watching Nosferatu in theatres made me have thoughts about gender roles, societal expectations and also this movie is just really fucking good so I want to talk about it.

 

I watched Nosferatu in cinemas a few weeks back at this point. I was letting it simmer in my head for a bit before I talked about it, but I quickly realized that I was continuing to lose my touch on all those emotions the film had managed to evoke in me. I subsequently proceeded to make a long bluesky thread about it because that's how we roll these days. The micro-blogging to macro-blogging pipeline is so intensely real! I suppose I can also allow myself to be more indulgent in my writing, without the restraints of 300 words set upon all my thoughts. Usually, this scares me, but I am trying to get over that hurdle.

So some backstory first. I have always heard a lot of praise for Robert Eggers as a director from my cinephile friends. To that end, back in 2023 I watched Egger's "The Witch" with my roommate. It was a very proper experience as we watched the film at midnight, with little to take us out of the oppressive atmosphere painstakingly molded by the film. It was a gorgeously shot film through and through. Excellent shot layouts, strong lighting work and Egger's particular way of handling color grading really made the film look this very specific way that continues to stay with me even now. It nails this hostile, barren emptiness, without coming across as merely lifeless. Or at least, not for long. One of the film's biggest strengths to me is how much it utilizes the setting itself as an active antagonist. It twists, it roils, it is malevolent but most of all, it is changing. It is a lonely, impoverished land but it also laughs at the humans trying to take from it what it can't give. No, what it won't give. There's a lot of unpack with the film and frankly, I would need to re-watch it again because my impressions of it remain vague amidst memories of some exceptionally strong performances. The point is, I really liked it. I thought it was excellent and I was keen to watch the director's other works.

That was the plan, anyway. An unrealized one. As lots of plans are for me. Still, when I heard that Eggers would be directing Nosferatu and I had the chance to watch it in theaters because of rather fortuitous timing of the domestic release, I wanted to do my due diligence. By which I of course mean, I watched the original fi-, no I read Dracula by Bram Stoker instead.

A lot of my technical appreciation for Nosferatu are the same ones I had for his prior work. While I don't find the setting and locales as compelling, I do think they serve their purpose very well. And some minor editing annoyances aside, it is a remarkably well paced film. It's also so incredibly well acted. There are performances in Nosferatu that genuinely left me gasping for air in their unabated brilliance. The realization only hit me later when I felt my eyes starting to ache. They had remained glued to the screen, utterly mesmerized.

So, what's the film about? Set in the early 1800s, young Ellen pleads for a supernatural being to ease her loneliness. Her cries awaken a mysterious creature who makes her pledge herself to him eternally. In 1838... Okay, I am not going to just copy the wikipedia plot summary here. If you haven't watched the film, this is your spoiler warning. Please watch it first! I can't stop you from reading ahead despite that, but I will judge.

My love for the film stems partly from how smart Nosferatu is as a spin on the original Dracula novel. I adore how much more interested it is in exploring the human condition and using the supernatural as this manifestation of the worst parts of ourselves than just an incomprehensibly deadly threat. The core thesis of the film, to me, rests upon that one line, "Does evil come from within us or from beyond?" A lot of the film blurs the line between fantastical events and a critique of the cultural and societal norms of the era, in a way that the original Dracula only hints at. An important part that stuck out to me is that Count Orlok the titular Nosferatu, unlike Dracula, isn't a creature who was hungering for power and domination over humans or trying to spread his influence over the world. He lay asleep in his tomb, until Ellen called out for him, in her loneliness.

I will preface the rest of my ramblings by saying that I am merely a guy on the internet who really has no idea of the trials and tribulations faced by women back then or now. And I won't pretend to. This is all just my personal thoughts on it. As someone who thinks himself to be fairly observant. I am also going to use the word "gender" here a lot, and just for the sake of this article I will be looking at it from the same hetero-normative lens that the world would like to standardize. My personal views on it are as follows: Trans rights are human rights. LGBTQ+ people deserve the world. And as Judith Butler says in their interview, "Once you decide that a single vulnerable minority can be sacrificed, you’re operating within a fascist logic. That means there might be a second one you’re willing to sacrifice and a third, a fourth. Then what happens?" Abandoning trans people is indeed fascist logic.

It's important I say this because I read the opening scene as highlighting the sheer isolated nature of how women were brought up in that era and how much society was willing to shun her for giving up on her "purity". It's also what makes Thomas' love for Ellen so compelling to me, the fact that he's willing to love all of her and heal the trauma that was left behind. But why is this supposed to be such a standout anyway? Isn't it natural for a partner to support one-another unconditionally and comfort them during their hardships? To accept all of them, especially the ugliness. There is a lot to unpack in the film as to how the film handles both Thomas and Ellen's character and how much they both defy the common gender sensibilities you would typically expect from a movie of its kind. Or, maybe not?

Maybe you did expect Thomas to absolutely shit himself when confronted by such incomprehensible horror. Maybe you thought it was absolutely natural (relatively speaking) the way he reacted, and how violently disturbed both his mind and body were from the whole ordeal. But maybe a part of you also thought, uncritical of him personally, but just as a mere observation that Thomas is kind of a wimp. He has resolve, but not the courage. His words ring empty in the face of the terror that confronts all of them. But why does that matter? It matters because his character is held in sharp contrast to the established, well-off Friedrich Harding. By all accounts, Friedrich is the more "manly" of the two. His character is the perfect encapsulation of a posh, stoic businessman who talks big, acts brave, makes prompt decisions and is bound by reason and rationale.

