F.W. Murnau, played by John Malkovich, strikes a nasty deal with a blood-sucking monster, played by Willem Dafoe. Telling others on the set that Max Schrek is a peculiar character actor who always appears in makeup and costume and never gets out of character, Malkovich provides the perfect cover for the vampire’s hungry infiltration. Murnau thus achieves his goal of capturing the perfect performance and preserving it forever on film, while “Schrek” gets what he wants: victims. In their pursuit of their desires, however, Murnau and “Schrek” get more and more unhinged.

Malkovich and Dafoe carry this film, both of their intense, stylized performances creating a binary star of obsession. Malkovich tamps down his usual twitchy weirdness in order to play Murnau as a nit-picking control freak who manipulates his actors like puppets. While Malkovich’s Murnau is physically restrained, possessed of a certain inhuman detachment, Dafoe’s “Schrek” is expressive, almost flamboyant in his sneezing, sniffing, cowering, truckling, nail sharpening and other bestial mannerisms. I wouldn’t say that Dafoe hams it up or overdoes it, merely that his “Schrek” fidgets in constant motion, as if he’s made out of swarming bugs, or as if he can barely master his desire to eat something.  Both Murnau and “Schrek” complement each other because they both display the same hunger for humanity, the same life-draining impulse, merely manifested in different ways.

Moody, chiaroscuro set design and lighting pays homage to the deep shadows of the original Nosferatu, while creating new layers of creeping dread. A toned-down palette, mostly greys and some heavily saturated greens and browns, and a spare score [mostly in the form of music that would be playing as Nosferatu is filmed] balance out the energetic performances of the stars. Mordant, deadpan humor and a strong absurdist streak make Shadow of the Vampire both amusing and thought-provoking.