#horror analysis

(Author's Note: This is my second time writing this after about 3,000 words-worth of what I thought was some of the best work I had ever done went up in flames thanks to Tumblr's autosave system. I had to write absolutely everything from scratch even though the blogpost was already in the queue. I won't bore you with the details but if you're reading this, thinking "Hm, this kinda sucks". Blame Tumblr.)

Initial Perception of "The Backrooms" and Other Liminal Concepts

Let's just get how I feel about the internet phenomenon out of the way first and foremost.

I do really enjoy the notion of being trapped between worlds with the feeling that you cannot get out no matter how hard you try. What is captured in Satoshi Kon's Millennium Actress, Perfect Blue and Paprika where lines are blurred between the real reality and how reality is twisted what some people believe reality is. The interest in what are called "Liminal Spaces" is typically guided by an idea of a memory that may not be reliable;- a vision of the past that feels real even if it's not. The uncanny ambiguity is what excites me personally.

What must be said is that we are currently living through an interesting artistic phase where, as a result of uniformity forced upon us by corporations in favour of what is algorithmically satisfactory, younger people are rejecting the boring UI on all modern mobile phones and the Microsoft-derived acid white web designs. They're right too because they have been bought up into a generation without any style in their tech which is all they know. I can't blame them for being fascinated by aesthetics presented in Analogue Horrors and Frutiger Aero.

I think that's worth applauding because I don't think my generation knew what it had growing up and we've been steadily assimilated into all phones, websites, application and architecture all looking the same. It's not just an online phenomenon either. The movie theatre for this screening was PACKED with zoomers and teenagers and me and my friend - at the ripe old age of 27 - were the oldest people in there.

"Old Windows Media Player" - taken from r/Nostalgia

Whilst I enjoy the uncanny visions of memories you aren't sure you had in the first place, I find myself put off by all surrounding nonsense packaged in with the "Backrooms" creepypasta. I don't really need to know all the levels, all the entities or any of the business to do with the hazmat suit guys because I feel like it's got nothing to do with why the Backrooms as an idea is interesting in the first place. The regurgitated maze of forgotten props of yesteryear with no escape is why I like it. If the long thin robot creature has a name, I don't know it.

For me, the want to add to the sprawling empty space with a monster that chases you gilds the lily. The horror of nothingness as you wonder through a photograph in your mind is unsettling in a unique way that feels new and fresh.

This is what was worrying me about the movie. The needle could either lean into all the insane and bewildering lore that all the kids are experts in or flick the other way into extreme pretension as it had every chance in the world of trying to become an arthouse movie. The middle is the sweet spot and did it achieve it?

Let's find out.

Making a Universe a Doll's House: The Skeleton of "Backrooms"

A depiction of a Liminal Space, posted to r/LiminalSpaces by Independent_Army_886

I was scared for the movie at the prologue because I worried that it was going to be all shot through an old camera in a mock found footage style with all the lore from the YouTube series which I feel would become exhausting. To draw a line under it now, all the things that I was worried about, it didn't really do.

Whilst I always have a gripe about faulty representations of the past - a farce that is extremely rife in the age of Stranger Things - a pass for Backrooms has to be given. The production has license to make mistakes or be inaccurate on the grounds that the Backrooms centres around uncanny memories. They have creative freedom here to paint their own pictures.

It must be mentioned that it's an absolutely gorgeously shot movie with a great deal of wideness incorporated to accentuate how small humans are in a world around them that is swallowing them whole. The effectiveness of doing a lot of wide shots like this creates this universe where it's hard to imagine what's outside the window of the screen. Big or small, you're only really shown about four rooms in the real world and the spaces between that could be infinite or nothing;- just like a liminal space.

The original image of the "Backrooms" from a 4chan greentext story.

