I
Really Like Crimson Peak!
by
Kristin Battestella
Struggling
writer Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska) is quickly infatuated with Sir
Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) when the English baronet comes to
Buffalo seeking investment in his proposed clay mining machine from
Edith's wealthy father Carter (Jim Beaver). The elder Cushing is
skeptical of Sir Thomas and his stern older sister Lady Lucille
(Jessica Chastain), and Edith's childhood friend Dr. Alan McMichael
(Charlie Hunnam) also hopes to protect her from the Sharpes – even
after Edith marries Sir Thomas and moves to the dilapidated Allerdale
Hall. The Sharpe family estate is sinking into its clay making hopes,
turning the snow red and making for some suspicious bumps, creaks,
and groans in the night. The gifted Edith, however, can see the
ghostly inhabitants of the so called Crimson Peak, and the phantoms
help her unravel the mysterious secrets surrounding Thomas and
Lucille's gruesome family history...
A
Gothic Throwback
My
fellow horror enthusiasts know I had high anticipations for writer
and director Guillermo Del Toro's (Pan's Labyrinth) latest
film Crimson Peak for more than a year. Those horror aware
also know the genre is quite diverse, with welcoming room for an R
rated, sophisticated, Neo Victorian picture hearkening back to a
Gothic Hammer glory. Unfortunately, it seems 21st century audiences
are having trouble accepting Crimson Peak defined
as a Gothic romance – perhaps due to both our limited perception of
horror and a misrepresented modern romance genre. Today, romance
publishers and big box bookstores categorize to meet readers'
expectations of escapism and happy ever after endings, and that's
certainly well and good for lighthearted literature fans. If you are
looking for a tragic love story, however, you won't find such Bronte
bleak of old on the Harlequin shelf. Fortunately, Crimson
Peak embraces this dark
romanticism onscreen, filling
the void where studios like nuHammer have faltered. Is Del Toro the
new Bava ala The Whip and the Body?
Who is the next Corman with a star like Price and a source like Poe?
Television is catching on to the innate no cellphones and lack
of technological convenience scares in this kind of period horror,
where hours can be taken for the pot boiling macabre instead of the
jump scare gimmicks a minute now expected in today's formulaic horror
movies. Classic horror heavyweights like Alien or
Psycho know how to
provide crossover appeal alongside an escalating slow tingle – and
leave creepy memories long after the story ends. Have we forgotten
how to watch the simmering scares from fifty years ago? Poor
Guillermo has to repeatedly predicate that Crimson Peak is
a Gothic romance every time he talks about it, and the faster
audiences realize we need this kind of quality throwback horror the
better.
Crimson
Peak is spooky, sure, but that doesn't mean it will be a modern
by the numbers slasher – a relatively recent horror style compared
to the tawdry Victorian melodrama likewise found in Penny
Dreadful. Heck, an American
heiress with a hefty dowry is so Edith Wharton's The
Buccaneers it's downright Downton Abbey. The slightly
unreliable narrator bookends in Crimson Peak allow for dime
novel embellishment complete with a halo of light when the tall,
dark, and handsome stranger enters and a sweeping sunlight backdrop
for the first kiss of a whirlwind romance. Gasps over a shocking
waltz, a scandalous slap at a dinner party, somber siblings obviously
up to no good, a ridiculous “By the time you read this, I will be
gone...” letter – the soap opera framework in Crimson Peak is
not meant to be a surprise. If Crimson Peak was
supposed to be a terror a minute horror movie meeting current
expectations, the final half hour of perilous, slice and dice, house
mazes and pursuits would have happened much sooner, eliminating
everything before Edith crosses the threshold at Allerdale Hall.
