Nosferatu

Visually striking as it is, with compositions that rival great Flemish paintings, the obsessive director's somber retelling of F.W. Murnau's expressionistic vampire movie is commendably faithful to the 1922 silent film and more accessible than "The Lighthouse" and "The Witch," yet eerily drained of life.

This Count Orlock is a gruesome monstrosity, gnawed on and gnarled, as repulsive as movie monsters get. But he is now also that sexual creature, a hypermasculine 1970s porn star, as virile as he is virulent.

It's a Gothic horror nightmare heaving with sumptuous visual detail, groaning under the weight of portentous dread, writhing with both convulsive violence and sweaty eroticism and leavened by sly hints of fiendish camp.

Robert Eggers's Nosferatu is among the most impeccably mounted horror films ever made. It's a new classic.

Reste alors un grand film sur Nosferatu (pour d'autres, Dracula). Ellen, pour laver sa honte, se donnera-t-elle à Orlok ? Dans la séquence la plus puissante du film, la plus érotique également, Eggers donne son consentement et filme, grâce à l'objectif audacieusement voyeur de Jarin Blaschke, l'une des scènes érotiques du cinéma occidental des plus troublantes et sexy.

Robert Eggers breathes new life into the classic vampire tale.