*Spoiler Warning
I ended 2024 with a mix of romance and horror- obviously by taking a trip to the movie theatre. December was a month full of box office draws, with films ranging from A Complete Unknown, Mufasa, and Kraven the Hunter (alright, maybe not this one). But none compared to Robert Eggers’s gothic horror film, Nosferatu. I may be a little biased in that statement, as I spent the last few months reading Dracula in anticipation of the film’s release, but I believe that no film of 2024 has shocked viewers quite like Nosferatu did, which is evident in the discourse about the film on social media.
In case you missed it, Robert Eggers’s Nosferatu is a remake of the 1922 silent film of the same name, a German Expressionist film directed by F. W. Murnau. It’s the film adaptation of Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel, Dracula, and follows much of the plot from the novel, save for major characters’ names and changing the setting from Britain to Germany. The small budget one-camera produced picture is iconic in its own right, as it created the idea that vampires can be killed by sunlight, is considered to be one of the first horror films, and is regarded as one of the most influential films of the German Expressionist film movement. But enough with the history lesson, all you really need to know is that Nosferatu is about a real estate agent who meets a vampire named Count Orlok, who then preys on his wife and wreaks havoc on their town.
So what about the 2024 version makes it so controversial? In Eggers’s own words, Nosferatu is “the story of an outsider, a woman who doesn’t belong in the epoch she was born in and is as much a victim of nineteenth century society as she is the vampire… the one ‘person’ she finds a connection with is an abuser and a true demonic force – a twisted love triangle of obsession.” A simple google search would reveal that Eggers’s artistic vision was well received- by journalists and movie critics, the intended audience. But how about casual movie-goers? Outside the world of journal publications and film-magazines, users took to Tiktok and Twitter to express their opinions about the film.
The first major complaint was the fact that Count Orlock was not attractive, a deviation from common vampire films. Eggers’s Count Orlok—a grotesque, unromantic figure—rejects decades of sexy vampires. With this, Eggers forces viewers to confront a narrative that isn’t so easily-palatable or romanticized but instead reflects horror in its rawest form. For some, this was refreshing; for others, it was irredeemable.
The controversial dynamic between Ellen and Count Orlok—akin to that of an abuser and victim—was another major complaint on social media, with many dismissing the film as disturbing or inappropriate. Unlike romanticized portrayals of vampires, Nosferatu presents their relationship for what it really is: grotesque and predatory, challenging audiences to confront themes of obsession, power, and societal constraints. However, the discomfort sparked by this narrative reveals a long ignored gap in media literacy, as many reduced the film to a binary of “acceptable” or “unacceptable.” In an era of doom scrolling among 30-second videos, films like Nosferatu challenge us to actively engage beyond the surface-level content, something not all audiences may be prepared for.