Nosferatu – a Symphony of Horror F W Murnau (Ger; 1922)
Nosferatu – a Symphony of Horror F W Murnau (Ger; 1922) Max Scheck, Gustav von Wangenheim, Greta Schroder
Live tracked by S!nk
Star and Shadow Cinema 14 Mar 2025; ticket £12; £10
the with and the without
By today’s standards Murnau’s ‘Nosferatu’ lacks the literalist rendering of Robert Eggers’ recent 2024 re-make of the same title. Eggers’ movie with its promiscuous use of CGI replaces narrative coherence with a series of spectacles: hallucinations, tomb openings and the final sexual parody, the energetic absurdist coupling of the monstrous Nosferatu and Ellen. Eggers’ ‘Nosferatu’ piling one thing on top of another devalues any sense of climax (sic), or plot line as the film comes to resemble a series of spectacular adverts. For which one might conclude that it’s in tune in with the attention demands of today’s audience.
Murnau in 1922 delivered a completely different type of ‘Nosferatu’ which takes the form of a dark quest. It’s a journey of evil in which the tensions are built up slowly as Nosferatu’s journey reaches its end goal the seeking out and possession of Greta (Eggers’ Ellen). Murnau’s structure incorporates lyrical watery sequences that leaven the blood fuelled intentions of the Vampire as his coffin is carried by river and sea towards its destination.
Murnau’s 1922 picture had no synchronised sound track. No dialogue no stings no reinforcing mood music. But the experience of the audience was of course not silent. Separated from the picture, music was played in the cinema as the accompaniment to the projected film.
And this was the case at the Star and Shadow screening where the impro musicians – S!nk – live tracked ‘Nosferatu’.
To view film with sound married to picture (which is the universal situation today) and viewing film where the sound is separated from the picture is a very different experience; without the synchronised sound the audience has a completely different relationship with the image. More intuitive, more direct, opening up the viewer to another level of involvement with the material.
With sound on film the primary engagement of the audience is usually with the dialogue. Dialogue makes a cognitive demand: in order to follow the plot to assess the psychological motivations of the players, the thinking mind has to be engaged. Of course some of the narrative and characterisations are achieved by the picture, but if the dialogue is removed from a sound film (or if it is in a foreign language without subtitles) the action usually becomes incomprehensible and the viewer usually loses interest. Together with the dialogue sound on the picture is also represented by the music track and the FX track. These tracks tend to be manipulative. There are stings (either musical or FX) which underline moot points in the action and moments of realisation or in horror films characterised by exploiting sudden high volume. The music tracks typically reinforce the intended emotional response or mood the director thinks appropriate to any given scene. Sound on picture tends to be designed for manipulative affect – steering plot and plot rationale and reinforcing desired audience response.
Something different happens when the sound (usually musical accompaniment) is separated from the image. The audience moves into a very different state of mind, developing a distinctly different kind of relationship with the projected images. Without dialogue, the viewer’s consciousness locks directly onto the picture. Viewing becomes a non-verbal experience that replicates something close to the way in which the child experiences the world. Although accompanying music might have stings and mood re-enforcement, the primary effect of the music is to ease the psychic passage of the viewer into flow of the film. As the film develops the music starts to weave a trance-like atmosphere, creating the conditions for the viewers to pass out of their everyday state of mind and to be absorbed into the picture. To become again, for these moments, as children, at one with what they are seeing. A condition where there’s no separation between subject and object: the viewer is in the screen. And this surely is the ‘Magic of Cinema’ a magic that we have by and large lost.
This ‘Magic’ was re-activated by the audience, re-claimed by S!nk’s live tracking of ‘Nosferatu’. Of course not all ‘silent films’ are live tracked with the artistry finesse and sensitivity that S!nk bring to the task. But when it happens, then we are privileged to be able to take a step back in time both objectively and subjectively.
adrin neatrour
adrinuk@yahoo.co.uk