Crimson Peak (2015)

★★★★

Crimson Peak PosterDirector: Guillermo del Toro

Release Date: October 16th, 2015 (UK & US)

Genre: Drama; Fantasy; Horror

Starring: Mia Wasikowska, Tom Hiddleston, Jessica Chastain

The fact that Guillermo del Toro’s latest offering is a carnival of visual ebullience probably won’t come as a shock to anybody out there. A 19th century Gothic nightmare with lots of frothy verbiage, every last word enunciated to the nth degree, Crimson Peak delivers in most of the areas we would expect but not all of the areas we would like. Granted, this is not a horror movie nor does it try to be anything of the sort, but its fleeting moments of fright never quite amount to the haunted atmosphere del Toro covets. The narrative also takes some time to explode into life, eventually doing so with menace. At least until then we have a bedazzling aesthetic to keep us company.

Mia Wasikowska plays Edith Cushing, a young woman who seeks to carve her own way in the world without relying on her father’s (Jim Beaver) wealth. She writes (stories with ghosts, not ghost stories), though Edith’s professional hopes are initially dashed under the guise of superfluous reasoning when a superior decries her “feminine handwriting” and the lack of romance in her tale. Crafty and stubborn, she swaps pen strokes for typing but remains steadfast on narrative content. Matthew Robbins co-wrote the film with del Toro and, in Edith, the pair have concocted a female character whose determination to evade tradition is at odds with the prevailing social structure.

She meets Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) when the latter shows up looking for funds to support his clay processing invention, and the duo fall in love. From dad to would-be muse Dr. Alan McMichael (Charlie Hunnam), everybody is wary of Thomas’ intentions: “There’s something about him that I don’t like”. Everybody except Edith, who really should have taken the hint upon seeing Thomas converse with his mischievous sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain) in the shadow beneath a large, looming tree.

Crimson Peak’s technical prowess is there for all to see, its rich texture and engrossing visuality arguably on a par with del Toro’s masterpiece Pan’s Labyrinth. But it lacks that film’s beating heart, perhaps because it is tougher to empathise with Edith here than it was Ofelia there. Pinpointing exactly why the Edith’s plight doesn’t translate as well is difficult; Wasikowska is perfectly fine in the role and her character is not disagreeably construed. It is true that her words are often quite gushy, certainly more so than those spoken by Lucille, and at best on a par with Thomas’ dialogue.

The film isn’t excessively melodramatic but its swirling air of grandiosity can hinder the credibility of characters’ actions — from where, for instance, is Edith’s insurmountable trust in Thomas born? To align grand romantic gestures and sap-filled exchanges with Gothic fiction would be a fair assessment, though I’d argue the genre itself is in that case flawed. Or, at the very least, the aforementioned traits don’t meet the screen with enough grounded authenticity in Crimson Peak, and definitely don’t fit a character who is trying to break free from cultural the norm.

Edith’s mother appears in ghost form, an apparition cut from the same ocular cloth as the spectre in another Jessica Chastain outing, Mama. Chastain has more to sink her teeth into here; as Lucille she is very mysterious, her movements icy and her stare searing. She often dawns extravagant gowns but unlike the bright, undiluted garments worn by her sister-in-law, Lucille’s attire often reflects her dark interior (deep rose-coloured and sharply defined). Her undulating poise sets a tone of torment and, as it transpires, Chastain is a terrific passive-aggressive tormentor. But Lucille is also on the verge of mental collapse — her composure, fake, could come unstuck at any moment.

Tom Hiddleston is also very good, though his role commands a different shade of mystery. He must be both a schemer and a sympathiser, and the actor finds the correct balance between the two. You feel his conflicted plight, yet you still can’t fully trust his crow-esque demeanour. In a sense the film is crying out for more interactions between the siblings, especially during its less compelling first half. A word too for Burn Gorman who is superbly cast as a sly detective of sorts, slinking around in the much the same vein as Metropolis’ Thin Man.

At times del Toro’s film is exceptionally violent. One bathroom-set murder harkens back to Casino Royale’s pre-title brawl, only this one is much blunter and probably much bloodier too. It is part of an effervescent production design that somehow straddles the line between realistic and dreamlike: marvellously crafted sets, eye-catching costumes, piercing sounds (just wait for Lucille’s ceramic-screeching monologue).

Enshrouded in a bleak snowy mist, Allerdale Hall — the mansion that hosts proceedings — could pass for a miniature Voldemort-led Hogwarts. Dan Laustsen’s camera swoops around torn halls and through once-noble doorways as if flaunting the Titanic. When it comes to housing, del Toro is decorative master and he incites every moan, groan, and grumble from Allerdale Hall as possible. Blood red clay seeps from floorboards and bleeds down the walls in Evil Dead II fashion; it’s as if the building is literally sinking into hell.

