An ethereal experience. Herzog lives up to the original while putting his own distinct spin and voice into it. This is a melancholic piece. Schreck’s Dracula was a proud embodiment of the plague; Kinski is in his way another victim of it. His existence is suffering, every moment tinged with loneliness, and yet he endures. He longs for the release of death, of ceasing, but like the plague is compelled to spread what he is. Kinski was a terrible human being, but his performance here is haunting.

Of course, that haunting feeling is bolstered by everything else in the film. How he emerges from the shadows. How the moonlight cast upon him gives his skin an azure, otherworld gleam. The unsettling music that makes everything feel heightened and wrong. The gorgeous sets and environments. Herzog is aware of the original’s iconic work with shadows and pays homage to it while making it fresh and iconic in its own right by incorporating mirrors and vampires’ lack of reflection into it. And the last supper scene is a masterwork of surreality, a stolid little village thrown into chaos and abandoning reason. Rays scurrying on the streets, village folk dancing around the fire, and then having a pleasant dinner before being enswarmed by the rats and nothingness.

Nosferatu the Vampyre honors the original while creating a compelling piece of art that is stunning all in its own right. Eggers’ attempt to do the same will have a lot to live up to.