Even with heavy-handed themes and metaphorical richness, Nosferatu never looks down on its genre, an issue most prevalent in modern horror. It serves up every ounce of conviction it has towards the genre, and its supernatural elements, without being dismissive of it or feeling compelled to include 21st-century rationalism or sensibilities. In that, it echoes the earnestness of its original, FW Murnau’s 1922 silent era classic of the same name. Drenched in romanticism for the macabre, Nosferatu works best as a poignant story about the battle between love and darkness. Ironically, darkness wages war with its own twisted form of love, lust, and affection, which the film makes apparent is but a form of evil manipulation. The film leaves us with a haunting final frame, a gory work of art. It feels like a poignant painting of a battlefield, after a night of battle between light and darkness. It reads like an extension of the film’s own caption, “Succumb to darkness.” Evidently, the final few moments tell us how darkness succumbs to love instead.
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