Nosferatu: A Study of German Expressionism
Nosferatu (1922) has made its mark on history, not only as the first vampire film, but also as a telling artifact from a turbulent socio-political time, a prominent example of the German Expressionism artistic movement, and an achievement in early filmmaking, especially for special effects.
In order to understand the near decade of German Expression output, context must be laid for the climate and mindset of the artists that worked in German cinema throughout the 1920s. After Germany lost World War I, the Allies forced the country to agree to pay a crippling amount of reparations as punishment for their part in the war. The country retreated to isolation and the government banned the import of foreign films; just as the Hollywood system was beginning to form, the German audiences had no films to program their cinemas. The country’s debt led to a devastating bout of inflation and as German citizens saw their savings quickly losing value, they were more willing to spend their money immediately to maximize its value. These two factors led to a rising demand for cinema and the government, unstable as it was, began to support the fledgling film industry. [1]
Several film styles emerged during this time period, but the German Expressionism legacy has remained the most impactful in film history. Begun as a reaction to realism, the German Expressionism style emerged in other art forms first, most notably painting and theater, before bursting onto the film scene with The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920). A blend of theatrical settings and costumes, the use of extreme lighting, and the precise staging of actors to create a dramatic composition are the foundation for the formal elements of German Expressionism. The goal of filmmakers were to use “extreme distortion to express an inner emotional reality rather than surface appearances.” [2] This particularly informed the performance of actors, which took the silent film’s theatrics to new heights of pantomime and over-dramatics, especially when set against the horror and fantasy narratives. Placing these actors as another formal element on stylized sets allowed the filmmakers to compose shots that featured distortion as the main theme. The movement began to wane as its prominent artistic contributors fled the rise of Natzism in Germany for the bright lights of Hollywood, eventually supporting the development of the studio system and greatly influencing genres such as horror and film noir.
Nosferatu is a prime example of German Expressionism, produced in the early years of the movement. The narrative, with seeds taken from Bram Stoker’s Dracula novel, albeit changed names and settings (the film company was ultimately sued for the direct lift of the novel), tells the tale of a real estate man (Gustav von Wangenheim) selling property to the mysterious Count Orlok (Max Schreck), who lives in a remote mysterious castle in the wilderness and has a curious predilection for blood. As Orlok travels to the city to claim his new property, death and plague follow him. The real estate’s wife (Greta Schroder) ultimately sacrifices herself to ensure the Count’s destruction, distracting him long enough for daylight to meet his pale flesh.
The director, F.W. Murnau does not fully dip into the extreme settings and costumes of the German Expressionism style for the majority of Nosferatu, in order to make the presence of Count Orlok’s residence, and in particular his frightful appearance, all the more prominent. Departing from the typical urban settings to explore the wilderness, one specific sequence stands out for its visual distortion; on the spooky carriage ride to Orlok’s castle, the film negative is flipped to expose a bleached white forest. The Count himself is the most horrifying vision of the film - dressed in a slim black coat over his emaciated frame, with pale white hands, gnarled fingers, and bent nails. His face in particular is an achievement in makeup, conveying the haunting visage of a demon. Schreck’s elongated features are accentuated by the chilling eyes and bushy eyebrows, while the pointed ears and pair of fangs add to the monstrous nature. Schreck imbues the vampire with a hunched slow menacing walk, identifying his target first with the eyes and then advancing with a torpid creep. The most iconic shot is when the real estate agent is sleeping as a guest in Orlok’s home and the distorted shadow of the Count begins to slowly ascend the stairs with arms raised, eager to feast on his victim. As the first vampire film, Nosferatu captures the twisted vision of a man that appears human, but whose humanity is stripped by the unnatural feasting of blood.
