Crimson Peak

Guillermo Del Toro’s latest film is an unashamedly lurid Gothic horror following the fortunes and misfortunes of Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), an aspiring New York novelist. When English Baronet and entrepreneur Sir Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) approaches her father (Jim Beaver) with a business proposition, her life is suddenly redirected and Edith soon finds herself married to Sir Thomas and moving in to his ancestral estate, Allerdale Hall in Cumbria. The newlyweds share the house with Thomas’s possessive and hostile sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain). While the domestic triangle is hardly Edith’s idea of married bliss, the real problems emerge when it seems that the unlikely trio are not alone in the ancient, creaking mansion and Edith receives a number of unnerving visitations from its previous incumbents.

There is a great deal to like in Crimson Peak. Much has been said about the design of the film and it is true that it looks breathtakingly beautiful. Between the glorious cinematography, bravura set pieces, gorgeous costumes, intricately constructed sets, skilful editing, wonderful direction, enchanting score, and elegant props this is a film that has been designed to within an inch of its afterlife, with spellbinding results. From the glorious scene in which Edith and Thomas conduct a perfect waltz while holding and maintaining a lit candle to the fact that the locals actually have Cumbrian accents, it is clear that Del Toro has paid painstaking attention to every detail of his picture. The result is something truly intoxicating and it is undeniably easy to be swept up in the entirely tangible world that he and his crew have created.

While it is a world as idiosyncratic as any Del Toro has previously produced, it is also one that wears its influences very much on its sleeve. There are shots reminiscent of the creeping shadows of Nosferatu and Lucille is part Miss Havisham, part-Mrs. Danvers and part the witches from Suspiria. Allerdale Hall is as ominous as Rebecca’s Manderley or The Haunting’s Hill House. The ghost of Edith’s mother bears more than a striking resemblance to The Woman in Black, while the wind howls through the corridors and chimneys like the spectral presence in Whistle and I’ll Come to You. The Gothic world born out of this is an all-consuming universe of fear and dread, and the constant preoccupation with the symbolism of and relationship between sex and death is as pointed as any of the film’s literary and cinematic precursors.

 

The performances are well informed by the world around them and all of the main cast pitch their material perfectly. Mia Wasikowska is thoroughly engaging in the main role. The scene where Edith halts Alan from investigating the body of her father in the morgue is heartfelt and painful to watch, while her straightforward and feisty persona throughout makes her an easy character for a modern audience to empathise with. Jessica Chastain’s performance is unlike anything she has produced thus far and shows that there is a strong potential for villainy in her repertoire. Her Lucille is quietly intimidating with the capacity for horrific violence, and yet her insecurity and desperation is clear in scenes where her relationship with her brother is threatened. On the surface, Tom Hiddleston is playing it safe with another charming but sinister English gentleman, but there is much fragility in his character and a dependency on the women in his life that is very refreshing. Charlie Hunnam’s Alan is an amiable side character reminiscent of the Jonathan Harker/Hammer hero archetype but his character is just as likely to require rescue as the traditional damsel in distress.

Indeed, Crimson Peak is unlike a lot of Hollywood films in that its storytelling is more akin to that of the Spanish-language films Del Toro has made in the past, and while the lavish and lurid visual and narrative style is unapologetically old-fashioned (like a silent melodrama or a Hammer horror), there are also a number of boldly progressive choices in terms of characters and plot. As such, many critics have suggested that Crimson Peak is in the same league as Del Toro’s previous masterpieces The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth and there are certainly a few self-conscious nods from the director himself, as well as a number of similar themes and motifs. And yet, for its many accomplishments and sumptuous spectacle, there is something lacking in this film that makes it more masterful than masterpiece.

While it is very entertaining and as lusciously designed as anything Del Toro has previously produced, the emotional impact of the material is not as potent as in his best films. There is no shot to match the poignancy of the opening and closing image of Mercedes cradling Ofelia in the blue night of the labyrinth to the film’s mournful lullaby, nor is there a moment in which the ghost of Santi stands face to face with Carlos and is no longer seen as a threat. Unlike either of these films, the protagonist is not a child, which is where Del Toro seems to have been on his strongest ground in the past. As a result, the innocence of the ghoulish proceedings is lost and the film seems at times to be in a rush to find answers rather than to drink in the emotion and atmosphere of a scene, leading to a pace that is sometimes too rigorous for its own good. The dialogue is also surprisingly weak for a Del Toro script, with some lines seeming indulgent, others unnecessary, and others teetering between the overripe and the forgettable.

Yet, it cannot be denied that the film is silky, seductive and sublime and there are many ways in which it is an extraordinary achievement. This is a masterful film from a master filmmaker, just perhaps not quite the masterpiece some were hoping for. Crimson Peak has proven to be a marmite film with audiences and critics so far, but if it finds the right viewer, it is certain to fester and fetter away in the mind long after the end credits have crawled across the screen.

Crimson Peak will be showing at Broadway Cinema until Thursday 13 November 2015.

Crimson Peak website