I've been mixed on Guillermo del Toro's work before, finding it difficult to reconcile his harsh and brutal scenes and characters with his visual whimsy and romantic themes. I still don't think they work that well together, but if you're going for a twisted Gothic romance...well, there's an avenue.
Edith Cushing has no love for aristocracy, until a young baronet grows close to her and comforts her after her father's brutal death. He takes her to his crumbling home of Allerdale Hall, an edifice built on pits of soft red clay that weep through the walls like blood. Edith sees ghosts—always has—, and her husband and his sister aren't to be trusted.
Crimson Peak feels tonally like a spiritual adaptation of the literary Dracula mixed with the film style of Hammer Horror and Bram Stoker's Dracula...with heavy elements of Daphne du Maurier/Alfred Hitchcock's Rebecca. It's a visually stunning gothic film that unfolds a mystery and jumps between a prisoner in a manor and the people at home trying to help, which was the appealing structure and dynamic of the best parts of Dracula, but the story itself is of a naive young woman marrying into an intimidating household with a fishy husband and a woman in black who resents every fiber of her being, much like Rebecca. This could make it feel derivative, but it also lends the film a compelling authenticity as a supernatural thriller. The film blends horror and fairy tale like all of del Toro's work, with Allerdale Hall being a fascinating metaphorical setpiece. A drafty, decaying manor that bleeds red clay and houses ghosts of the same color is very theatrical and eerie...but like many things, it's a bit on the nose.
It's never difficult to tell where the film is going, and the information we're given seems a bit too liberal or heavy-handed. It's hard to argue there are twists because the revelations feel broadcast pretty clearly. In fact, the only times the film doesn't follow expectations, it's actually a sad lack of payoff on things that feel set up, like the camera lingering on a weapon that isn't used or the plot point of the manor sinking into the earth never culminating in a grand poetic collapse. The film has tons of style and some interesting ideas but it's never delicate enough to make the ideas feel meaningful. The way the film discusses love also feels misguided, with the story perhaps lending a bit too much sentimentality toward the elements of abuse and perversion that get framed as love gone wrong. They're condemned, but not really invalidated as explicitly as I thought they should be.
The acting was alright. Unlike in Alice, Mia Wasikowska was given license to emote, which was nice, and the villains were compelling too.
This is a really gripping and scary gothic film, but it doesn't have much elegance in its talking points.
Skillfully compelling Gothic atmosphere without enough subtlety to live up to the substance it proposes.
I've been mixed on Guillermo del Toro's work before, finding it difficult to reconcile his harsh and brutal scenes and characters with his visual whimsy and romantic themes. I still don't think they work that well together, but if you're going for a twisted Gothic romance...well, there's an avenue.
Edith Cushing has no love for aristocracy, until a young baronet grows close to her and comforts her after her father's brutal death. He takes her to his crumbling home of Allerdale Hall, an edifice built on pits of soft red clay that weep through the walls like blood. Edith sees ghosts—always has—, and her husband and his sister aren't to be trusted.
Crimson Peak feels tonally like a spiritual adaptation of the literary Dracula mixed with the film style of Hammer Horror and Bram Stoker's Dracula...with heavy elements of Daphne du Maurier/Alfred Hitchcock's Rebecca. It's a visually stunning gothic film that unfolds a mystery and jumps between a prisoner in a manor and the people at home trying to help, which was the appealing structure and dynamic of the best parts of Dracula, but the story itself is of a naive young woman marrying into an intimidating household with a fishy husband and a woman in black who resents every fiber of her being, much like Rebecca. This could make it feel derivative, but it also lends the film a compelling authenticity as a supernatural thriller. The film blends horror and fairy tale like all of del Toro's work, with Allerdale Hall being a fascinating metaphorical setpiece. A drafty, decaying manor that bleeds red clay and houses ghosts of the same color is very theatrical and eerie...but like many things, it's a bit on the nose.
It's never difficult to tell where the film is going, and the information we're given seems a bit too liberal or heavy-handed. It's hard to argue there are twists because the revelations feel broadcast pretty clearly. In fact, the only times the film doesn't follow expectations, it's actually a sad lack of payoff on things that feel set up, like the camera lingering on a weapon that isn't used or the plot point of the manor sinking into the earth never culminating in a grand poetic collapse. The film has tons of style and some interesting ideas but it's never delicate enough to make the ideas feel meaningful. The way the film discusses love also feels misguided, with the story perhaps lending a bit too much sentimentality toward the elements of abuse and perversion that get framed as love gone wrong. They're condemned, but not really invalidated as explicitly as I thought they should be.
The acting was alright. Unlike in Alice, Mia Wasikowska was given license to emote, which was nice, and the villains were compelling too.
This is a really gripping and scary gothic film, but it doesn't have much elegance in its talking points.