Herzog's Nosferatu is an esthetic triumph. A feeling of subtle horror practically oozes from the screen—a remarkable achievement, considering that the director managed it with techniques and imagery (the soft-focus pastels) not normally associated with horror films. Yet if this film may be a feast for the eyes, it is dreary for the mind. No amount of directorial prestidigitation can disguise the bareness of the material. One wishes that Herzog had chosen a more worthy vehicle for his talents. (p. 24)