Let's not mince words: this movie is a mess.
To read of the history of the production it's clear that disorder in the finished film is in no small part a reflection of chaos that plagued the feature at every turn - unsurprisingly, largely the fault of brilliant but notorious, volatile, unpredictable Klaus Kinski. For as scattered and disjointed as 'Nosferatu in Venice' is, however, whatever the source of its troubles, the result is rather flummoxing. In many, many ways this is imbalanced and uneven. The sound design might be crystal clear, or it might be muddied as though recording equipment were submerged in a large pool of water to obtain desired audio through the liquid medium. The acting ranges from reserved, to on point, to wildly overzealous. Some themes in Luigi Ceccarelli's excellent, mostly synth-driven score are dark, haunting ambient soundscapes, while seemingly out of the blue others will adopt a harsh, distorted tenor that feels like an amalgamation of rock, aggrotech, and the most dramatic of symphonic and choral pieces. The very tone of the picture oscillates wildly from one scene to the next, to the point that the colloquial usage of the word "whiplash" seems very appropriate.
If we're feeling generous we might assume that some of this disparate back and forth could have been deliberate. Given the severe fragmentation throughout the affair, however, there's no chance all of it was. Even the writing greatly suffers: it's not always clear who a character is, or what significance they may have. Dialogue is often simply bland, whether it's delivered with overwrought gusto or soporific mumbling; it's hard to tell at any given time whose part suffered the most in this regard, but I'm inclined to say it was Donald Pleasence. There is a complete story told, but it is communicated very poorly, such that at times it's not actually clear what's happening in a scene. I do like the plot generally speaking, and many of the ideas here; some individual scenes are pretty great. "Generally" and "some" struggle to carry the day, however.
It's not that 'Nosferatu in Venice' is altogether rotten. The production design, art direction, and costume design are outstanding; the filming locations are gorgeous. It's kind of entertaining; this could have been much better than it is. Speculation means nothing to a finished film, though: it's a slog, and between considerable weakness from the outset, and the disarray sown with Kinski's outrageous demands and profoundly awful behavior, the resulting picture is a shade of its best self. There are worse films you could watch, certainly - only, all told, there's no major reason to spend your time with this one, either. Wherever you want to place the blame, a hodgepodge of terrific potential falls flat more than not. Credit where it's due by all means, but 'Nosferatu in Venice' is maybe a movie for the utmost curious and vampire diehards, and not many others.
To read of the history of the production it's clear that disorder in the finished film is in no small part a reflection of chaos that plagued the feature at every turn - unsurprisingly, largely the fault of brilliant but notorious, volatile, unpredictable Klaus Kinski. For as scattered and disjointed as 'Nosferatu in Venice' is, however, whatever the source of its troubles, the result is rather flummoxing. In many, many ways this is imbalanced and uneven. The sound design might be crystal clear, or it might be muddied as though recording equipment were submerged in a large pool of water to obtain desired audio through the liquid medium. The acting ranges from reserved, to on point, to wildly overzealous. Some themes in Luigi Ceccarelli's excellent, mostly synth-driven score are dark, haunting ambient soundscapes, while seemingly out of the blue others will adopt a harsh, distorted tenor that feels like an amalgamation of rock, aggrotech, and the most dramatic of symphonic and choral pieces. The very tone of the picture oscillates wildly from one scene to the next, to the point that the colloquial usage of the word "whiplash" seems very appropriate.
If we're feeling generous we might assume that some of this disparate back and forth could have been deliberate. Given the severe fragmentation throughout the affair, however, there's no chance all of it was. Even the writing greatly suffers: it's not always clear who a character is, or what significance they may have. Dialogue is often simply bland, whether it's delivered with overwrought gusto or soporific mumbling; it's hard to tell at any given time whose part suffered the most in this regard, but I'm inclined to say it was Donald Pleasence. There is a complete story told, but it is communicated very poorly, such that at times it's not actually clear what's happening in a scene. I do like the plot generally speaking, and many of the ideas here; some individual scenes are pretty great. "Generally" and "some" struggle to carry the day, however.
It's not that 'Nosferatu in Venice' is altogether rotten. The production design, art direction, and costume design are outstanding; the filming locations are gorgeous. It's kind of entertaining; this could have been much better than it is. Speculation means nothing to a finished film, though: it's a slog, and between considerable weakness from the outset, and the disarray sown with Kinski's outrageous demands and profoundly awful behavior, the resulting picture is a shade of its best self. There are worse films you could watch, certainly - only, all told, there's no major reason to spend your time with this one, either. Wherever you want to place the blame, a hodgepodge of terrific potential falls flat more than not. Credit where it's due by all means, but 'Nosferatu in Venice' is maybe a movie for the utmost curious and vampire diehards, and not many others.