How “Nosferatu” reinvents the vampire for a new era

“Hearst Magazines and Yahoo may earn commissions or revenue from certain articles through these links.”

To understand a film like that of Robert Eggers Nosferatu, we must understand the difference between terror and horror. Terror is the feeling of dread at the possibility of something frightening; horror is the actual vision of the scary thing itself. So when you’re deciding what an interesting vampire movie should look like, whether you’re emulating FW Murnau’s iconic original film, Nosferatu (1922), create your own unique vision, or perhaps a mixture of both: a filmmaker must balance what is seen and what is not.

This is what makes Eggers’ new addition to the genre so interesting and also so difficult to disguise. On the one hand, Nosferatu is a period piece set between 19th century Germany and Transylvania; on the other, it’s an update of the classic vampire film with a villain we don’t get a clear glimpse of until at least a third of the way through the film. And in the deft hands of Linda Muir, Eggers’ costume designer and longtime collaborator, the clothes here are a masterclass.

It’s clear that Muir and his team spared no effort and bitten their necks when it came to finding the perfect, period-appropriate textiles, rooting their approach in 19th-century German textile books and one-of-a-kind vintage pieces to transmute an entirely new vision of what a vampire film should look like. Muir pays attention to the way certain costumes reflect candlelight and blend into shadows, so when we finally lay eyes on Bill Skarsgård’s Count Orlok, he feels all the more real. (Note: The film’s distributor, Focus Features, even collaborated with Heretic Parfum on what vampires should smell like, with the new scary Nosferatu Water of Macabre.)

Does that sound attractive? Read on for our costume discussion with Linda Muir, if you dare.

You have collaborated with Robert Eggers on several films, including The Northman (2022), The Lighthouse (2019) And The Witch (2015). What’s it like working with one filmmaker on so many different projects?

Every project is different in that the material is different. But the way we work together, the “MO” is the same and only becomes easier and more friendship-oriented because you know what each other’s shortcut is and you know what works for each of us.

Robert has a very clear vision for each of these films. I imagine this affects your research process.

When Robert writes each of these incredible screenplays, he begins with his own very detailed research and incorporates that research into the screenplay. Then it’s up to me to elaborate, get more specific, and ask the questions we need answered. Robert always delivers what he wants and what he sees, and these are always his unique visions. He makes a really nice lookbook and we get this information and then I put it all over my walls and I start thinking about what it means, what it means.

So once he gives you the scripts and the lookbooks, what does your process look like?

Then I start to find the texts, paintings and images that I need to make sense of this, because we are the ones who will find the textiles, make the shapes, adapt the actors from the skin. Every layer of costumes – from corsets and nightgowns to sleepwear, stockings, coats – all of this was made for this film. More precisely, it is also German. So we found the costume magazines that are German for specific years. Count Orlok’s costumes are all from a different era because he predates our main characters by centuries, and then we have these Romanian Orthodox nuns and priests who are very specific. The research is really thorough and I really like it.

As for the source material, there’s so much to work with here. From traditional Eastern European vampire lore to the original Nosferatu 1922 film, to everything we know about Dracula, to the Francis Ford Coppola film Dracula by Bram Stoker (1992). How did your Orlok reference – or not – everything that came before?

There was a discussion between Robert and I that our approach would be more about unconsciously evoking than recreating. Our approach to designing Orlok’s costumes was to create what Robert had seen and reference Murnau’s original film (1922) and the book written by Bram Stoker. by Coppola Dracula is so stylized with really stunning costumes, but that wasn’t what we were doing. Ours was more anchored in reality, in a more authentic world. This meant looking for very specific silhouettes. The cape, for example – it’s not a black satin Dracula cape – it’s a Transylvanian nobleman’s cape which, due to the time and culture, is a sleeved cloak worn as a cape. Thus, the silhouette, the collar and its height to the back of Orlok’s head were definitely reminiscent of Murnau’s vampire.

Tell me about your costume choices for your Count Orlok.

I start with my sketches and textile research, and think about things like: is it going to be seen in firelight, camera light, or moonlight? So let’s select textiles that contain gold or silver threads to reflect light. Then we start doing our canvases and fittings with the actors. This is when we see that this coat needs to be bulkier, this coat needs to be lined with fur to give it the right weight, sleeve length, etc.

So the design process must involve quick pivots, I guess.

There was a cape that ended up being so heavy we had to add a quick release harness to get into it. It is truly an ongoing process throughout the preparation period.

One thing that struck me about the cinematography is the transition from color to a sort of grayscale to black and white. How did that impact your costume decisions?

Robert really likes black, white and gray, and I love color. It’s always a conversation between him and me. I try to control colors and use very specific favorites and color combinations. I am also guided by what is accurate for the time period. Actual textiles from the years before 1838. If you look at the actual patterns in textile books or sample books with fabric swatches from that time, it was a crazy time for patterns. You can have one side of a fabric with stripes, paisley and shading in the same textile, and it’s interesting but very distracting. So it’s about trying to understand how to evoke this period with appropriate textiles that do not dominate prints, patterns or colors, but also differentiate each character from the others.

What was the challenge of costuming this film?

All the different cultures (represented in the film) need to be researched, fabrics researched, designs discussed with tailors. And with Nosferatu there was a real process because we prepared and shot in Prague and our costume shop didn’t have a lot of people who spoke English, so a lot of translation had to be done. So he was another fascinating player in that he brought the whole workshop together and emphasized how important it was to be precise in tracking designs and research materials.

This entire cast is amazing, but I specifically have to ask about Lily-Rose Depp, who is very well known for her personal sense of style. What does she like to work with?

Lily-Rose was extraordinary. She has always been interested in historical information. Maybe there were parts of the costumes that needed to be changed because you didn’t realize from your sketches that they needed to be worn on bodies and worn by people – but no one came in and said, “I will.” I don’t wear this. What I loved about Lily-Rose and Emma Corrin was that they were like, “I would wear that right now!” And what I realized in making these very detailed period films is that the very beautiful designs, the very beautiful clothes are timeless. You connect to something you wear regardless of the period if you like how it makes you feel. This was also the case for Robert Pattinson when he tried on oilskins for The lighthouse– he was very interested in her appearance.

Have you had to deal with any wardrobe malfunctions on set?

One day, I was working in the design office when I received this call to come quickly and adjust the set. Everyone was madly huddled around Lily and Lily looked stricken. I walked up to her and the back of her wedding veil had three or four massive tears. I’m talking about a wedding veil that I found in London which is a vintage wedding veil: it looked like a spider’s web, it was so wispy. We took down the original veil and washed it and everyone treated it like the Shroud of Turin. It was then made into this beautiful handmade lilac bridal veil, made for us outside of Florence.

In the photo, Lily had her back to the camera and the velcro around the camera snagged on the veil, then they moved the camera back and the veil was just shredded. We stitched this madly, and the photo is backlit, meaning anything you do to it will be visible. We all followed, and Lily was great, and we continued. We managed to sew it back into graceful folds – I don’t think you can see that in the film!

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

You might also like