Despite reminding me of Koyaanisqatsi on multiple occasions, the movie never felt pretentious or that it was trying too hard to be clever. Unbelievably, they write a commercial into the narrative for a self-help book about "looking through a new window" and it was not annoying. It sounds like the most intellectually masturbatory idea ever to put something like that into a movie about false perceptions but it worked so well because of the storyboard.

I find "dream-like" or "dreamy" or any other adjacent term to be nebulous and meaningless but how each scene flows into the next with interspersed narrative dialogue connecting one room to another and shots of the world is definitely "dream-like".

I'm too eager to discuss the plot now so let's just get on with it.

The X Axis - This sections discusses the plot so it will contain spoilers.

Chiwetel Ejiofor is Clark.

Clark owns a failing furniture store despite being a qualified architect and is undergoing therapy with Dr Mary Kline (Renate Reinsve) because his life and his marriage is falling apart due to his alcoholism and anger management issues. The classic fiasco of men pretending they have too much work to do at the office but just don't want to come home and face the music. It's even more depressing when detailed in a roleplaying scenario with the therapist that he stopped off "for a few beers" when he is shown to be actually laid up in a bed for sale at the store.

He is also suffering with breaker issues which was actually fairly common at the time due to electricity improperly wired due to rushed construction and less knowledge about how to actually wire a property. Compared to nowadays where people think it's like, a ghost or something when their lights flicker on and off. I like that this is just irritating to him when he's trying to watch television.

Clark is made aware of some extra, mysterious switches that don't appear to do anything but upon trying them one night, he notices a small slit of light in the corner of the basement area that he falls through and here we go, baby. We're in Backrooms town now.

I have to say it doesn't look half-bad. It was a worrying thought that, to see actual human beings wondering around in an environment that is at least partially made in Blender, would be a hard watch. This particular screenshot doesn't really do it justice but it was the absolute best that I could find, I assure you.

Clark is actively inspired by this world and not really all that terrified because he is interested in the architecture. For the first time in a long time, he is inspired by something and has a purpose. When he explores and escapes and comes back to tell the doctor about it, his mood is so different that it causes actual concern. A real, believable and logical reaction. Thank you, movie.

Clark enlists his only two employees (Finn Bennett and Lukita Maxwell) to investigate the realm and you are shown the rope in his bag so... you know it's coming. If you haven't seen Twilight Zone or the Treehouse of Horror spoof segment "Homer3", you at least have seen a single thing made after that which also references it.

I can't really do it justice. The rope moment can only be enjoyed with your eyes and ears but it is done so fantastically well and, for much treaded ground, it feels like a contemporary set-piece.

There are beings in here but at this point, you don't actually get a look at them. You are left with the trail of blood of someone dragged too far away and the team are split up. In a very small matter of time, all three of them are presumed dead from what was captured on the video camera. Found footage is a genre that's died a death but when used sparingly like it was here, it was very much welcome. Mechanically, it is a very good way to create panic because of how erratic the visuals and audio can be through old systems.

Mary arrives at Clark's old store after hearing a voicemail from him saying that he no longer needs her services. At the time, it's unclear when or how he sent this but I'm pretty sure the implication is that he has been taking trips backwards and forwards and is possibly leading something of a double life. But the movie wants you to think that this wasn't really him who sent the voicemail and that Dr. Mary Kline is walking into a trap.

Now, I thought for a moment that everybody's "Backrooms" would be different because there was no furniture when Mary stepped through the gap in reality but I think I am just wrong about that. I'm thinking that it's like Persona or something when it isn't.

She finds some scribblings on the wall that appear to resonate with her and I should say at this point that her story has taken something of a backseat in the underline. You see a lot of dreams and visions of memories of when she was a child, dealing with a paranoid and abusive mother. You get to see another memory in just a second but Clark finds her almost instantly even though we saw him pass through multiple hallways and corridors.

I like this because it shows that if Clark is inspired by something, he can actually apply himself. It makes sense that a qualified architect would look to become master of this realm. Clark lulls her into a false sense of security and chokes her out, lending credence to the dangling carrot that Clark could've been replaced or modified in some way. There's something so unequivocally malicious about attacking the one human in life who is dedicated to helping you.

