Werner Herzog's Phantom der Nacht (1979) is sometimes called a minor work, despite the film's towering central performance by Klaus Kinski. But in this book, we see Phantom der Nacht as one of the masterpieces of the New German Cinema, a film that exhibits all of Herzog's melancholy and pessimistic romanticism as well as his spirituality and technical flair. Adapted from Bram Stoker's Dracula, and mindful of an earlier German version of that same novel, Herzog's film, with its terrifying coda in which the reincarnated fiend rides out into the world, is perhaps the most compelling screen treatment of the vampire myth.
Beginning with Stoker's book and the nineteenth-century obsession with vampires, S. S. Prawer goes on to explore the evolution of Herzog's career. To complete a comprehensive account of Nosferatu, Prawer describes the film's production history as well as the cultural and aesthetic components that combine to such powerful the skill of the actors; the debts to romanticism and to Murnau; the use of music by Wagner, Gounod, and Florian Fricke; and the film's many extraordinary, haunting images.
Prawer does a nice job of comparing Herzog's film to Murnau's original and to Stoker's novel. The 1979 film is also placed in the context of Herzog's oeuvre (themes and practices) and of German films (and history) more broadly, including the New German Cinema movement and the after effects of the Nazi era. A few different interpretations for the unique aspects of Herzog's version of the Dracula legend are offered (for example, that all of the events and other people are projections of Jonathan's psyche) and the ironic (and different) ending is contemplated. The technical aspects of the film, particularly the cinematography by Schmidt-Reitwein, are also discussed, as are the cast members and why they were selected. In other words, a comprehensive and satisfying review.
A must-read for any fan of german cinema, herzog, nosferatu, and the vampire genre. it functions as a film analysts, a brilliant and poignant accessible one. it has some backstory and some behind the scenes information but not emotion about the making of the film, the on-set stories. regardless of that, it’s a rich book worth reading and revisiting.
How does that Mel Brooks song go? "Yes, we have Nosferatu!" -?
Anyways, this is a nice little examination of a movie based on a movie that you can pretty much buy anywhere for $1.99 in any ol' bargain bin - and to think that 80 years ago, this same movie was, like, illegal and finding its way into celluloidial burnpits because Mrs. Bram Stoker was all litigious an' shit.
The shadow of this vampire is twenty times more horrifying than most things on the silver screen these days. A screaming sawblade, or a creepy Asian ghostchildren with black inkpool eyes? Nothing on Graf Orlock's silhouette over a staircase.
I mean, let's consider this: the only men who've followed in Schreck's footsteps are Klaus Kinski and Willem Dafoe.
This book takes a cold hard look at the Kinski variation.
I have not even seen Hertoz's Nosferatu - yet this book was completely absorbing. The greatest thing about Hertoz is that he's him, so we don't have to be...