Nosferatu Technical Analysis Mise-en-scene: The influence of expressionism on the film makes this silent film one of the

creepiest of the genre. The opening scenes of Bremen provide a sense of normality. The exteriors were shot on location rather than in a studio so the sense of reality is present. Orlok's castle and other venues are dark and off kilter to provide a visual sense of the unnatural and inhuman. The vampire "familiars" - the rats are everywhere - in Bremen after Orlok's arrival, in the castle and on the ship that carries Orlok to Bremen. The film is set about 80 years in the past (1842) so that it is a nineteenth century period piece. Camera work: Murnau doesn't use a lot of camera movement. That used is disturbing as these examples show: 1) 2) 3) 4) 5) . The low angle shot of Orlok before the mast of the ship. Orlok's emergence from the hold of the ship. The close ups of the count in his coffin The long shot of Orlok framed in Hutters doorway The close ups of the rats (not pictured)

Editing and special effects: Murnau uses "thematic montage" or cross-cutting to convey menace as Orlok advances on Hutter in his castle to Ellen waking in Bremen suggesting a connection between Ellen & Hutter as Ellen continuously worries about and protects him from afar. The use of stop-motion (pixillation) for the carriage ride to give the impression of demonic speed. Using the positive of a negative as Hutter enters Orlok's world gives the impression of an eerie nightmarish environment. Superimposition as Orlok fades and disappears as dawn breaks in Ellen's bedroom. Lighting: Low key lighting is used except when Hutter rides through the German countryside on his way to Orlok's castle which conveys innocence and beauty which will disappear in Orlok's world. Shadow: the shadow of Count Orlok seen climbing the stairs to prey on Hutter is a brilliant use of light projection. (pictured above) Overview of the films narrative: Nosferatu's Jonathan Harker character is Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim), a real estate employee who receives an unusual assigment from his boss, the troll-like Knock (Alexander Granach). Knock tells Hutter that a new client, Count Orlok, wishes to leave his remote castle home and take up new lodgings nearby in fact, Knock suggests, the deserted house across the street from Hutter's would be ideal. Although we never see Knock meet Orlok in the flesh, he becomes Murnau's institutionalized, spider-eating Renfield-equivalent. Orlok's letter of intent to Knock, written in runish occult characters, and Knock's referring to Orlok as "Master" before the vampire has arrived, make it apparent that Knock is already under Orlok's influence before the events of the film even begin. Hutter bids farewell to his wife, Ellen (Greta Schroeder), who, like Mina in Stoker's story, becomes the object of mesmeric attraction for the blood-drinking Count ("Your wife has a beautiful neck," Orlok tells Hutter, staring at a photograph). The eventual outcome of Ellen is one of the points where this movie diverts from its source. On the road to Orlok's castle, Hutter stays the night at a rural inn. When Hutter mentions Orlok's name to the inn's patrons, the resulting reaction of shock and fear extends even to the animals outside. And that's not a Bible that Hutter finds at his bedside, but a book explaining the facts about Nosferatu, the undead. While the scene educates Hutter and us with information that will be useful later, Hutter is too sophisticated to believe such twaddle and tosses the book aside, laughing. (Aside: one of my few points of bother is the degree to which Hutter laughs a lot. As Hutter, von

