Tom Hiddleston as the "tall dark stranger" - Thomas Sharpe
Mia Wasikowska as the "innocent girl" - Edithn Cushing
Jessica Chastain as the "villain and sister" - Lucille Sharpe
My reviews always contain spoilers. So beware!
Crimson Peak is a gothic romance. It is a return to a less twisted "twist" on a classic genre, and yet it works some modern ideas into the mix without spoiling the classic feel.
The costumes are lavish and drool-worthy, the set is mysterious, dark, creepy, and beautiful, the actors gorgeous and nuanced in their performances. The house seems to ooze blood, which is actually the red clay the house is built upon and is slowly sinking into.
Much in the story is metaphorical. I'm sure I didn't catch it all, and some of what I didn't catch was mentioned by the actors in interviews, which helped me to flesh out a movie that really needs to be seen twice. For instance, there are butterflies and moths in all of the wallpaper and furniture (and also literally everywhere as actual bugs). These represent Edith, in all her innocent, butterfly glory and Lucille, in her sedentary, moth-y darkness.
But perhaps more profoundly, the house is sinking slowly into the red clay much like the Sharpe siblings, Thomas and Lucille, are sinking slowly into a life of murder as Thomas utilizes his persona as a tall dark stranger to make rich and unattached girls fall in love with him. Once at Crimson Peak, and once they've signed over their fortunes, the siblings kill the girls and use the money to help prop up their literally sinking lives.
So huge spoiler: the siblings have an incestuous love. Yeah, you read that right. I have never come across that before in a film, but I can't say I didn't see it coming. There was some big dark secret. This fit the bill, and it made sense based on their very exclusive sort of life, both abandoned by parents, living alone together without other companionship, covering shared dark secrets, such as murder. I could be tempted to write it off as a story centered more on the shock value of that discovery than one of true character, but I think that would be short-sighted. Its inclusion is not for shock value. It's an important and integral part of a very dark tale.
Lucille especially is a part of the house. Her costumes were made to reflect it. She seems to come from walls. She is wholly connected with the house. It represents her life, everything she has - Thomas, their love born from loneliness, her domain. It's her comfort zone. It's her kingdom. Thomas, on the other hand, is very slightly less connected. He wants to serve his sister, and he wants to stay in his comfort zone, but much to his misfortune he truly falls in love with Edith, the young, innocent archetype of gothic romances. When push comes to shove, he does what he can to save Edith - everything short of killing his sister immediately, which comes to grief. I think the really facinating thing about this movie is Thomas Sharpe - how he falls in love with two things, with his life with his sister, the house, the comfort zone of what's always been, and with Edith, the future, and the bright, clean world she carries around her like a bubble.
So the ending is this: Thomas is ordered to kill Edith's secondary suitor, Alan, a Sam Gamgee kind of soul, by Lucille. Thomas, we learn, hasn't actually killed any of the women he lured into the sibling's deceit, it was Lucille, who also killed their mother, I think. Lucille also killed Edith's father, side note, so she was free to marry Thomas. Thomas, in an electrifying scene, has Alan, who is a doctor, tell him where to stab him so he will survive. Edith is made to sign away her fortune by Lucille while Thomas secretly settles Alan in the cellar. Edith wounds Lucille and escapes her, and would have hurt Thomas too except that he convinces her that he does indeed love her and tells her he didn't kill Alan. Thomas confronts Lucille in her bedroom and burns the papers that Lucille made Edith sign to give them her fortune. Lucille stabs Thomas in the face, and then Jessica Chastian does some amazing sobbing while he dies in her arms. Lucille, wild with rage, goes out to kill Edith, and the two have a very scary, bloody catfight. Eventually Thomas' ghost shows up and distracts Lucille for a moment. Edith hits her hard with a shovel, presumably killing her. Alan and Edith escape.
Sorry for the long summary - If you've watched the movie before you read that part I'm sure you'll appreciate it as it's a very intense blur of an ending. I needed to state all the facts to draw any conclusions from them.