Instead, most of the shock scenes and scary moments in Crimson
Peak were erroneously revealed
in the trailers (more on that later), and the spoon fed, sheep
viewing mentality of brainwashed American viewers blinds us from
Crimson Peak's pay
attention to detail requirements. Here murderous intentions, gory
deaths, period accessories, marital unease, discomforting familial
twists, and an increasing sense of household dread break the
accustomed. Crimson Peak is
set in 1901 – the real shock here is why anyone ever thought a
Victorian piece was going to be like a contemporary splatter-fest. I
don't expect millennials to love old Mexican horrors such as The
Witch's Mirror or The
Curse of the Crying Woman, but
my goodness, hasn't anybody seen a Vincent Price movie?!
Our
Heroines
Edith
Cushing herself reiterates her manuscript isn't a ghost story but a
story with ghosts in it. She balks at the idea of including a love
subplot just because she is female, would rather be a widow than a
spinster, and although she is an incredibly observant writer, Edith
is not exactly street smart when it comes to people. Mia Wasikowska
is delightfully wide eyed to open Crimson Peak, a Jo March
dreamer unfulfilled in her big house with servants, progressive
gaslight, and new automobiles. Edith knows nothing of love, ignores
her father's warnings, and stupidly falls for the first baronet who
bothers to read her story. She is
manipulated by the Sharpes from the start and is too swept up to care
when Thomas' love letter arrives. Granted, the character is an
audience avatar, as Edith herself doesn't realize she is backed into
the corner of a proverbial horror movie until the final act. Some
viewers may even perceive her as starting smart but becoming cliché
once she reaches Allerdale Hall. However, Crimson Peak
shows Edith gaining practical
experience for her literary license for the first time in her life.
We may have more clues about the situation then she does, but there
is an audience joy in seeing her piece together the spooky mystery
with some fantastic help and ghostly metaphors. It's no
coincidence that the star of Jane Eyre is
cast here in Crimson Peak, and
Wasikowska has both the period poise and ingenue naivete needed to
anchor all Edith's facets. Viewers may not have expected an
empowering female path of discovery in Crimson Peak, but Edith
blossoms from worrying about if her handwriting is too feminine to
taking matters into her own hands. She faces her phantom fears,
explores Allerdale Hale for her own revelations, takes charge in her
marital life, and defends herself when her new husband and
sister-in-law aren't the family she thought they would be. Brava!
Likewise,
the dark haired Jessica Chastain (The Help, Zero Dark Thirty)
is the delightfully Mrs. Danvers villain of Crimson Peak. Lucille
has spent most of her life in Allerdale Hall's attic, festering and
hording from childhood to adult, appreciating the looming bugs
in the manor and dressing like a dated matching décor to the
collapsing dwelling. Even Lucille's
pointy, medieval-esque cloak matches the spires of Allerdale Hall
when she is apart from it! Past abuses suggest she bore the
brunt of her father's wrath and had to remain strong in caring for
her ill mother – but unfortunately, Lucille has taken her stalwart
to extremes and she enjoys it. As the older sibling, she took
her brother under her ignoble wing, nurturing a warped maternal
instinct. Her calculated way of cooking, pouring tea, and serving
porridge with a scraping spoon has been wound up one too many
times a la Suspicion, and Lucille is one night away
from flinging the pots – or worse – if any Notorious keys
are out of her control. In
her eyes, she has witnessed, endured, and personally ensured
the family legacy enough times to be the lady of the house – and
maintains her sociopathic control by plucking the wings from
butterflies who come too close. Lucille has earned her title and
takes Crimson Peak with her via the hefty, binding red gown symbolic
of the blood she has shed for Allerdale Hall. We hurt the ones we
love the most, right? Insect ensigns, poisoning inside and out, and a
devouring hierarchy reflect Lucille's twisted idea of love, and this
is an impressive, commanding, in charge turn by Chastain. Lucille
objects to the blonde, young, and vibrant Edith, taking her innocent,
sisterly affection as a foreign threat to her domineering
establishment. This is her own trapped, repressed, playing house
little world – Lucille has everything to loose and will do anything
to keep her status quo. She may be lonely and wanting of love, but
when we finally see Lucille's room, her almost scientific collection,
and justified in her own mind do what must be done actions, it's a
scary, gut wrenching finale with no cheap jump shockers needed.
