Nosferatu

Adaptations need new life injected into them to breathe. Especially those that recycle characters or creatures with specific tropes. The first vampire on film was that of the titular character in the 1922 silent horror Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. A project that a century on, is still rivetingly unsettling and difficult to break away from. Nosferatu set the tone and inspired dozens of vampire films, tv shows and franchises. In our age of reboots and revamps, the OG having fallen victim to plenty over the decades, it was only a matter of time before he graced us with his presence again.

In the isolated and near-abandoned mining town of Bluewater, Tom (Keegan Joyce) and Mayor Knock (Max Brown) are desperately trying to find investors to re-open the mine that was keeping their town afloat. Their next hurdle being Tom’s girlfriend Ellen (Shamita Siva), a journalist that is on her own desperate mission to publish a report that exposes the environmental damages that are crumbling the town. Tom then makes one last ditch effort to sway a mysterious investor in Sydney, that goes by the name of Count Orlok (Jacob Collins-Levy). What follows in their wake is a dark trail of destruction, mental decline, seduction and murder.

Playwright Keziah Warner knew she had big shoes to fill when pitching her new spin on Nosferatu to Melbourne’s Malthouse Theatre. Switching Transylvania for Tasmania and real estate for investment, Warner has spun the classic into a bold new tale about Australia’s relationship with the environment, capitalism and more frighteningly: our deepest, darkest insecurities – a haunting skill synonymous with the stereotypical vamp. Warner and Director Bridget Balodis have pulled off an incredible feat – modernising classic folklore with relatable themes of climate change, mental health and political corruption. Collins-Levy as Count Orlok is as deliciously charismatic as he is hypnotic. His comic timing with his fellow actors is impeccable, and he is a wonder to watch even when the spotlight is elsewhere. Brown, Siva and Sophie Ross as the local doctor Kate, are all superb and bounce off each other with ease. One standout scene with all characters drinking around a dining table and fast forwarding through time is mesmerising to see play out. Brown also deserves an honourable mention here, as a man who is promised the world and given anything but.

The real standout here however is Romanie Harper’s set design and Paul Jackson’s lighting. Harper’s backdrop of multiple doors is a genius manoeuvre that allows multiple plot-lines to be running simultaneously with little movement. There are also some incredible sequences that probably should come with a warning for those who are a little squeamish with blood. Jackson’s lighting is also effective from the opening moment where it really begs the question of how one character gets on stage so swiftly.

Avid fans of the original film might be taken aback with the level of comedy in Nosferatu, but it pays off. It’s a fantastic blend of self-aware humour and atmospheric horror. The third act falters slightly and I believe it slightly loses its groove in the closing moments, but everything that comes before it is an exhilarating ride. It is yet another Melbourne theatre production that exceeds all expectations and cannot be missed.

Nosferatu is playing at the Malthouse Theatre until 5^th March, 2023.