Mary Kline as a child sees herself as an old woman in a wheelchair who is non-communicative as she is wheeled away. Now, I can't lie. I did wince and pinch my eyes when I heard the music from Everywhere at the End of Time by The Caretaker playing because I was hoping for less references like this in the movie. It comes across as pandering but honestly, upon reflection, this was fine. It was pretty much the only reference like this at the online culture and it suited the moment, ultimately.

But what I'm most interested in is the existential fear of hereditary mental illness that isn't repackaged biologically but passed down traumatically. I like the suggestion here - that is qualified in the next scene - that there's an unavoidable pain in life where trying to repair people can just end in a losing effort. There's only so much you can do and it hurts when it's impossible.

Mary Kline wakes up in an American dining room set that is presumably analogous to Clark's home. I was in two minds about this scene so let me explain.

At first glance, I thought the decision to turn Clark into a bad guy in this moment was weak and lazy. His villainy comes across as cartoonish and Arkham-like as he shoves knives through the dolls and mannequins because they can't feel pain which, Clark sees an improvement. However, I empathize with the need for direction here. If Clark and Mary were to team up and run away from a greater evil or something along those lines, it would be even more lazy and a much worse movie.

Clark forces Mary into a roleplay exercise when he scalps a model of what you have to assume is his wife - but that doesn't necessarily have to be the case - and puts the wig on Mary so she better fits the role. Mary rejects going along with this and tells Clark that his problem is himself and he has an inability to come to terms with that. She says if he doesn't want to change then he can stay exactly where he is.

There's a dark truth in this scene. Most people agree that therapy is a good thing but it's not a one size fits all. People with narcissism - like Clark - are difficult to help because society doesn't really treat them as people with disorders or problems. The reason Clark loves this place so much is because it's still and unhuman and nobody can blame him for anything or talk back to him. When he gets told that he doesn't have to change, it's the best day of his life because he doesn't have to have guilt to run away from.

I can see people perceiving this as being 'anti-therapy' but honestly, I think it proves the opposite. Dr. Mary Kline gives him permission to fully detach from reality and he if that's what he really wants then he has to be replaced by Captain Clark from the other side. In a few moments, he pays for this desire with his life in exchange for a unhuman version of himself that the rest of the world sees.

I had something way better written here in the original draft so just imagine I said something more intelligent.

The chase between Captain Clark's live mannequin and Mary is superbly tense. Reminiscent of Kane Parsons' The Oldest View (A project that I've always said is his best work), claustrophobia clashing with agoraphobia makes the chase scenes way better than just having a fast and invincible being always behind you. The biggest enemy in these moments is the natural fear embedded in fallible humans and that is bought to the fore wonderfully with tight hallways and big falls. I enjoyed this very much.

She winds up in the facsimile of Clark's furniture store and is forced to face the creature in it's own domain. I think it's interesting that Clark's replacement is still intent on killing her despite being told that she's no longer a threat. It tells us that Clark's "ideal" version of himself would hurt people even if there was no consequence or benefit of any description.

Eventually, when cornered, Mary beats Captain Clark to death with a concrete mould of her hand that she always keeps with her. A fake representation of her hand from her past that may or may not even be hers. It could've been anyone's hand she found on that construction site.

As she overcomes the Captain, Mary has no other choice but this tiny gap between walls. Mary is eventually accosted by the hazmat suitguys from YouTube Shorts and if my heart wasn't already in my mouth, it definitely was now because I felt like I was about to be fed baby food.

They bring her to an interview room and it's unclear as to whether or not this is in the real world and the doctor interviewing her will not give her a straight answer. This is apparently huge fanservice for the lore of The Backrooms but I don't know anything about that so to me, this is just an ending. The only negative feedback I know about this is that the two teenagers sat next to me were murmuring something about "the ending with ASYNC felt rushed".