The
Gentlemen
In
retrospect, it's understandable that the predatory sexy crawl so
prominently displayed in the Crimson Peak trailers
was trimmed, as Sir Thomas Sharpe is not a strong male, but instead
sways like a child with whichever way the dominating women in his
life tell him to be. This is not Victorian Loki or a mischievous
master manipulator; Sir Thomas is a meek follower wearing a dreamy,
too good to be true facade as it suits his sister's plans. He
knowingly reads Edith's story and plays into her sweeping ideals –
foreshadowing a turnabout conflict and the heavy choices to be made
if he would but accept his part in this play. Thomas may be charming,
but his engineering dreams, stunted adolescence, and misplaced
loyalties keep him small and easily corrupted. He has been molded
like the very clay he is trying to harvest and his idyllic attempts
to improve Allerdale Hall only perpetuate his out of touch, leaving
him in his high up but still sinking workshop playing with symbolic
toy marionettes. His top hat is too big for him, borrowed and behind
the times. His sister has the house keys and rules the roost, and
he's okay with that routine – until Edith. Soon Thomas realizes
that his inventions may not save Allerdale Hall, he is deluded by the
price he pays to keep Crimson Peak, and now there could be a brighter
future elsewhere. He admires Edith's creativity and genuine put on
the page, however, when he shouts that she is sentimental, weak, and
knows nothing of life and real love, is he really angry at himself?
Yes, Thomas is sympathetic, but the explanation behind his character
arc doesn't make him any less culpable for his actions. He may
question, but backs down and does what he's told – clueless on how
to craft change. Despite the scene chewing in Crimson Peak,
Hiddleston is superb in using his eyes and
stolen glances to show Thomas' inner turmoil and emotional
spectrum – feelings the baronet
himself probably doesn't know how to express. Too late he
accepts his own accountability, maturing only after he realizes what
real love with Edith is like compared to the monstrous of Crimson
Peak. Ironically, audiences going into Crimson Peak with
starry eyes and Marvel comparisons may be missing Hiddleston's finely
layered and nuanced character discovery. I personally enjoy his
unrestricted, non-Disney/Marvel pushing the envelope serious more,
and unlike most modern actors, he looks delicious in period
garb. For Crimson Peak, his
Peter Cushing Force is strong, and I'd love to see Hiddleston be this
century's go to period horror star – or you know, a young Grand
Moff Tarkin in a Star Wars prequel!
I'm
less familiar with Sons of Anarchy star
Charlie Hunnam, but his accent and hairstyle feel too 21st
century out of place in Crimson Peak. Some
viewers may find Alan behaves too stupidly for supposedly being such
a smart doctor and feel the character wooden and superfluous all
together. However, rather than being the solid fourth corner of a
leading quartet, Dr. McMichael is fittingly reserved as a solid
supporting role and sounding board workhorse. Alan provides
exposition, information, or choice as needed to advance Edith's story
while serving as a one-sided, would be romantic antagonism as the
plot requires. Edith is not interested in the good doctor as anything
more than a friend – she is initially unaware he is back in Buffalo
and doesn't send him follow up letters from England – but the
virtuous blonde trying to be a hero trope must be present to counter
the dark and mysterious stranger nonetheless. In films of old we
could balk at such a stereotypical strong chinned insert, but rightly
motivated as he may be, Alan isn't always successful in his deeds,
making room for a few surprises and more gender reversal in Crimson
Peak. Likewise Jim Beaver
(Supernatural, Deadwood)
is superb as Crimson Peak's period
piece patriarch. With his staunch ideas on tough work versus easy
aristocracy and protecting his daughter's chances for a respectable
match – not a career with a typewriter – he's still living in the
last century. Unlike the Sharpes, however, Carter's motivations,
cautions, and affection are well placed with hard evidence and get
out of my town demands. Despite his gruff exterior and seemingly
harsh actions, everything Cushing does is in tenderness for his
daughter as an extension of his legacy. Women of this era were
controlled by the male nearest them, and Edith is supposed to stay
young and innocent and take care of him until he chooses, correct?
