The release of Nosferatu evoked many feelings in its viewers: fear, shock, disgust, and apparently lust.

The film follows Ellen Hutter (Lily Rose-Depp), a girl haunted by her pledge to Count Orlok. (Bill Skarsgård) Orlok tricks her husband, Thomas (Nicholas Hoult), into travelling to his Transylvanian castle, and they share a few disturbing, candlelit dinners before Orlok attacks Thomas. Thomas escapes, barely alive, before being nursed back to life by nuns at a nearby church. Orlok sets out for Wisburg, where the Hutters live, to meet Ellen and sets a plague upon the town. Ellen ultimately chooses to sacrifice herself, allowing him to feed on her until sunrise, when the sunlight kills him, to free the town.

Is it strange to find this hideous creature attractive? …Yes. But it follows a trend of unconventional romances being projected onto our screens, such as The Shape of Water (2017), Warm Bodies (2013), Bones and All (2022) and Lisa Frankenstein (2024). Why has this kind of interest in such… strange stories grown recently?

This perception of odd, fascinating love being a newfound thing that audiences are indulging in isn’t so new. After all, Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is an adaptation and we’ve seen different vampire and werewolf stories exist and evolve for centuries.

However, the actual moral implications of romanticising Ellen and Orlok’s relationship is one that has been debated, with discussion resurfacing online after the release of Eggers’ film. Internet users and articles, such as this one from Dread Central argue that “navigating consent within vampire narratives is tricky” and that the film isn’t interested in engaging with the idea of romance between Ellen and Orlok whatsoever.

In an interview with The Verge, Eggers himself weighed in on the topic.

“It was always clear to me that Nosferatu is a demon lover story… [Ellen] doesn’t have the language to articulate her experiences… the only person she really finds a connection with is this monster, and that love triangle is so compelling to me, partially because of how tragic it is.”

Regardless of where you stand, Nosferatu is a compelling story about how femininity is suppressed in male societies through the taboo lens of lust. Rose-Depp’s performance is amazing, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s acting as Friedrich Harding, a family friend who refuses to believe Ellen’s premonitions, dreams and warnings about Orlok, somehow makes us hate a universally loved man. Both actors are excellent at portraying this overarching theme.

However, Defoe’s character, Professor Albin Eberhart von Franz, is one of the only men who believes Ellen’s story and works till the end to save her and Wisburg, a kind comfort amongst the dark, gothic landscape of Eggers’ film

But I cannot forget Thomas Hutter in all of this. He is the perfect loving, “pathetic loser husband”, as some have coined it. He carries around a memento of Ellen until Orlok snatches it away, only thinks of her as he attempts to escape his Transylvanian castle. He treats her with love and care while indulging her visions and possessed lust, stopping at no end to save her. In the dark, gloomy world of Wisborg, his love for her is able to make us feel warm, even if it’s sandwiched between jump scares and gory sights.

No matter what you may think of the romance in Nosferatu, and whether there is any at all, it is a film definitely worth watching. Eggers is undeniably an auteur: his works all have a beautiful consistency in cinematography, painting dark, grisly worlds that we would rather not be part of but cannot help but observe. His latest film continues this pattern.

If you get easily scared, though, maybe think twice. But I do mean easily scared - there are only one or two jump scares (not including Orlok’s appearance) and some gross moments. Maybe don’t take your parents.

Sumaya is a first-year student studying a double degree in Media and Law. She loves watching movies and has even memorised student deals for cinemas across Sydney - you can ask her if you want!