Either way, I enjoyed this a lot because it felt like cosmic horror. The world is all-consuming, inescapable and nobody knows how it works, including the top people who are tasked with finding out. After not being told as to whether or not she'll be allowed to leave, the voice of the doctor fades out into complete silence as Mary is faced with a confinement that haunted her childhood. You are shown shots of crude recreations of images you have already seen in the real world before settling on a skeletal outline of the scene before in the same room with no details. It closes with showing that the Mary in this room is a fake one.

This might make a lot of young people mad but I utterly despised what I like to call the "Ending Explained" culture that is so prevalent online these days. I don't like how interpretation of art has been twisted into one person's declaration of opinion, packaged as fact, so people can have a definite answer. Instead of accepting when something is not clear by design. You completely destroy the point of art when you desire one true answer. Whilst English Literature is supposed to teach you how to interpret art with your active imagination, somewhere along the line, it has become a picking-and-choosing exercise.

To turn a negative into a positive, at least in this instance, that the ending of Backrooms is actually thought-provoking. I like that your perception is tested to see what and who you truly recognize.

The Y Axis

An image of a hospital hallway, posted to r/LiminalSpaces by GlitteringLeading336

Whilst it's easy for me to look down upon fans of "Theory" YouTube channels, it's impossible for me to decry this new art movement that we are living through that's been started by the generation after mine. We are living through an age where we have become jaded by the lack of artistry in our day-to-day lives and the collective human brain has become the perfect nest for generative AI to lay it's eggs. No-one pays attentions to details anymore and so, a new predator has entered our ecosystem to feed on your parents' wilting minds.

A few years ago, the family dog died and, outside of my sister and I, nobody took any pictures of her. I often think about if literally nobody thought to save any snaps. We would have to rely on our own memories; a spine-chilling prospect. As we get older, remembering becomes harder and how long would it be before there was no way to picture her.

If you take away nothing else, remember to take pictures of your loved ones, your friends and family, your dogs and cats, even old buildings in your area. One day that building is going to get knocked down or collapse of it's own accord. It was probably built by a poorly paid builder and designed by an architect who was really proud of what they had accomplished. One day, you'll return to your hometown and say to someone "Do you remember what was there before?" and they'll say no because they were born 20 years after you were.

Failing that, take a picture of natural beauty if you ever see it before they turn a bed of roses into a McDonald's Drive-Thru. Not many people think about when the world around them is going to disappear and change until it does and then they can't imagine a world before it.

The Z Axis

Rockingham Road Odeon Cinema, 1965 (Before it was changed into a furniture shop, funnily enough)

Companies behind generative AI is counting on us not paying attention to the little things and to no longer value the humanity of expression and emotion and you cannot let them win. This movie could not have arrived on our screens at a better time. It's the perfect commentary. A horror that's built on a fear we never knew we had: a fear of a dwindling past. We're always hanging on and it's a constant battle to live in a dull, black-and-white reality to fight and change into something way more inspiring and fruitful for our hearts and minds.

To draw a less flowery conclusion, I was pleasantly surprised by this film.

Yes, I am forced to agree with the multitude of mainstream outlets who have praised this movie as an unexpected treat and I have no choice but to hand it to Kane Parsons, Will Soodik and the rest of the production staff. They exceeded expectations against impossible odds with a target audience that is way more discerning than people (including me) give them credit for. Backrooms was excellently shot, performed and illustrated with simple, but effective direction. In simple words, that's all you want and need from a movie of this calibre.

After the movies I've seen recently, I have been craving a decent art-style with no jumpscares or any other stupid horror tropes. I think it is going to be a real privilege for us to see the evolution of Kane Parsons in real time. I have faith in this new, uncanny brand of horror from the new generation and long may it continue.