Wangenheim grins and gambols through the early scenes like a man on too much mood-enhancing medication. It isn't until after meeting Orlok that his disposition darkens with good reason and I'm certain the contrast is a Murnau strategy. It's a small complaint, sure, but every time I've watched this film in any format it's been a distraction, forcing me to see an actor rather than a character. So I mention it here because it could be really off-putting to anyone less tolerant of silent screen performance styles.) A carriage takes Hutter only part of the way to Orlok's castle. The driver refuses to go any farther than a small river (vampires cannot cross running water on their own). Soon, though, a coach from Orlok's castle arrives to bring Hutter to his client. Taking us from the world of the rational to that of the supernatural, this coach is no ordinary horse and driver. Riding with supernatural (i.e., stop-motion) speed, the phantom carriage carries an unnerved Hutter through dark forests freakishly rendered using a clever negative reversal photography trick (the commentary track lets you in on a nifty secret here). He is deposited at the castle and is met by the Count. The story progresses with some scenes familiar to Dracula fans (such as Hutter cutting his finger at dinner, his host a tad too interested in the resulting bloodflow), and others that abbreviate Stoker's novel for the sake of simplicity and, one presumes, an attempt at copyright avoidance. The vampire and Ellen connect psychically, which both saves Hutter's life during a terrifically creepy scene and puts her in mortal danger as the Count sets sail to become Mr. and Mrs. Hutter's new neighbor. The scenes on the "death ship" Demeter, also familiar to Stoker purists, are among the most gripping in the movie. The ship gliding ghost-like into port even after its captain and crew are dead reminds us again that the Demeter's "new captain" is something beyond nature and human ken. In his new city teeming with potential victims, compelled by a force that may or may not be sexual toward Ellen, Orlok spreads plague and death. Inevitably, the hunter becomes the hunted, but he is only dispatched (come on, you knew he would be) by Ellen's courageous sacrifice, a victory that hangs on the fact that Hutter's wife is a "sinless maiden" (no wonder the fellow was so high-strung earlier). Along the way, there's plenty worth looking for: Orlok stalking Hutter in his bedroom, coming through the doorway like a nightmare seducer; the Count's skeleton clock (where did he get that?); Orlok rising from his coffin on the Demeter, a visual every bit as iconic as Boris Karloff's first appearance as Frankenstein's Monster or Linda Blair's demon-driven head-twisting; the low-angle shot looking up at Orlok skulking on the deck above; the parade of coffins through the city streets; Orlok staring hungrily from his window into Hutter and Ellen's bedroom; the vampire's shadow stalking Ellen like a disembodied primal force.... Notes on German Expressionism (from Wikipedia) German Expressionism is the term used to refer to a number of related creative movements which emerged in Germany before the first world war which reached a peak in Berlin, during the 1920s. Developments in Germany were part of a larger Expressionist movement in north and central European art and culture. German Expressionist film making (also referred to as Expressionism in filmmaking) is probably the best known part of the movement. During the period of recovery following World War I, the German film industry was booming, but because of the hard economic times filmmakers found it difficult to create movies that could compare with the lush, extravagant features coming from Hollywood. The filmmakers of the German UFA studio developed their own style by using symbolism and mise en scne to add mood and deeper meaning to a movie. The first Expressionist films, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), The Golem (1920), Destiny (1921), Nosferatu (1922), Phantom (1922), Schatten (1923), and The Last Laugh (1924), were highly symbolic and deliberately surrealistic portrayals of filmed stories. The plots and stories of the Expressionist films often dealt with madness, insanity, betrayal, and other "intellectual" topics (as opposed to standard action-adventure and romantic films). Two genres that were especially influenced by Expressionism were the horror film and film noir. Carl Laemmle and Universal Studios had made a name for themselves by producing such famous horror films of the silent era as Lon Chaney's The Phantom of the Opera. German emigrees such as Karl Freund (the cinematographer for Dracula in 1931) set the style and mood of the Universal monster movies of the 1930s with their dark and artistically designed sets, providing a model for later generations of horror films. Directors such as Fritz Lang, Billy Wilder, Otto Preminger, Alfred Hitchcock, and Michael Curtiz introduced the Expressionist style to crime dramas of the 1940s, influencing a further line of film makers and taking Expressionism through the years. Werner Herzog's 1979 film Nosferatu the Vampyre was a tribute F.W. Murnau's Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens. The film uses Expressionist techniques of highly symbolic acting and symbolic events to tell its story.[1] Notably it links the vampire myth with the black death through the use of black rats. Ambitious adaptations of the style are depicted throughout the contemporary filmography of director Tim Burton. His 1992 film Batman Returns is often cited as a modern attempt to capture the essence of German Expressionism. The angular building designs and severe-looking city squares of Gotham City evoke the loom and menace present in Langs Metropolis. One may even notice the link between the evil character of Max Shreck portrayed by Christopher Walken, and Nosferatu's star, Max Schreck.