Aus dem HÃ¤rzen
steigen Spukhafte TrÃ¤ume und nÃ¤hren dich von Deinem Blut.
The first two acts I enjoyed the freaky nature shots and some moments in the castle,
but it feels Murnau himself was waiting for the vampire to bring doom to our world and to bite the woman’s neck, in the last three acts.
The more characters get embraced by madness, the less dated the ‘silent movie over-‘ acting feels.
And once the long nailed monster enters Murnau’s own world, the poetry of death blossoms.
Images that have echo’s in Werner Herzog’s Aguirre, Bergman’s Seventh Seal, both Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands and Stainboy.
What surprised me the most is that, as compared to Sunrise -released only five years later, Murnau’s story-telling in this 1922 Nosferatu, eine Synfonie des Grauen feels pretty stone age. Possibly I should have taken the Synfonie-hint more seriously.