The first thing you should know about Crimson Peak is that it's not a scary movie. It's a horror picture. More than that, it's a period piece Gothic romance. So if you're going to the movies this Halloween looking for shrieks and giggles, you are going to be severely disappointed. If, however, you are going to be reminded of the potential beauty in haunted house films, to revel in the glory of expert filmmaking, or to lose yourself in a macabre fantasy of passion and evil, you can do no better than Guillermo del Toro's latest vision.
From its shockingly white opening image, this film sets itself apart as an atmospheric venture not unlike this summer's Mad Max: Fury Road. We are presented then, in increasingly vibrant strokes, with an immaculately designed period piece shimmering with intricate details and daring lighting. Not a moment passes by onscreen in which the nightmarish hues don't burn themselves into your eyes, forcing you to watch the horror unfold. Of course, the real spectacle here is the house itself, a masterwork of architecture and special effects, riddled with carvings and tapestries, and oozing sanguineous clay. The house is alive, shifting and swaying, "breathing" and groaning, and in almost every scene the red mud that gave the property its name ekes out from under floorboards and behind brick walls. It's a surprisingly eerie special effect, something I would have expected (less tastefully) from a Burton film.
I could continue to praise the production design, but I think you get the idea. The other aspects of the film are all solid, though nothing particularly noteworthy. It's a very familiar story, with simple and conventional plot devices that ultimately lead to an unsurprising and totally satisfying ending. I might have wished that del Toro could have spiced up the drama or the supernatural elements, but there's a lot to be said for balancing a tried-and-true plot with a daring aesthetic. The dialogue is great, and the plot moves along at a brisk pace with enough evenly-paced thrills to keep things effectively spooky.
Jessica Chastain is far and away the crowning jewel of the film. Her cruel gaze and calculating restraint is disturbing from the outset, and frankly her dresses steal every damn scene. As ravishing as she is haunting, Chastain injects her character with seething malice so delicious I was ready to cheer for her in the film's climax. Tom Hiddleston parries her every move with equally calculating energy, though his burns the sweeter. His dynamic turn (and beauty) makes the film's climax far more satisfying, as he and Chastain wholly give themselves over to their perfect Gothic sensibilities. Mia Wasikowska is less satisfying than the other two, though she does work hard for her starring role. It's hard to watch the mesermizing subtleties of Hiddleston and Chastain, and then want to pay attention to Wasikowska's constantly pained expression as she wanders the evil house. I suppose, given her character's profound misfortune, I shouldn't fault her for that, but it just doesn't make for an interesting character. And her designer didn't help, placing her in a shapeless pale nightgown for most of the film and leaving her long stringy blond hair to fly around her puffy shoulders. Does it work to make our hero appear a floating white cloud? Yes. But the ghosts cut a more imposing figure on screen, which is probably not a good thing.
Speaking of the ghosts, I was a little put off by some of the CGI. I mean, thank heaven the ghosts were as stylized as the rest of the film, but perhaps a bit more variation would have sufficed. Neon-red skeletons floating out of pools of clay are creepy, sure, but only when you see them once or twice. After the sixth time, it's a bit less effective. Rather, let's go back to the first scene, where we see an ebony ghost, desiccated and smoking, palpably haunting the little girl's sleep. Much more enticing for me than a parade of bright phantoms floating in the air and pointing to various parts of the house.
Then again, the jump-scares of the ghosts only last a brief time, and it is not long before the real terror of the film introduces itself. Sure, the horror comes from spousal lies, devious plans, and murderous motives, but the terror is far different than I expected. The ghostly pop-outs are creepy, but cannot hold a candle to the surprising brutality that commands the film from the halfway point on. The physical violence, all captured on the screen, is often so surprising and vicious I had to close my eyes more than once. And the blood that ends up spilled is obviously the darker side of the "Crimson Peak" imagery.
It's "The Fall of the House of Usher" meets The Haunting, with a Tim Burton-level flair and a rock-solid aesthetic vision. Can you beat it? Hell no. Chastain's performance during the climax is easily the most terrifying thing I've seen in months. Del Toro's attention to detail and mastery of the genre is unparalleled. I lost myself to this nightmare, and I would gladly do it again.
IMDb: Crimson Peak
No comments:
Post a Comment