I’ve mentioned Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way in several posts already, so I won’t rehash how taking what I need from her creative theories has helped me. But hear me out; if you’re a writer or some other creative type, give it a shot. Don’t feel obligated to do every single step. We still (for now) have free will; take what you need. One of her suggestions, the Artist’s Date, encourages you to take yourself out for some creative exploration. Slow down and pay attention to your surroundings. Listen to your own thoughts. Sounds simple enough, right? Except for those of us newly single—how long do I get to call myself “newly,” by the way? Is there a statute of limitations on defining singledom? Anywhoots, the idea of going solo to do something typically done in pairs is daunting, to say the least. It’s as if I’d been using former romantic partners as a human security blanket this whole time. Who knew? I might need to unpack that a little more.
The funny thing is, I never thought twice about people doing things alone. I didn’t pity the solo diner or moviegoer—I barely noticed them because I was too caught up in my own life, as most people are. Until, of course, I became the one in the solo seat. Since starting Midlife Rewrite, I’ve taken myself to plenty of coffee shops to work on articles. In fact, I’m sitting in one right now in lovely Carrboro, NC—shoutout Open Eye Café!—enjoying a café au lait and people-watching while thinking about the movie I want to tell you about. Last Sunday, I took myself on an Artist’s Date to see Nosferatu. And guess what? No one laughed at me, no one whispered, “Oh, poor thing she’s all alone, I’ll bet she’s a cat lady,” no one cared. I very quickly realized something important: I didn’t care. Not a single care given. I might even take myself to dinner next week—to a place where nobody knows my name! Look out, world, can’t tell me nothing.
Okay, back to the movie. Nosferatu, directed by Robert Eggers, stars Lily-Rose Depp, Nicholas Hoult, and Bill Skarsgard (yes, with full-frontal Skarsgard for those keeping score). This 2024 version is a remake of the 1922 silent classic that inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Life always circles back to vampires, doesn’t it? But Eggers’ Count Orlok is the opposite of a sparkling, misunderstood romantic hero suffering through high school for the 100th time. This guy is nightmare fuel—disfigured, grotesque, and entirely without pity. The man is missing chunks of his body and has no hair but somehow sports a full mustache. Let’s all just agree to suspend disbelief for that detail, shall we? And if you think the story is dark, the cinematography doubles down on it.
I enjoyed the movie immensely, but I have a wee bit of a different take than some; I’m giving it a feminist spin if you will. At its core, Nosferatu explores themes of power, control, and how women’s voices are often silenced—literally and metaphorically. As a child, Depp’s Ellen Hutter wishes for a companion who will love her eternally, not realizing that this innocent plea essentially summons Count Orlok, her dark shadow, who haunts her life forever. Seriously, who among us hasn’t pined away for an eternal love that would be hopelessly devoted to you? Any of us could’ve summoned the demon with or without a Ouija board from our youth. I suppose it’s good he waited until she was of marriage age before he sought out his blood-driven desires and exacted his pound of flesh. (pound…word choices are purposeful here) She's dismissed as hysterical when she later warns of his impending arrival. Instead of being taken seriously, she’s sedated and tied to her bed in a corset—classic 19th-century medicine for "overly emotional women." And honestly, it's not so different from today when women are often gaslit for speaking truth to power. I’m looking at you, workplaces, healthcare, half of the political system, and perhaps Ex. I digress.
Lily-Rose Depp’s performance as Ellen is haunting, and it’s clear she did her homework. (Also of note: as a young woman of the 2020s, Depp has surprisingly avoided the dreaded iPhone face that so many actors of her age group have acquired. The costumes and makeup for this film are outstanding.) I read that she studied 19th-century depictions of “hysteria” and even used Louise Bourgeois’ Arch of Hysteria as inspiration for Ellen’s movements during her nighttime dream trances. Depp also read Remy de Gourmont’s short story Pehor, which centers on a young girl’s sexual awakening through a demon—talk about a “be careful what you wish for” scenario. It’s not all fun and games in dark romance, no? Ellen’s tragedy is that she’s the only one who understands the danger, but her warnings fall on deaf ears. It’s a painfully familiar story: a woman ringing the alarm while everyone around her says, “Relax, it’s not that serious here have some more laudanum.”
Donning my feminist hat again, I don't think this is just a plot device—it feels like a genuine reflection of how women have historically been dismissed, or at the very least, ignored until it’s too late. Ellen’s treatment in the film mirrors real-life stories of women whose warnings about dangers in society—whether political, or social—are overlooked until the damage is done. The irony, of course, is that when things inevitably go south, women are often left to clean up the mess. Poor Ellen fights the good fight, but it’s hard to win when your teammates are mansplaining you into oblivion. Inevitably, she has to clean up the mess as a solo diner.
That brings me to Willem Dafoe’s Professor Albin Eberhart von Franz, one of the few men in the film who actually listens to Ellen from the jump. Imagine that—a man who not only listens but believes her! Groundbreaking. Dafoe’s performance is perfection, as expected, but it also underscores how rare it is to see male characters who act as true allies rather than skeptics. Von Franz’s support really stands out as a bit of an anomaly. He doesn't view Ellen as a hysterical damsel. She might well be a disposable victim but she's badass and bangs the bad guy to death. (get over it, that's not a spoiler, this story is older than all of us)
Beyond the feminist undertones, Eggers’ Nosferatu is visually stunning. Every frame feels like a gothic oil painting come to life, and the atmosphere pulls you in so entirely that you might forget to breathe. Skarsgard’s Count Orlok is grotesque, disfigured, and genuinely terrifying. His castle is both mesmerizing and claustrophobic—a visual metaphor for how Ellen’s life, and everyone adjacent to her, is slowly consumed by the shadow of this monstrous figure.
Now, I could hop back on my soapbox and rant about how Hollywood’s obsession with remakes and sequels has stifled originality or how capitalism has turned creativity into a casualty of profit margins. I mean absolutely none of that is a lie or an exaggeration, but you didn’t come here for that. I digress (I digress a lot; you’ll get used to it). The point is Nosferatu defies expectations. It doesn’t feel like a cash-grab remake; it feels like a deliberate, artful reimagining that has something important to say—about fear, power, and the resilience of women who refuse to be silenced. One could say Ellen brought this plague upon the world herself but one does not victim shame here on Midlife Rewrite. We believe women.
So, here’s my recommendation: go see Nosferatu in the theater. If you’re brave, go alone. You’ll be fine, I promise. You can wait for it to hit a streaming service but Nosferatu deserves the big screen and surround sound. It is a gothic beauty that has the ability to immerse you in another world—a world of plagues, hysteria, and shadows that stretch far beyond the screen. Seriously, the shadow analogies are top notch creepy! And when you watch it, think about Ellen. Think about how often women’s warnings are ignored, both in fiction and real life, and maybe—maybe—consider listening more carefully to the Ellens of the world. Or, just go see it for Skarsgard’s prosthetic peen and some good old-fashioned horror. (His fingers are also prosthetics; they did that so he could wipe his ass while filming without impaling himself. The more you know – insert flying rainbow emoji. Vampires do love a good impaling, don’t they?) Okay, now I’ll stop. I’m telling you, digress is my middle name!
Now, let me leave you with a few questions to ponder because, as you know, one thing I love more than digressing is a good conversation starter:
What’s the last outstanding horror film you watched?
Have you ever unknowingly or knowingly taken yourself on a solo Artist’s Date?
What’s the last movie or TV show that captivated you and made you think about current events?
Leave a comment, and let’s talk about it!