Nosferatu

Eggers does not make films so much as he makes conditions. Nosferatu is cold, damp, and lit almost entirely by things that are on fire, and for two hours you are simply in it.

The story is the story. You know the story. What is new is how sincerely the film takes the idea of obsession as an illness, and how much of the runtime it is willing to spend on a woman being disbelieved by every man in the room.

Lily-Rose Depp is the reason it works. The performance is enormous and completely unembarrassed, all rigid limbs and sounds a person should not be able to make.

Where it wobbles is fear. There is dread by the bucketload, but genuine scares are rare. You leave impressed rather than shaken, which for a vampire film is a slightly odd result.

Still, if you want to look at something beautiful and feel damp for two hours, here you go.