8.2/10

At first glance, the stories of Dracula and Nosferatu are almost identical. The beginning sections follow the same essential plot beats - a young, newlywed solicitor travels to a creepy castle in Eastern Europe to assist a reclusive Count in his immigration to the West. This Count is, in fact, a vampire (otherwise known as a nosferatu), and terrorizes the young man for weeks, before departing and leaving him imprisoned; the solicitor escapes, is rescued from the wilderness by a nunnery, and returns home - where the Count has already begun his murderous process of settling in.

Here, in my opinion, is where the similarities end.

The key to understanding Nosferatu is remembering that Orlok is not Dracula; Thomas is not Jonathan; Ellen is not Mina, and so forth; and despite the mutual inspirations that affect each film adaptation of either story, the characters never react to the plot as a viewer would expect, if their precursory experience has been limited to only one or the other version.

Naturally, there are reasons for the continued addition of Nosferatu elements to Dracula adaptations. The most prominent of them is that, quite simply, audiences enjoy a fated, dangerous, inadvisable monster romance. By and large, we are titillated by the taboo; and - without adapting Le Fanu's Carmilla (1872), or adding a vampiric element to an adaptation of Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera (1910), or expanding on the queer elements of Jonathan Harker's sojourn in Transylvania - the easiest piece of classic media to sample for this sort of theme is Nosferatu (1922).

The 1922 film was, in a sense, an adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula (at least, enough to get the creators sued by his estate). In its efforts to circumvent copyright laws, it plays fast and loose with Stoker's lore and characters, renaming the Harkers, the Count, and everyone else - and, crucially, adding an element of erotic fixation that the vampire develops upon seeing a portrait of his solicitor's young wife. While still overseas, he builds a psychic connection with the melancholy and sensitive Ellen; it is both horrifying and sensual, and ultimately what she uses to destroy him - sacrificing her own blood and life to keep him out of his coffin until cock-crow. Ellen dies, but the sunlight annihilates Count Orlok, and the ending is a bittersweet new dawn.

This fixated, possessive, murderous eroticism (first displayed in its currently recognizable form by Carmilla) has become a cornerstone of the vampire genre. Elements of it are recognizable even in relatively modern media like Interview with the Vampire, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Twilight, as well as numerous Dracula adaptations (of which the 1992 Coppola film might be the most well-known); it is even present in other, indirect offshoots like NBC's Hannibal TV series. It is, therefore, essential to note that these overtones did not exist in the same way in Dracula the novel; and the reason for that is, specifically, a difference in character.

Count Dracula, while dangerous, vampiric, and psychic, does not possess that same singular fascination with any given character in Stoker's book (save perhaps for Jonathan Harker, temporarily). He does drain Lucy night after night, and his method of killing, like with all vampires of his type, is allegorically sexual; but it isn't personal. She keeps receiving blood transfusions - effectively, refills!.. Other than her blood, he has little interest in her. He has companionship enough already - after all, he lives with three female vampires, who may be courtesans or wives, but are colloquially referred to as Vampire Brides; and, additionally, he maintains ongoing communication with some of the people and animals that live on his land. As such, when he does bite Jonathan's wife Mina, it is a practical decision - made in order to establish a potential spy in a group of people who appear to be intent on hunting him down.

Similarly, Mina herself - despite the usual characterization of her film portrayals, which are in many ways epitomized by Coppola's 1992 version - was not originally a vulnerable maiden. She is confident and educated, she has worked for a living as an educator prior to her marriage, and she knows how to use a typewriter as well as shorthand. She has no emotional connection to Dracula whatsoever beyond pure incandescent hatred; and, frankly, forcing her into any sort of romance with him is deeply inaccurate to her character - because Mina Harker is endlessly in love with her husband Jonathan.

They may be on the lower end of middle-class, but relatively stable and planning a life together - not only as husband and wife, but as solicitor and secretary, as well. It's as close to a power couple as a novel from the 1890s will approach.

This is not the case for Ellen Hutter, largely because her social circumstances are far more precarious.