Beaver's final scene is wonderfully well done – gruesome,
suspenseful, immediately visceral, and most effective. Not to mention
the newfangled pen he gifts Edith comes in handy for more than just
literary pursuits!
A
Lavish Attempt
Crimson
Peak excels with its splendid
look, lush costumes, and freaky ghost effects with a score
both whimsical with possibility to start and ominous orchestral to
match the colorful Dickensian on acid design. Meant to represent
blood on the hands, manifestations of worse human horrors, and linger
as symbolic wallpaper rather than be a scary antagonist, the ghosts
of Crimson Peak mirror the
titular clay and sinking family home, struggling to crawl and
keep afloat as they woefully lend a hand. Early photography with
phantoms captured in the negative also parallels this unfinished
business while vintage typewriters, gramophones, round spectacles,
and dangerous elevators accent the turn of the century setting.
Opening and closing iris wipes marking each chapter hearken to the
early horror film making industry to come, too. While Edith is
adorned in flashy soon to be Edwardian designs, the Sharpes are
notably dressed in the previous generation's older Victorian fashions
to indicate how their living in the past has outlived any usefulness.
Lucille's dress is of dead leaves and moth motifs – a perpetually
bitter autumn with tattered, frayed trims compared to the sparkling
butterfly combs in Edith's hair. Part of the fun in watching Crimson
Peak is looking for the
butterflies in Edith's scenes, and I love the slightly cthulhu ring
on the ladies. Fittingly, the fancy frocks are stripped down
by the end of Crimson Peak – raw
nightgowns and simplicity reflect the film's color progression from a
golden patina to sinister blue, sickly green, and finally, a black
and white snowscape with shocks of red clay and blood spilled.
Whatever else audiences may think of Crimson Peak, the
visual achievements and stunning design of the fully built and
beautifully realized Allerdale Hall with all her nooks and crannies
are certainly deserving of technical recognition and awards. Yes, I
would live there!
Of
course, that's not to say that Crimson Peak isn't
without any flaws. The pacing is odd with perhaps too much of
the early, over the top but rushed period drama and a wavering
timeline. The Sharpes have been society entertaining for long enough
to be known and friendly to the McMichaels, implying they have
planned their groundwork carefully. However, in a century sans
internet, Carter Cushing's investigation happens way too fast.
Mercenary pinkertons, the new Google! Return passage to England is
largely skipped, but a map overlay like Indiana Jones or
a Demeter type ship
montage may have helped anchor the weeks in between what
appears to be a very fast funeral and wedding – a throwaway
sentence mentioning a supposedly respectful mourning wait doesn't say
enough. The duration at Allerdale Hall is also unclear, with Edith
left alone, ignored, and free to explore for what seems like days.
How long do the Sharpes' plans usually take? Medical ills or
miraculous heals come and go as needed, and travel in the snowstorm
is conveniently easy for one on foot or difficult for a carriage as
the plot requires. Again, maybe these time jumps are meant to be part
of the Victorian manuscript play within a play melodrama at work, and
a certain amount of rapid soap opera time can be forgiven. Though the
near two hour time is pleasing, some poor editing leaves important
backstory and family history unclear
and most likely left on the cutting room floor, and ironically, the
practical ghost effects alone look better than the CGI bells and
whistles they receive. Hopefully, we'll have plenty of deleted scenes
and making of treats on the video release! The over the top moments
here are enjoyable, too, but Crimson Peak can
be inadvertently humorous at times, compromising the slow burn
mystery and sinister brainwashing calculations with a false tame. A
dangerous mining machine is also shown injuring someone but becomes a
non-factor later, and if audiences are taking the ghosts at face
value rather than metaphorically, the specters can seem convenient or
even unnecessary. There's enough suspense when Edith finds evidence
on her own, and if one ghost can tell her to “Beware of Crimson
Peak,” then why can't the recently late ghosts with all the facts
do the same? Indeed, several layers, why fors, and character
biographies that should have remained to strengthen the somewhat thin
script with meaty dialogue for the on form cast instead seem
relegated to online content and companion literature. This annoying
supplemental trend is only made more frustrating when the
trailers, clips, and behind the scenes footage reveal glimpses of
those extra moments that didn't make it into the film.
