With Punxsutawney Phil claiming to see his shadow, heās condemning us to six more weeks of winter. Whether you believe in that feat of prognostication or not, the bitter wind and dampness is here to stay for a while. We might as well settle down for some equally spine-tingling entertainment. For those seek this out, youāre in luck. Two films are now in theaters which I highly recommend, regardless of your horrific content.
Upon most audiences’ first glance, Nosferatu seems eerily familiar. One fellow filmgoer in the theater whispered, āHey, isnāt this just Dracula?ā I wanted to whisper back that that was the point.
A little history, director F. W. Murnau wanted to direct Bram Stokerās novel but didnāt secure rights. So, he and others tweaked the story, changing character names and plot details just enough to get away with it. Or so they thought. Stokerās widow Florence sued to have said film destroyed. However, some prints survived and a masterpiece was born.
Only one other time in the 70s was this film remade. But here in 2024, Robert Eggers brought his love of the original as well as his own moody flair, making one of the most definitive vampire films of the century. The director has a penchant for painstakingly recreating time periods down to even the language being used, from ancient Norse in The Northman to the proto-Romanian spoken by Count Orlock here. Bill Skarsgard brings gravitas to our vampire that is both captivating and shocking. When he says he is an appetite and nothing more, he means it. Nicolas Hoult plays a young solicitor, come to sell a British home for the Count to live. Sounds familiar, but Eggers and co. put so much dreamlike visuals and coldly radiant production that it feels like a silent film. His wife Ellen is back at home worrying about him and sleepwalking to nightmares of Orlock, going mad with each night. Lily Rose-Depp redeems herself from previous work with such a physically and mentally demanding role that she is beyond up for the task for. Between her and Skarsgard, it is hard to say who has the most unhinged performance.
Eggers adds characters, but they donāt crowd out the leads. Frequent collaborator Willem Defoe turns in another stellar performance as the knowing professor. One of the most unsettling films I have seen all year, Eggers has a way to make you jump and eerily freaked out at the same time. At one point Ellen asks āProfessor, my dreams grow darker.ā Mine too, mine too.
To something no less somber but more contemporary, Presence is the latest from director Steven Soderbergh. As prolific as he is, it is a wonder he hasnāt dipped his toe into supernatural horror until now. But I am glad to see that he has. The premise seems simple; a family moves into an old home only to find something lingers there. What sets this apart is from the very beginning, the cameraās point of view is the ghost/entity itself. Gliding the expanse of the home and hovering over while the family sleeps, we are treated to a domestic drama more than Paranormal Activity. Lucy Liu and Chris Sullivan play wife and husband while their teenage son and daughter go to school and study. We see family fights, hear of the trauma some of faced; all the while wondering who the ghost is and its intent. Writer David Knopp employs clockwork precision to each tiny reveal in this slow burn of a movie. Kudos to the camera operators and foley artists for setting the tone and mood up front, making the shots almost effortless throughout. If you donāt believe in ghosts, you might as the credits roll. There was certainly a specter haunting my thoughts on the drive home. A great think piece with a tight runtime of eight-five minutes, this is a great film to maul over with friends after.