With such a frightening vision of Nosferatu, the shots of real estate agent Hutter is meant to mirror the audience’s reaction, although von Wangenheim gives an uneven performance. He clearly channels the heightened dramatic style of German Expressionism acting, but also has some more measured reactions, particularly when face to face with the villain. When Hutter is exploring the castle by day and stumbles upon Nosferatu’s coffin, his reaction of horror is impeccable - dread and awe and a sense of urgency to escape. In contrast, when attempting to flee the castle, he leaps from a window and falls to the ground. The over-dramatics of German Expressionism come into play in his performance, as Hutton hysterically raises his arm in anguish and falls to the ground, apparently blacked out. While the theatrical acting of Hutter was exaggerated, the subtlety of Schreck’s Nosferatu was by contrast an incredibly compelling performance, especially since he was breaking new ground as the first vampire character portrayed on film.
As a director, Murnau was well known for his focus on shot composition, and audiences were able to observe this in detail, as the editing for German Expressionism films were cut at a slower pace. The shadow work has already been mentioned, but the interplay between light and dark, showing an even more exaggerated view of the vampire lording over the sleeping Hutter, produced a haunting visual effect. Additionally, the Count is placed as a distorted vision amongst the visual symmetry of his architectural surroundings. He is often framed within the various arches around his castle, but the most notable shot is at the end of the film, where Orlok is observing the wife from his new property; the window frame is divided into sub-sections that together form a faux-arch, with the Count’s ghastly visage disrupting the visual balance. This composition conveys the Count’s disturbance of natural symmetry, just as his presence causes turmoil in the ship, town, and in Hutter and his wife’s life.
For such an early film, Nosferatu employs now standard film techniques with precision and has an incredibly sophisticated handling of special effects. A mirror shot is used to reveal the bite marks on Hutter’s neck. Cross cutting is employed to raise the tension, as the edits alternate between shots of Nosferatu threatening a sleeping Hutter in the castle and his wife in the town having a disturbing episode. A simple pov shot, however, is the most striking sequence in the film, heightening the stakes of Orlok’s presence in the town. Hutter’s wife is gazing out the window in sorrow, and the film cuts to her pov shot that overlooks the town with a trail of men carrying coffins down the street. Narratively, this demonstrates (rather than telling the audience) the devastation of the Count’s eating habits and plants the motivation for the wife’s character to act in the end.
The film does have some miscues, either attributed to the early days of filmmaking where the formal rules hadn’t been standardized or simply because technical limitations of the time. The editing tends to be jumpy; for example, a medium shot that frames two people talking cuts slightly closer, but not enough to make a distinguishable difference and be an intentional formal contribution to the scene. The title cards tend to linger past necessary time limits in order to read the text and doesn’t always match the expressions of the actors in the scene. Finally, while there were some very limited pans, the camera mostly stays stationary, which restricts the range of the actors and keeps the action flat. In the larger scheme, these are small nitpicks amongst a greater cinematic achievement for early 1920s filmmaking.
The film’s handling of special effects contributed to shaping the film’s eerie tone. Doors open and close by themselves through Nosferatu’s power. The film is sped up to demonstrate the supernatural capabilities of the vampire and those in his employ. For example, from a tower above the courtyard, Hutter observes the Count building a coffin on a raft to begin his journey down the river to the city. The film is sped up to show him magically building the compartment and when finished, he settles himself into the tight space; through three shots of stop motion, the lid lifts itself onto the top, covering the vampire in the safety of darkness. Finally, Murnau superimposes the image of Nosferatu on the ship, giving his visage a ghostly glow to scare both shipmates and audiences alike.
Overall, Nosferatu set a solid foundation for the future of vampire films. A tight narrative elevated by Schreck’s chilling performance, precise makeup and costume details, and experimental special effects all combined to define the formal film vocabulary for vampire horror films, rooted in the German Expressionism style, that still has lasting impact today.
[1] “Where the Horror Came From” by David Hudson. www.greencine.com
[2] “Film History: An Introduction” by Kristin Thompson and David Bordwell. Second Edition. page 104.