Crimson Peak benefits from the process of time, with each passing second coaxing greater momentum and a rise in intrigue level, until the film reaches its barnstormingly gory finale. But it also benefits from boasting a cast who collectively prescribe to the mood of the piece, and a director who knows this genre — his genre — better than most.

Crimson Peak - Tom Hiddleston & Mia Wasikowska

Images credit: IMP Awards, Collider

Images copyright (©): Universal Pictures

Evil Dead II (1987)

★★★★

Director: Sam Raimi

Release Date: March 13th, 1987 (US); June 26th, 1987 (UK)

Genre: Comedy; Horror

Starring: Bruce Campbell, Sarah Berry, Dan Hicks, Kassie DePaiva

The second instalment of Sam Raimi’s highly regarded Evil Dead franchise, Evil Dead II (or Evil Dead II: Dead By Dawn to be precise) takes a slightly different route as far as tone goes to that unearthed in Evil Dead. Here, Raimi chooses to essentially recreate the original and utilise the film as a comical nod to horror in general. With a shortage of laughs never in question and Bruce Campbell at the helm once again, Evil Dead II ticks all of the classic horror boxes in a knowing way. Unfortunately, this shift of focus to comedy shreds a great of the scare-factor away that the original provided so well, meaning the film succeeds as an amusing satire, but fails to deliver as a scary horror. Luckily, a scary horror is not what it is meant to be.

Evil Dead II begins in a similar vein to its predecessor, as Ash Williams (Bruce Campbell) travels with his girlfriend Linda to an old cabin in the woods. Soon after they arrive (that is, very soon after) Ash and his girlfriend are attacked by an evil spirit resulting in the death of Linda and Ash becoming partially possessed. Meanwhile, the daughter of the cabin owners, Annie Knowby, is also on her way to the forest retreat alongside her boyfriend and father’s associate Professor Ed Getley. The duo come across southern Jake and his partner Bobby Joe, who join them on their journey to impending madness and gore.

Much of what occurs on-screen during Evil Dead II is designed almost as a parody of horror, and is in place simply to make the audience laugh. From the outset Raimi puts his characters through the everyday (or, more suitably, every-night) rigours of horror: we see a spooky cabin in a dense forest; the demise of a loved one; a suspect bridge (the destruction of which would leave those who have crossed-over in isolation); a dark cellar; Gothic books with ancient text; and all of that makes up the opening half hour. When the focus is centred on these self-acknowledging elements the film works, and works effectively.

Not only is the setting clichéd and the set-pieces part of horror lore, so too are the characters, each of whom boast individual qualities. The heroic protagonist, the charming damsel-in-distress, the goofy idiot and his self-centred partner — they are all present. Evil Dead II‘s obvious satirical drive and the fact that it does not take itself seriously are the two proponents which make the comedy aspect of the film a resounding success. Raimi knows he is pandering to an aware audience, thus, when the additional ancient passages which must be recited to disperse the evil spirits are thrown into the unwelcoming cellar, or when a hapless Bobby Joe scampers out into the demon-infested forest without so much as a moment of rationalisation, a simultaneous chuckle can be heard from both the filmmaker and the audience — communally, we all get it.

Without a doubt, Evil Dead II trumps its precursor as far as comedy goes, but it is a far cry from its predecessor in terms of actual horror. As each scenario becomes increasingly humour-filled and events display the usual scary movie elements, the film quickly loses any lingering tension which would typically be present. Unlike The Evil Dead — which survived and made its name by way of its relentless atmosphere that ranged from discreetly eerie to outright frightening — Evil Dead II struggles to strike up any semblance of an underlying chilling tone. The overarching comedy out-muscles any potential horror during scenes, generating laughter where there would normally be scares. With that being said, the film is not trying to be scary. On the odd occasion that it does reach for a proverbial jump-scare, it does so because those scares have become a staple of horror.

Bruce Campbell’s Ash is as equally at home in amongst the comical nature of Evil Dead II as he was alongside the spookiness of Evil Dead. In fact, his outlandish antics and hilarious facial expressions are even more welcome this time around as they offer more to the film and, in unison with the satire, provide genuine laughs. The duel Ash is involved in early on with his possessed hand delivers outrageous merriment, the resonance of which holds up throughout the film. The supporting cast, on the other hand, do not offer as much comedy — at least not intentionally. Much of their involvement consists of loud screeching and accentuated vowels. Ash’s antics make up the trunk of the film, while the remaining cast are simply the supporting branches. A few snapped twigs have little effect on the strength of a tree, right?

With low production values and ridiculous-looking gore, Evil Dead II sets a comical tone from the get-go as it knowingly places clichéd horror characters in a classic scary setting and through common frightful situations. The shift in focus from terror to comedy negates any usual scares and turns them into echoes of laughter. Often, when a horror film of any ilk is not at all scary, something is not quite right.

However in the case of Evil Dead II, it could not be more right.