When it comes to creating a world of gothic horror, the devil is not just in the details—he lurks in every shadow, every crumbling stone, and every antique chair that stands as a silent witness to impending doom. For Robert Eggers’ adaptation of Nosferatu (2024), the production design by Craig Lathrop, along with set decoration by Beatrice Brentnerová, crafts an immersive and haunting environment, that breathes life into an eerie atmosphere of dread and mystery.

The film reimagines F.W. Murnau’s 1922 silent classic Nosferatu, set in 1838 in the fictional German town of Wisborg, and draws us into a world where everything—from the rustling of curtains to the creak of floorboards—plays a part in creating tension, emotion, and an ever-present feeling of decay beneath the beauty.

Take a read of Part 1 below where we investigate The Harding’s house, The Hutter’s house and the influence of art on the film. You can also watch the video interview below for more insights, or listen along on The Film and Furniture Podcast on Podbean, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and all your favourite podcast platforms.

The Harding House: A Mansion of Illusions

The design of Nosferatu is as meticulous as it is macabre. The Harding family’s home stands as a representation of wealth and aspiration, a house that speaks not only to Frederick Harding’s (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) success as a shipbuilder but also to the unsettling aspirations that hide behind its elegant façade.

The Biedermeier style, reflective of early 19th-century Europe, becomes a stage for subtle horror that begins at the very threshold.

Every corner of the Harding house is steeped in detail, with each piece of furniture intentionally selected to evoke a sense of grandeur and refined beauty—a polished veneer that masks the darkness they inadvertently invite into their home. “We wanted it to feel elegant” says Craig Lathrop, the creative head behind the production design of Nosferatu. “The cherry wood furniture, the delicate blue damask wallpaper, and the mechanical birds in a cage—they’re all meant to evoke a sense of wealth, but also a slightly unsettling quality.”

The guest bedroom, where Ellen Hutter (Lily-Rose Depp) languishes in her seizures, is both hauntingly beautiful and edgy—luxurious, yet steeped in an ominous undercurrent that mirrors her fate.

Much of the Harding house was carefully researched and designed by Craig and Beatrice Brentnerová. The furniture, much of it sourced from auctions, captures the elegance of the era, yet the design is always mindful of the impending doom that haunts the characters. Craig mentions, “We designed a lot of the furniture, including pieces like the wooden flower stands and Jacquard-striped chairs. The details might seem like they belong in a well-to-do household, but there’s an undeniable darkness lurking in every room.”

The Hutter’s House

In contrast, Thomas (Nicholas Hoult) and Ellen Hutter’s home, while still modest, is filled with hopeful touches that speak to their desire to rise above their humble beginnings. Designed in the Biedermeier style but with a simpler execution, the furniture echoes their aspirations and sets the stage for a world teetering on the edge of a nightmare.

Craig shares, “The Hutter home’s furniture, from the embroidered table to the Jacquard stripes on the couch, reflects their longing for a life beyond their humble beginnings.” It is a house filled with hope but also a sense of dread, subtly foreshadowing the horrors that will soon engulf them.

How Art Influenced the Design of Nosferatu

As with many great works of gothic horror, art played an integral role in the world-building of Nosferatu.

Craig’s design sensibilities were deeply influenced by the Romanticism of the 19th century, where nature, isolation, and the sublime were at the forefront. The influence of Caspar David Friedrich, especially his painting The Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, is evident in scenes where Thomas Hutter heads out on his long journey to meet Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgard).

Alone on a hill, he gazes down upon the vast and inhospitable landscape. “Friedrich’s work helped us understand how to visually convey a sense of isolation,” Craig reflects. “It wasn’t just about what the characters saw, but about how they were dwarfed by the world around them.”

The influence of Whistler’s mastery of light and shadow also pervades the film. The looming, darkened corridors of Orlock’s castle evoke the same atmospheric tension that Whistler captured in his moody landscapes. “Light is as much a character in Nosferatu as any of the actors. It shapes the mood, the mystery, and the horror that unfolds within these spaces,” Craig adds.

Additionally, Goya’s haunting depictions of nightmarish figures were key in informing the look and feel of the crypt, where every shadow, every creaking floorboard, is charged with a sense of palpable terror. These artistic influences don’t merely decorate the sets—they imbue them with a deeper layer of psychological horror that leaves viewers with a sense of unease long after the film ends.

Join us in Part 2 where we go a little darker, to explore Orlok’s castle and coffin, the Monastery and rats! Take a look here >