Nosferatu (2024)

Johnny Depp's giant-eyed daughter, Lily-Rose, stars in a Sweeney Todd-esque desaturated world of sadness and despair. Lily-Rose does not come close to her father's acting prowess. Though, to her credit, she was given a really dumb backstory.

Nicholas Hoult (jock-to-crippled-weirdo in Skins) isn't bad. His best friend, Aaron Taylor-Johnson (the guy being stunted for in The Fall Guy), is. Ralph Ineson (dad of The VVitch) is pretty rad. Bill Skarsgård, lesser brother of Alexander, mostly scowls off-screen in shadows under such thick fake accent and make-up that it probably doesn't matter which human is under there.

As usual, with any movie involving Willem Dafoe, Willem Dafoe eventually shows up and puts all of the other actors and actresses to shame. To shame. They wisely throw him into plenty of scenes where he doesn't need to be, making those scenes all the better.

As far as horror goes, you have desaturated colors, brooding music, and a couple of poorly-executed jump-scares. Certainly nothing about the story itself, which is about a contract dispute between real estate agent, home buyer, and homeowner's association.

Nothing that happens in the first two hours has any bearing on the conclusion, then Lily-Rose quickly fucks the new neighbor literally to death, resolving the real estate dispute, though not to her husband's satisfaction.