Denver’s Quarkestra performed an electrifying live score for F.W. Murnau’s 1922 horror classic in front of a rowdy crowd at the Landmark Mayan Theatre.

When was the last time you went to a completely sold-out movie? And what about one that’s more than 100 years old? It doesn’t happen all that often in most cities, but Denver isn’t most cities.

On October 16 at Denver’s Landmark Mayan Theatre, I joined a line that stretched past the Walgreens next door and into the parking lot as more than 100 people eagerly waited in line to see Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror with a live score from the local Quarkestra Orchestra.

Though the event wasn’t set to start for another 30 minutes at 7 p.m., the vibe outside the venue was electric. Guests arrived dressed as vampires, including the check-in attendant, who wore a full Count Orlok mask and black robe, establishing the evening’s rowdy vibe from the start.

Inside, it was pandemonium: concession and bar lines snaked through the lobby, the chatter was nonstop and the buzz was infectious. That energy carried into the show itself, even after a 25-minute delay to give folks time to grab drinks and snacks. Normally, a late start would irritate me, but the atmosphere inside the theater was too fun to care.

While waiting, I struck up conversations with fans who had been following Quarkestra for years, catching their performances of Phantom of the Opera, Metropolis, Nosferatu and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, often at the Mayan. Though fans of the group quibbled about which flick had the best score, everyone agreed that this is one of Denver’s hidden cultural treasures.

What the Quark?

Quarkestra, a Denver-based silent film orchestra, is known for writing original scores that they tailor to each screening, adjusting on the fly to audience reactions and the on-screen action. This means no two performances are ever exactly the same.

Their arsenal includes not only guitars, drums, keyboards and trumpets but also instruments like the therevox, harmonium, waterphone and even live Foley art. For Nosferatu, the four-piece band was led by Christine Palmer (composer, trumpet, keyboards, vocals, harmonium), joined by Dan Nusz (drums), Jimmy Jones (guitar) and Will Niemeier (Foley art, vocals, therevox, concertina).

The Quarkestra Orchestra. | Photo courtesy of @shanedavis_photography

Palmer opened the evening with a short introduction, offering a bit of history about Murnau’s 1922 masterpiece, a film famously made without Bram Stoker’s permission, and then introduced her bandmates. What followed was a 90-minute immersion into cinema and sound.

Musical madness

Watching Nosferatu on the big screen was a revelation. While the film shows its age compared to later silent classics like Phantom of the Opera, its imagery remains iconic.

From the long shadows to Orlok’s claw-like hands and the unforgettable final sacrifice sequence, it is a visual feast and a truly impressive filmmaking feat from over a century ago. The five-act structure gives it a Shakespearean heft, and Quarkestra’s score elevated the experience, sustaining momentum in moments that might otherwise drag at home.

This performance relied heavily on Foley work, which included horse hooves, laughter and ambient sounds that added texture and life to the streets of the fictional German town of Wisborg, where the film is set.

The score itself shifted seamlessly between moods, heightening the film’s comic beats and plunging into eerie, trumpet-led dread when Orlok loomed largest. Two original songs with vocals were woven in. While I wasn’t entirely convinced the singing was necessary, the musicianship throughout was stellar.

The audience, meanwhile, treated the screening like an event. There was cheering, loud laughter and the sense that if someone had booed Nosferatu, nobody would have minded. It felt communal, like we were all in on something special.

Show on the road

This performance kicked off Quarkestra’s fall tour, which will bring Nosferatu and Phantom to cities across the Midwest before returning to the Mayan on October 30 for an encore screening of Nosferatu.

After seeing their Phantom twice in September and now this, I’m already tempted to go back for round two. Each show is unique, each score is slightly different, and each audience brings its own distinct energy to the screenings, making Quarkestra events highly repeatable.

Quarkestra has carved out something rare: a cultural event that’s equal parts concert, film screening and communal party. Their live scores reanimate silent film, making 100-year-old cinema feel visceral and alive.

As many in the media bemoan the death of movie theaters, Quarkestra’s experiential performances suggest a promising path forward: Make cinema feel like an event, and people will line up in costumes and high spirits, even on a chilly Thursday night.

When Quarkestra’s Nosferatu rises again at the Mayan on October 30, expect another sold-out crowd ready to turn a century-old film into one of Denver’s liveliest nights at the movies.