But
Marketing Amiss
I
confess, Crimson Peak is
one of those rare films where I've started my review document before
seeing the picture, largely due to my thoughts on the sometimes
genius but mostly overkill and misfiring marketing campaign. Despite
my attempt to avoid spoilers, there was still too much “I see what
you did there” online promotion with crafty gifs and the sharing of
fan art on Crimson
Peak's official
instagram and tumblr media. Twitter question and answer hashtags with
cast and crew repeated amid an infinite
number of five minute or less interviews and press days where every
reporter asked the same trite sound bite questions. For those times
when watching Hiddleston interviews is like a potato chip and you
can't watch just one, it was a surprisingly obvious but shrewd move
to play the Crimson
Peak ads
on Youtube before this related content. Along with all the television
spots and billboards, there are Crimson
Peak
books, calendars, perfumes, and even jewelry on the Home Shopping
Network. These efforts, however, generally cater to young viewers
expecting cheap horror slashers and jump scare frights, belying that
Crimson Peak is
a Gothic romance more about the dread and macabre of old. Naturally,
this audience was miffed when Crimson
Peak deviated
from the anticipated formula presented in the trailers, and the
erroneous mass appeal horror marketing backfired with a fifty percent
box office fall in the second release week because movie goers told
their friends that they were promised one film but were given
something else instead. Unfortunately, the millennial viewing public
should also be Hello Mcflyied for tweeting spoilers as they happened
on opening night – I'd hate to see The
Sixth Sense released
today! If Crimson
Peak had
half as many clips and dropped either the twitter or tumblr teasing
but kept the Crimson Peak Awaits online game, enough mystery as to
what it actually contained within would have lured just as well as
the marketing deception. Then, the campaign becomes an interactive
discovery with out of context clues and photos that don't give away
all of Crimson Peak's
secrets
– or abundant spoon fed misinformation – and if you want more,
why, here's the film itself!
Do
See!
Crimson
Peak
is how Tim Burton's Dark
Shadows should
have been, but sadly, because of the poor marketing and unjustified
but underwhelming audience return, the potential for more old school
horror films like Crimson
Peak may
have been irrevocably squashed. As
to my first Wednesday morning cinema experience, there were only a
few other people attending. There were more on a second Monday
afternoon, but really, the cell phone lights going off and being
checked every five minutes? Let it go. Despite a ridiculous twenty
minutes of trailers eating into the actual movie time, some such as
Star Wars, Victor
Frankenstein, and
Krampus are
cinema-going worthy.
Spoilers, mismarketing, and the contemporary inability to go into a
picture cold aside, Crimson
Peak has
more than enough revelations locked up in its attic to enjoy – and
more than once for full effect. There is definitely
an overlooked audience for this kind of Phantom
of the Opera meets
Jane Eyre not
Saw film
to whom the industry should be happy to cater. I want to see Crimson Peak again
and can't wait to have it on video if only to do a drinking game
every time someone says “Cushing.” Sure, viewers may be
disappointed that the paranormal in Crimson
Peak is not paramount and
often predictable. Fortunately, it's easy to get over any period
piece viewing problems or uneven editing flaws thanks to a
refreshingly adult approach, oh no she didn't melodrama, and splendid
gasp inducing macabre carried by the haunting visuals and spirited ye
olde performances.
