There are an untold number of Dracula movies and Frankenstein movies - the pair of which probably surpass the number of Hollywood westerns in existence. By my count, there have been three Nosferatu films, one which is in-name only yet all three sort of deal with the famous Count Dracula. Yet it is Werner Herzog's 1979 remake of "Nosferatu" that is easily the greatest vampire film I have ever seen. Atmospheric to its core with a muted palette of grainy colors and muted performances and only the slightest amount of blood on screen, "Nosferatu" is the vampire film where we have more compassion for the famous Count than ever before.
The story based on Bram Stoker is nothing new and it is fairly straightforward in terms of the standard events in its prose, despite changes in mood, text and themes (a necessity when you consider Bram's wife sued the makers of the original "Nosferatu" for copyright infringement). Jonathan Harker (Bruno Ganz) is commissioned to sell a housing property in Wismar, Germany to Count Dracula and travels to Transylvania; a very arduous journey. The frightened Transylvanian townspeople tell him to stay away from that castle. Harker eventually meets the fragile Count and is eventually held prisoner, bitten by the vampire and away we go with the usual shenanigans. The difference here is in the execution of such oft-told material, imagined with realistically conveyed surroundings and a near-documentary look of people (the gypsies seem more real than ever before) and some expressionistic use of shadows (though not nearly as sharp as they were in the 1922 film). This time, though, director Werner Herzog aims for a deeper reality and a deeper hopelessness when it comes to Count Dracula. Klaus Kinski (absolutely magnificent as the Count) shows some layers of humanity in this Dracula with his long nails, bald head, two protruding fangs, and cold, dead white skin. When the Drac sees blood on Harker's finger after clumsily cutting bread, black space surrounds Dracula in close-up whereas in a master shot, there is no black space at all (it is almost as if Herzog is aiming for horror when Dracula is expected to snarl and act like a panther-like creature at the sight of blood). The Count does not act like a creature of the night who relishes the act of sucking blood; instead he's a wounded animal who has been doing this for one century too many. He retreats from sucking Harker's finger yet then proceeds with some nuance of regret. "It is the oldest remedy in the book," says the Count.
Later on, Dracula fancies Harker's wife, Lucy (the luscious Isabelle Adjani), as is often the case with most versions, but there is something more than a lovely neck to bite. The Count wants to feel love again, which he can't, and to be loved, which he also can't, and this initial confrontation between Dracula and the remorseful Lucy doesn't result in any bearing of fangs - she is initially frightened but she also feels pity for the Count. So when we get to the closing scenes where Lucy holds Dracula in an embrace as he bites her neck all night, you sense Lucy is not just sacrificing herself but also feeling a twinge of attraction to this creature (who also tries to pull her nightgown up to her bosom though she stops him). Considering Lucy loves Harker and they walk on the beach in an earlier, stunning sequence of forlorn beauty, they still sleep in separate beds (you have to wonder if these two ever got intimate at all beyond embraces and sweet kisses).
"Nosferatu" obviously differs from the original black-and-white classic in its slightly monochromatic look - substituting something far more graphic in terms of its grayish scale of soiled, decaying matter. All the actors look, excepting the gypsies, like emaciated automatons who know death is lurking (Lucy with her pale, translucent skin looks like a vampire before she's ever bitten). There is no passion or excitement to the denizens of Wismar. One sad, almost despairing sequence shows the townspeople merrily singing and dancing and dining in the outside town square, celebrating what little life they have left to live after the Black Plague has spread thanks to hundreds of rats brought by the Count. Everything in the film is washed-out, colorless, including the Harker journey to Dracula's castle complemented with music cues from Wagner's towering opera "Das Rhinegold."
"Nosferatu" complements and enhances the F.W. Murnau "Nosferatu" and that is an unusual comparison when it comes to remakes. Whereas Max Schreck's Dracula (or Count Orlok depending on which silent film version you see) was a rat-like creature devoid of humanity, Klaus Kinski's is all humanity - a Count who is tired from the repetition of barely living century after century. The curse exhausts him and it is a cruel existence. Dracula recognizes he is still human after all despite being a creature of the undead. Undeniably cruel.
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