Unlike Mina, she has been forcibly isolated for the majority of her life. In that, she is yet another in the line of tragic madwomen of the gothic genre - mostly due to her eccentricities and her psychic gift, which (as the Eggers version specifies) manifested early in her childhood and became socially inexcusable during her teenage years, much like any real-world form of neurodivergence. It is implied that she has been institutionalized at some point as a result; and even prior to that, her father kept her confined indoors and away from other people in efforts to control her.

This isolation is what originally leads to her connection with Orlok - who was woken from his centuries-long deathlike sleep when he heard her reaching out into the ether, begging for a friend. Then, later in her life, the same circumstances unfortunately have a direct effect on her relationship with her husband Thomas, too; while she is attached to him, she cannot ignore that she is also utterly dependent on him as her ticket to a stable life, as well as out from under her father's thumb. Again, unlike Mina, she has no marketable skills or opportunities outside of this marriage; and while Thomas never shames her for her past, he still pressures her to ignore and repress it. The manifestations of her psychic ability concern, then unsettle, then frighten him - and, ultimately, there is a transactional aspect to their union. Thomas expects himself to move ahead in the world, like his friend Friedrich; and Ellen is expected to eventually become normal. She is expected to become a happy, pretty wife and mother like Anna Harding - because, while Thomas cares for her and fully intends to provide for her, he refuses to actually understand her.

Furthermore, it must be noted that leaving her father's estate for her husband's house did not entirely save Ellen from her isolation. Unlike Mina, she has no real friends of her own. Her only friend in the 2024 film is Anna, her husband's best friend's wife; and in the 1922 original, even that tentative affection is unclear. As such, Orlok remains the only character that truly knows and accepts her as she is - which inevitably complicates their dynamic.

While Orlok is, by his own admission, incapable of a human love, he is overwhelmingly and exclusively obsessed with Ellen. Unlike Dracula, who even in death keeps the company of his women and his people, Orlok exists in utter solitude. Prior to his death, he was also heavily avoided due to his being in "covenant with the devil." The 2024 film especially makes it clear that Ellen's call, which woke him from his slumber, is exceptional; their connection is intensely personal, and it is as close to love as he can ever feel.

This aspect of the vampire's characterization fundamentally alters the context of his behaviour throughout the film. While Dracula moved to England in search of new hunting grounds and little else, Orlok goes to Germany specifically to find Ellen. By marrying Thomas Hutter, she broke the covenant she made with Orlok in her youth; thus, knowing that his claim has been infringed upon, the Count makes contact with Hutter's real estate law firm, summons him to the Carpathians, crosses the sea, and arrives to Wisborg as a physical manifestation of every dark urge and ability she has been attempting to repress. He torments her husband, tricks him into signing a marriage annulment, plagues the city, and murders the Hardings - all of it for her. She is his unique and all-consuming motivation. Again and again, he insists upon their covenant, reminding her that she has never truly belonged to the human world, and he is not incorrect in his assessment. Ellen's surrounding society infantilizes and binds her, often literally. She has nothing to lose by leaving it, except for her own sense of morality; and that is why Orlok, who represents her own abnormality, remains a beautiful, nightmarish temptation.

The other characters diverge from Stoker's just as much.

Thomas Hutter has little in common with Jonathan Harker beyond his choice in career and his time at a vampire's castle. Despite his careful attachment to his wife, he does not actually take her opinions into consideration when he plans their life - he prioritizes his social and financial advancements, which are of no interest to her, and which he sees as his duties to her and to himself; and, when she exhibits any of her unusual or melancholic traits, he does his best to try and move past them as quickly as possible. He does not experience the same attraction to the horror that she does; he cannot bring himself to understand it; and both in 1922 and in 2024, he is also largely oblivious to her eccentricities, gifting her flowers despite the fact that she does not like to see them picked and dying in a vase. That is a far cry from Jonathan - who knows his wife's love of train schedules, who is practicing shorthand with her, and who is willing to join her in cursed, godforsaken undeath when faced with the possibility of her turning. Ultimately, Thomas exists too firmly within the same societal constraints that Ellen abhors, and their relationship has none of the foundation that is unshakably shared by Jonathan and Mina.

