An Unusual Cultural Artifact of Religious Revival
Religiosity in America, measured in denominational affiliation and church attendance, has never been lower. Over the past decades, a growing culture of atheism (and non-denominationalism) has spread across the country and permeated into our art, traditions and politics. But in the aftermath of the pandemic lockdown and amid pivotal foreign conflicts and widespread economic malaise, Americans seem to be slowly inching back toward religiosity — at least in the sense of a supernatural, high-being.
While most Christians in the United States spent this past December preparing for and celebrating Christmas, movie theaters welcomed the absolutely terrifying remake of a 1920s silent film classic: Nosferatu. Inspired by the late 19th century novel Dracula by Bram Stoker, Nosferatu tells the story of a newly-wedded couple, Thomas and Ellen Hutter (played by Nicholas Hoult and Lily-Rose Depp) being haunted by a vampire.
In addition to having an outstanding commercial performance — while most of us had sugarplums dancing in our heads no less — Nosferatu may be the first film of what will become a religious revival in America. Although few churches (note: I said few) will claim the gothic horror movie one of their own, the story of a young marriage and a belief in vampires charts closely to broader societal trends back toward some form of religiosity. Stunned by the breathtaking shots of the Translyvanian countryside, viewers of Nosferatu are slowly and subtly being reintroduced to the power of faith in a world bogged down by scientific research papers.
Psychic since birth, Ellen formed an unfortunate attachment to the undead spirit of Count Orlok in her teenage years when she reached out to the void for companionship. She was haunted by Orlok for years and plagued with melancholy until she married Thomas, which dispelled the demon and her melancholy. But Orlok is not so easily thwarted. The main plot of the movie follows how the count lures Thomas away from Ellen with promises of a promotion so that he can resume haunting her.
The chilling first half of the film depicts Thomas journeying through Eastern Europe to the castle of Count Orlok (where he is revealed to be a vampire) and then rushing back to his wife. When he finds Ellen wracked by nightmares and violent seizures, the story’s deeper social commentary reveals itself.
Some see Ellen’s malady as the old melancholy come home to roost, but this doesn’t satisfy her doctor, Wilhelm Sievers, who suspects some spiritual foul play. He seeks out the advice of the older, unconventional and ostracized scientist Albin Eberhart Von Franz.
Von Franz, upon further investigation, realizes Ellen is possessed and claims her illness cannot be explained by rationality or the reason of modern medicine. Rather, he turns his attention to occult remedies. And as a result, the couple, the doctors and their friends are able to uncover the lurking menace of Nosferatu — and put an end to it.
An oversimplification of scientific inquiry and the rushed judgement of religious and non-mainstream opinions is awfully on the nose these days. From the “Believe the Science” era of COVID-19 policies to quick judgement of Robert Kennedy Jr. and the Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) movement, one can see Sievers and Von Franz in modern day scientists like Director of the National Institutes of Health (NIH) nominee Jay Bhattacharya.
Similarly, an intellectual return of religiosity and a belief in a higher being permeates across academic circles and Silicon Valley. Over the past few years, those who vaguely identify with Christianity’s traditions and cultural significance have begun to describe themselves as “cultural Christians.” This has extended even to once outspoken atheists like Richard Dawkins and the richest man in the world Elon Musk.
Certainly, few Christians (nor Jews, Muslims, Hindus, etc.) would opt to describe a film riddled with explicit content as an artifact of their faith and its role in society. But that’s precisely what Nosferatu is. While criticizing our blind loyalty to scientific explanations, the movie offers a fresh exhibition of how the unexplainable powers of beyond should still be considered. And this would not be on the big screen if it weren’t for a budding desire for religious revival. Something is certainly in the air — is it the lingering feels of Christmas? Or a darker wind from Transylvania? You be the judge.
Sam Raus, a recent graduate of the University of Miami, is a Tech and Consumer Freedom fellow with Young Voices. Follow him on Twitter: @SamRaus1.
