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Without hesitation Jonathan sets out for the Carpathian Mountains, ignoring the omen of Lucy's nightmare. It can hardly have much relevance to a business transaction, or at least that's what Jonathan tells himself. After an arduous month on the road he finally nears his destination, breaking the journey only to refresh himself at a roadside inn. However as soon as he mentions Count Dracula the establishment falls silent, stilled by the mere mention of this name. With quick but strained words the innkeeper sketches a picture of the dangers which linger near the remote castle. When his warning fails to hold, he turns Jonathan over to the local gypsies (who have a specialised knowledge of the forest) and implores him to at least stay overnight.
By the flickering firelight Jonathan listens to the spooky tales of his hosts, then discounts them as mere ghost stories. Nothing is going to delay his appointment with the Count, even if he has to walk all the way to the castle gates. Fortunately a carriage materialises out of the next evening's darkness, offering an ethereal ride toward his destiny. In silence he is deposited at the door, which immediately swings wide open without human intervention. Within, in a weak pool of candlelight, stands Dracula; wan and spectral in appearance, he makes every effort to appear the genial host. Tonight Jonathan dines alone.
In Nosferatu the Vampyre Werner Herzog makes a valiant effort to achieve the impossible; remaining true to the definitive film version of this story while taking the Count into uncharted territory. An ambitious aim by anyone's standard, Herzog fails to satisfactorily fulfil either possibility, instead falling somewhere between the two. As a straightforward recounting of the tale, the bare bones are set out by Herzog but with precious little embellishment. Thus a working knowledge of the story is an advantage, if only to comprehend exactly what the disjointed scenes are referring to. As an exploration of what it is like to be the Count, cursed with eternal life and the need for blood, the film is equally impressive. It tentatively suggests the pestilent weight of this burden but neglects to fully express the dichotomy of Dracula's existence. A wasted opportunity then, with brief flashes of brilliance.
As a consequence of pursuing this goal Nosferatu the Vampyre is most emphatically not an actor's movie, full of detailed characterisation and meaty dialogue. Instead the cast get little opportunity to more than appear the part, while being forced to go without either lines or activity. Kinski is by far the most memorable figure, despite (or perhaps through) being almost unrecognisable. Made up with a scraped bald skull, red-rimmed eyes and long, questing fingers his mere presence brings a chill to the room. In contrast Adjani wanders through her scenes vacantly, barely registering the presence of her colleagues. Certainly she looks as radiant as ever but that fails to make up for this icy distance. Ganz is acceptable as the innocent victim of Dracula, turned into an undead servant, yet he displays little originality. All in all the cast are under-used, removing whatever solid ground might have otherwise been available to Nosferatu the Vampyre.
A consideration that might aid potential viewers is this; make sure that you're familiar with the story before embarking on this journey. Herzog effectively assumes this knowledge, since he rushes towards Dracula's castle with no attempt to sketch out the tale's background. Instead he photographs Nosferatu the Vampyre with beautiful, if unrelated, shots and dark symbolism. Thus what you get is not a horror movie, since it lacks even the barest hint of unease, but a deconstruction of Dracula. He is the victim here, compelled to lunge for Jonathan's cut finger and imprisoned by eternal life. Ultimately you know that you should praise Herzog for his intellectual rigour and daring approach to a familiar story. Unfortunately Nosferatu the Vampyre just isn't entertaining; it's dry, tedious, numbingly slow and uninvolving.
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