The Bloodsuckers Binge: a series of reviews on vampire movies in all incarnations as I look for, and find, any vampire movie I can get my grubby little hands on. The classics, the culty, the really good, the really old and inevitably: movies that suck!

This is German director Werner Herzog’s bid to remake the 1922 classic by Murnau. Rather than mindlessly copying that masterpiece, Herzog makes his own movie, while borrowing from the original. And I am sorry to say that, despite the talented cast (Klaus Kinski!) and the gorgeous images put before the viewer’s eyes, watching this is a good, but not entirely satisfying experience.

My main gripe with this film is that, even though it plays in the original German language, it has been dubbed. Now I understand that this is a necessity in the case of Isabelle Adjani, as her German will not have been without an accent and the same goes for some of the Dutch supporting cast. But dubbing Klaus Kinski (even by what is probably his own voice) is a cinematic crime! The dubbed voices are out of sync. Nut just literally, as in: there are mouths moving when there is no sound and vice versa, but also figuratively: in terms of acting. The dubbing makes the voices sound flat and dishonest, and because of that the actors and the acting come off as mechanical and untrue.

Another, smaller, gripe is that Herzog has changed the story somewhat from the original Bram Stoker book. But since this is a new rendition of the Murnau-film and does not pretend to be affiliated to the book, that peeve should probably be overlooked. However, as a bit of a vampire-purist, I find that any deviation from the original story should have purpose. If not, a departure from the familiar is merely distracting and diverts well-earned attention from the movie itself. Having said that, the ending of this film is completely different from both the original movie and the book, and it is in fact marvellous!

Third, even smaller, gripe is that Herzog is not too interested in continuity and authenticity. He takes what is very obviously a Dutch town and Dutch landscape, and expects the viewer to accept it as Germany. Also, there are TV-antennae, electric lights and no-parking signs in plain view. All stuff that was not actually available in the 17th century. So although Herzog gives us a beautiful atmosphere to draw us into the time period, at the same time he is really asking a lot in terms of the viewers’ suspension of disbelieve. The result comes of as sloppy and uninterested and this film, considering the directorial effort made in terms of imagery, deserves better.

And now to the good bits. For despite the negative sounding first part of this review, there is in fact much to see here that is worth your time and attention. For this is truly a very well directed piece.

Herzog starts this cinematic journey with a long, slow sequence of mummy-like creatures. Celebrating the dead and showing them as something beautiful, Herzog sets the tone for the movie, guiding the viewer in the emotional direction he wants them to take. And he lets it go on and take its course, without unnecessary cutting. This is clearly a movie that requires an actual attention span. Bliss!

Following the intro-sequence, Herzog also takes his time at the start of the movie to establish the relationships of the characters involved, it is only later in the movie that he picks up the pace a bit. Officially there are three main characters here: Bruno Ganz as Jonathan, an extremely young Isabelle Adjani as Lucy (which is how the Mina Harker character is called in this film) and the incomparable Klaus Kinski as Nosferatu. But really this is all Kinski’s movie. For Adjani has very little to do (even if she does it well) whereas Ganz is given only slightly more opportunity to show his ability in a somewhat bigger part. And Kinski dominates the screen. Even when he is not in the shot, in fact, which is testament to both his genius and the chemistry between him and Werner Herzog. Reportedly these two friends both loved and hated each other with a vengeance, and supposedly working with Kinski was hell even in the best of circumstances, but it does make for a remarkable and memorable cinematic experience. Like Max Schreck in the original, Kinski creates a character that is scary as well as tragic, conveying the underlying sadness and melancholy, without doing injustice to the fear-invoking qualities of the count.

Like Murnau, Herzog uses nature as a directorial source. He lets the images do the talking and does not rely on dialogue or text. As an added bonus Herzog uses sound (not music, mind you) and some carefully placed silences to create the right atmosphere. Herzog’s movie is lighter in both atmosphere and in colour than the original Murnau piece. He uses a very distinct colour palette for his three characters, thus differentiating them not only by their actions but by the atmosphere he creates around them. The count is surrounded by blues, Jonathan by greens, and everything around Lucy is bright and white. It tells us more about these characters than plot and text and script could ever bring across.

And the ending is a good example of how deviating from the original story is fine, as long as it has a purpose. Unlike the first Nosferatu movie and indeed unlike the Bram Stoker book, the ending of this film offers no hope. Where in the original film Nosferatu is defeated by innocence and the world is safe, here Lucy’s sacrifice is in vain. Nosferatu may be dead, but at the same time a new count has risen and the cycle recommences. Nobody here, neither viewer nor characters in the film can rest in piece. Which, after all is said and done, is in fact really most satisfactory, even if some of this movie is not.

However insufficiently executed this movie may be at times, it leaves no doubt that Herzog is a magician with image and picture. For all it’s flaws, this movie is well worth a look, just to experience Herzog’s visions.