hunter" role because of how committed he is mystical devotion. Of course, Corrin and McBurney also do well in the cast (the latter proves quite suitable in raving madness). Above all, this is a tremendously gorgeous movie to view in Gothic despair (as captured by Jarin Blaschke), one in which there are plenty of moments to simply gaze in curiosity, whether that involves a nighttime ritual (consider what they do there when compared to how things go in the last scene involving vampire confrontation) or the leadup to meeting Orlok on his realm. As a whole, it is a charmer of the grotesque that builds its dread for righteous furor for a damn good time that likely will improve with further viewings. It is a tossup to figure out what lurks best in the totally-not Dracula adaptations, but you will not go wrong here.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Deadpool & Wolverine.

Review #2236: Deadpool & Wolverine.

Cast: 

Ryan Reynolds (Wade Wilson / Deadpool), Hugh Jackman (Logan / Wolverine), Emma Corrin (Cassandra Nova), Matthew Macfadyen (Mr. Paradox), Dafne Keen (Laura / X-23), Jon Favreau (Happy Hogan), Morena Baccarin (Vanessa), Rob Delaney (Peter), with Leslie Uggams (Blind Al), Jennifer Garner (Elektra), Wesley Snipes (Blade), and Channing Tatum (Gambit) Directed by Shawn Levy.

Review: 

I will admit that I liked what I saw of Deadpool (2016) and Deadpool 2 (2018), but there is probably something a bit strange to my inner self that I didn't write as much as I thought I did about why I thought they were good. I am then reminded that the character (as created by Fabian Nicieza and Rob Liefeld that first showed in publication in 1990) being once described as looking like "Ryan Reynolds crossed with a Shar Pei" apparently sprung a desire for Reynolds to, well, want to involved in making a Deadpool film for years (we do not speak of X-Men Origins: Wolverine) before it actually became a thing (as credited by a certain leak of test footage). I generally forget about seeing films a second time around unless I really feel like it, but I imagine that the pace and energy of those two films worked more often than not to go with commitment from Reynolds that was worthwhile enough for most folks. Honestly though, I didn't really care about the idea of trying to pull the character for spinoffs because, well, keeping things simple really is sometimes better (of course I still can't really get used to the term "20th Century Studios", so there we are). But sure, I suppose six years between Deadpool films is a fair accomplishment, particularly since my interest in seeing comic book movies (particularly sequels) has become more of a coinflip than ever. With that in mind, it isn't too much of a surprise to see five credited writers with Ryan Reynolds, Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, Zeb Wells, and Shawn Levy (Reese and Wernick wrote the last two films, incidentally) to see both the return of Deadpool and Wolverine (as last played by Hugh Jackman seven years ago that surely isn't referenced here).

It is easy to say the movie is fine. It is comfortably decent in a way that I somehow should have seen coming and yet here we are with a movie that will accomplish its goals of R-rated entertainment in the realm best equated to a checkbox. Okay, maybe that isn't completely fair or meant to be an insult, but there were times during the 128-minute runtime (surprise, that is the longest of the series) where I was wondering where the line was drawn in making the film when it came to the meaning of "restraint" for what is basically a road movie. It seems to aim for being the goofball kind of comic movie that maybe ends up more like the drunk uncle type of goofiness that works best in the actual dynamic between its two main actors more than the bits and pieces of formula, which could either be about its comedic tone or, well, in its action. Jackman practically steps right back into the gear he always managed to achieve without strain or hesitation in terms of a cool loner with physicality and the timing that was a clear favorite anytime he was on the screen in the days of future past. That manages to make for a dynamic with Reynolds that is pretty funny mostly because each actually seem to have a good time being around each other in the style of a road movie. Reynolds and his love of such a gloriously violent silly character is evident still even with such time spent masked, this is for sure. Corrin is slightly effective in the rote sense of adversary (think back to the last two Deadpool film villains and get back to me) without really sticking the landing by the time of the ending because of that usual MCU complaint that still seems true: it's hard to make a neat villain when you know an effects show (or silly cameo) is coming. I actually am a bit bummed at the little time spent with the actual Deadpool supporting cast, particularly when Macfadyen only just manages to distract one in a few neat moments of timing. Evidently, there were plans to do a "Gambit" film with Tatum as the title character that ended up never happening, so here he gets to do a bit with that character, complete with an accent that I'm sure Peter Sellars would've loved in absurdity. But even with that accent, well, Snipes takes the cake as (still) the one and only Blade when it comes to timing. I suppose there is something to say about Garner returning for a bit to an old role, but Keen does better in one little campfire scene than the entirety of Garner and that one particular joke used to clearly draw laughs (there is one other cameo that drags to the most obvious death scene, but whatever). 

It only just manages to hit the line of not overrunning its welcome (more times than not) in humor, but I sure as hell can understand where that schtick can really please or really drag, and this was one of those films where even liking a film means having a moment where you hold your hand in a twirling fashion and I think you get the picture. I'm sure there are folks that will enjoy that deluge of Deadpools in its diversionary and amusing tactics, but you know, I do wonder if someone got drunk when watching Spider-Verse and thought, "hey!". I find it peculiar to see this as a sort of tribute (well, the logo is found in the sand at one point but it plays "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)...which is a song old enough for me to remember hearing it in my elementary video-book nearly 20 years ago) to those days of 20th Century Fox-Marvel films, because like an old high school friend that you used to know, that stuff was already buried neatly without the need to bring it all up again (such as the yellow suit, which I don't really understand why people care that much when the "actor" is what matters, but whatever; however, I will not argue on saying the mask looks too goofy for that one scene it gets used). As a whole, I don't usually find myself trying to wrestle with assessing a film as average as this one, but there is a strange sense of trying to figure out where the line gets drawn between having one's patience tested and accepting the overall finish. I was fine with the movie in terms of where it finished for entertainment in the plundering world of familiar images and bits that come and go that one could be forgiven for thinking of as a pastiche or even a pastiche of a pastiche. The enjoyment of the film for me lies firmly in the middle, one that proves the importance of not pushing and rushing everything in fulfillment even when just making it in the margins.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next up: another theme month for August.