A lot of what I said prior hangs on the assumption that there's a preexisting standard we hold either genders to within the boundaries of cultural and period-specific context. Society conditions people to act a very specific kind of way. What that way is has shifted over the years, but the broad strokes have remained the same even as we try and break out of the molds that patriarchy has set upon our daily lives. Deviation from that comes with mockery or joking jabs even from people who care because they have been preconditioned to judge what is not the norm. Society wants everyone and everything to fit into neat little boxes. It is the expectation for an individual to behave exactly the way they are "supposed" to, based on their family, background, culture, race and a myriad of different factors that shouldn't define them, but do. Not being able to comprehend the familiar scares them. And while that's not wholly unnatural, the reaction to that fear is what separates the curious, welcoming and open minded people with the fear mongering "anti-woke" demographic that doesn't want to understand and only seeks to remove what they don't.

Another big difference from the novel comes from how much more broken the people in the film are. Dracula features some of the most courageous, progressive and unbelievably kind people I have read in media. Bram Stoker wrote such genuinely strong female characters! It's quite surprising to read a story from that time-period (and honestly, even in the context of contemporary stories) where the men respect the strengths of the women in their life to that extent. But Nosferatu is so much more interested in examining the tendencies of the culture, how much science and logic has bound the world completely and how much people are willing to fold into themselves for the sake of their loved ones. In that way, it honestly makes the original novel feel so very distant because the characters in Dracula are so level-headed in their belief systems, rarely ever falling prey to emotions during pivotal moments. It makes the movie in turn, feel a lot more grounded as an interpretation of Dracula.

The family that hosts Ellen while Thomas is away is an interesting focal point for that during the film's runtime. There are moments throughout the film when the Harding family aren't happy to put up with Ellen, moments when they refer to her as a burden in hushed tones and disregard her genuine mental health issues as childhood idiosyncrasies. But they remain cordial, if a bit harsh at times and treat her as they deem acceptable within the boundaries of how cordial a posh, well-off family needs to be. It's this mask of politeness that gets torn off during the later half of the film, after Thomas returns traumatized and severely ill. We witness both Friedrich and Anna change in ways so entirely unique to their personality. Friedrich starts outright rejecting any and all explanations of Ellen's behavior that he can't comprehend. He can't accept that he can be wrong and later on he goes on to try and justify the abuse he put Ellen through. All because, he was being such a cordial host. How dare she complain and talk back to her oh-so-generous hosts.

Anna is different of course, because her love for Ellen is more like how one would love a wounded pet. It's really evident in the scene when they are sleeping together and she treats her like a small child. She thinks Ellen is damaged, sick and never grew up to be whole. Ellen doesn't need respect. She loves her but is complacent to the harm her husband put Ellen through, because she doesn't see her as another woman who is being bound and gagged against her will, she sees her as a broken toy that needs fixing. It's this gradual degradation of these cordial, friendly and gentle personas giving way to the people they really are inside.

To be very blunt and also because I can't really muster the literary talents of my brain to say this anymore eloquently- Ellen as a character is partly built on the foundation of being really fucking horny.

Now, now, hear me out.

To be more serious, it reads to me as a commentary on how much sex for recreational purposes, engaged in without the vow of marriage, was seen as an act of sin. Especially (and arguably mainly) women who were basically labeled as impure vessels of the devil if they engaged in acts of pleasure. Let's talk about that.

Say, I put forth a statement that goes along the lines of: "Women are generally forthright about their interests and emotions." Would you agree? Maybe you would think of stuff that might point to the contrary but as a generalized opinion, it does hold water, doesn't it? The same social tendencies that dictate how men behave are far more defined and rigid for women. It is considered okay for woman to have more hobbies and be emotionally vulnerable. It is not considered okay for woman to play most physically intensive sports. What should they play? Oh, "feminine" sports like badminton or archery. Women should be careful about the people they are with. They should always have boundaries in what they say. Fuck that noise, you say! And I vehemently agree. 

Society has continued to try and gaslight all of us from the day we were born. It's a generational trend really. The generalized expectations they try to teach us about each gender to the point that people, even partners, can't be fucking real with each other anymore. Everything is filtered through the lens of miserable binaries such as: "oh okay, a man said it so its probably random and I shouldn't take it seriously" followed by "oh, a woman said it so I shouldn't take it seriously because if I do it might be me being dumb and maybe she meant something completely different!" Of course, I am glad to see that over time a lot of us have struggled our way out of that cursed mire. Unfortunately, it's not been all of us. Even when its friends you have known all your life people will try and gaslight you into suspecting them. Because you are a "woman" and "woman can be manipulated". At least for men, you can get away fine if you just manage to come off as a socially outgoing guy. Follow the given template, so to speak. It's so fucking complicated on the other side though.

Emotionally vulnerable and interested in girly stuff? "Wow, she's such a crybaby."
Emotionally reserved and keeps to themselves? "Oof, talk about an aloof bitch."
Tomboy of any kind? "You should try and be more feminine and girly."
Dates a lot of people? "Wow, what a slut, she probably sells her body too."

There is genuinely no right answer. There is no template to follow. Which brings me back to Nosferatu.

We are never told in specifics why Ellen chose to call upon Nosferatu. But do we really need to know? Would it change anything, if say, we knew that she had a really isolated upbringing? If she was being emotionally and physically abused? We don't need to know because there is nothing to justify. Ellen made her own choices and while I have reservations about the thematic ramifications of the film in terms of how it ends, I can't dismiss the fact that she chose to live with those choices. 

Nosferatu wants Ellen. Wants to be one with her because he believes her to be not for the humankind. What Ellen's choice at the end ultimately signifies is that her love for the people around her. For Thomas, who loved her unconditionally. For the kind doctor, who trusted her fully. For the people who helped her grow, outweighed her self loathing. Her despair. Her insecurities.

Nosferatu ultimately is but a twisted love story, isn't it?

Tragic. Painful. And so very beautiful.