At the same time, while the Anna is a parallel to Lucy, and her husband is a corresponding Arthur, the Hardings (once again) have no particular commonality with them. Their characterization remains undeveloped in the original 1922 film - and while Eggers does grant them some definition, it is still in no way similar to Stoker's.

Stoker's Lucy is a charming, cheerful, flirty, and a little coquettish young girl; she exists on the cusp of womanhood and marriage, and her pre-vampire arc revolves around her choice between three almost-equally delightful suitors. She adores and idolizes Mina, she is childishly excited about her future; and in these things, she is very different from Anna, who is already married, a mother of two with one on the way - and who does care for Ellen, but in a motherly, rather than girlish, fashion.

Her husband, too, is quite different from Arthur Holmwood.

In 2024, Friedrich Harding is - above all else - the film's personification of the trap that is patriarchy. He is the epitome of what a man is expected to be: a successful business owner with a pretty blonde wife and 2.5 kids (I thought Anna's pregnancy was very much on the nose. Quite literally, 2.5 kids!). He is generous, he cares for his family, and he is firmly Rational. On the surface, Harding appears to be an ideal made flesh; and as the film progresses, it becomes evident that this ideal is designed to crumble.

Much of Harding's rationality is heavily hypocritical. While he claims to be making all his decisions based on pure logic, Ellen's - an outsider's - perspective exposes the truth behind his motivations. He ignores her warnings because he does not like her and considers her impudent; he kicks his own sick best friend out of his house with only his similarly sick wife to care for him, because he is annoyed and unsettled by their references to the supernatural; he refuses to listen to Von Franz and ignores the danger his family is in, because he is frightened of losing them to something he cannot comprehend, rather than a mundane, potentially treatable illness. All of these decisions are emotional, rooted in his misogyny and closed-mindedness - and so, Harding loses his daughters, his wife, his unborn son, as well as the unflappable, rational facade he had been so carefully maintaining. He ends the film a wreckage of himself, having committed necrophilia with the corpse of his wife because he was emotionally, irrationally unable to let go of her even in death; he dies of the plague that came to Wisborg through his own ship yard, holding her in his arms. Even under the guise of benevolence, his patriarchal worldview undermines and fails him entirely. It is a terrible thrill to watch him fall apart, and the ruin that is left in his place is one of the most obvious illustrations of the story's principal themes.

The other characterizations follow a similar sort of pattern. Sievers, unlike Seward, has no romantic rivalry with Harding; and beyond a professional connection, they are not really friends. Von Franz is far less knowledgeable about vampires than Van Helsing - for the majority of the film, he is stumbling in the dark with the rest of the cast, only finding a way of destroying Orlok in Herr Knock's codex. Knock, too, is far less noble than Renfield - even though he is just as insane as his counterpart, he sees Ellen as an object to be traded for money and power, rather than a kind soul that he would die to protect.

(Quincey Morris, unfortunately, does not exist in Nosferatu. Murnau hadn't found a place for a cowboy in his production; consequently, Eggers could not, either.)

The point is, really, that while Dracula and Nosferatu share a common premise, a comparison between them cannot be made without acknowledging the glaring differences between their characters. For instance, even though Orlok's relationship with Ellen is toxic in the usual vampiric way - part sex, part horror, part possession, part liberation - Thomas is by no means a perfect partner for her, either, because he is not Jonathan Harker, and Ellen is not Mina. Similarly, Von Franz, Sievers, and Harding are not a brave vampire hunting team - they are all blind, each in their own specific way (Von Franz, lacking straightforward knowledge; Sievers, trusting Von Franz without question; Harding, unable to think outside of societal rules). Expecting them to react to their situation the same way as the cast of Dracula is an exercise in futility.