One thing Gullimero pointed out in an interview is that he wanted this to be a gothic romance with the twist of the heroine saving herself. She did. It's very good. I like it, and I also don't think that makes it any more valuable than a classic hero-saves-girl tale. Both are valuable. However, it casts Thomas Sharpe in a very conflicted light, as it inevitably makes him not the hero, because Edith was her own hero. I think it creates a wonderfully nuanced character that I've never seen before, of both him and Lucille. That alone makes it valuable. If I learned anything from my recent study of Shakespeare, it's that a fully formed, breathing character is worth any story you have to set around him to show him off. In plays like Othello and Hamlet and Lear that story is a little hard to watch, perhaps even easy to make fun of on some levels. (I mean, in King Lear, someone dies of surprise. Surprise.) But it's worth it, because the story is like the setting and the character is like the jewel. The story becomes the vehicle for the person to get to us. Once that character is set, like jello set by a mold, they can go anywhere. That's why Shakespeare's characters have endured.
So I've found I usually only write reviews on movies that aren't merely entertaining (although I enjoy them just as much) but that I feel are important somehow. Not that fun isn't important - I mean that they have something to say that I feel we need to hear. This particular review I wrote as a way to process the movie, and now I ask myself, is it important?
I don't think the movie did anything to me. I don't think it changed me or made me question myself. But I think it moved me. It made me feel sorry for Thomas and afraid of Lucille, and yet simultaneously angry at Thomas for not choosing a better path sooner and sad for Lucille's lonely, abandoned life. It made me feel understanding for the way she clutched at Thomas at any cost, because he was the only thing she felt could love her, the only one that knew her.
It reminded me that living locked away in a sinking house leads to unimaginable things. Usually you have to murder something to keep your secrets locked away. And love turns sour when it's cramped into such a tiny space. Love multiplies as it is given away. Love sequestered, held as too precious to give to any but "these few" or "that one" often seems to become that complicated emotion which feels both tethered and terrified of being untethered. I think it's called a love-hate relationship. People being abused can have that kind of love for their abuser.
So I think the moral of the story, or one of them, is this: cowardice will kill you. Not today, not tomorrow, but eventually, everybody's fear catches up with them. And not their fear of what's out there, in the big, wide, open world. It's their fear of leaving what's behind, the cowardly quivering in the past, the great hesitation before the first big step, before revealing their secrets and accepting love from those who still love them anyway. "The world" is much less scary than the lonely world within. Don't hesitate anymore. Step out into the light.
Mia Wasikowska as the "innocent girl" - Edithn Cushing
Jessica Chastain as the "villain and sister" - Lucille Sharpe
My reviews always contain spoilers. So beware!
Crimson Peak is a gothic romance. It is a return to a less twisted "twist" on a classic genre, and yet it works some modern ideas into the mix without spoiling the classic feel.
The costumes are lavish and drool-worthy, the set is mysterious, dark, creepy, and beautiful, the actors gorgeous and nuanced in their performances. The house seems to ooze blood, which is actually the red clay the house is built upon and is slowly sinking into.
Much in the story is metaphorical. I'm sure I didn't catch it all, and some of what I didn't catch was mentioned by the actors in interviews, which helped me to flesh out a movie that really needs to be seen twice. For instance, there are butterflies and moths in all of the wallpaper and furniture (and also literally everywhere as actual bugs). These represent Edith, in all her innocent, butterfly glory and Lucille, in her sedentary, moth-y darkness.
But perhaps more profoundly, the house is sinking slowly into the red clay much like the Sharpe siblings, Thomas and Lucille, are sinking slowly into a life of murder as Thomas utilizes his persona as a tall dark stranger to make rich and unattached girls fall in love with him. Once at Crimson Peak, and once they've signed over their fortunes, the siblings kill the girls and use the money to help prop up their literally sinking lives.
So huge spoiler: the siblings have an incestuous love. Yeah, you read that right. I have never come across that before in a film, but I can't say I didn't see it coming. There was some big dark secret. This fit the bill, and it made sense based on their very exclusive sort of life, both abandoned by parents, living alone together without other companionship, covering shared dark secrets, such as murder. I could be tempted to write it off as a story centered more on the shock value of that discovery than one of true character, but I think that would be short-sighted. Its inclusion is not for shock value. It's an important and integral part of a very dark tale.
Lucille especially is a part of the house. Her costumes were made to reflect it. She seems to come from walls. She is wholly connected with the house. It represents her life, everything she has - Thomas, their love born from loneliness, her domain. It's her comfort zone. It's her kingdom. Thomas, on the other hand, is very slightly less connected. He wants to serve his sister, and he wants to stay in his comfort zone, but much to his misfortune he truly falls in love with Edith, the young, innocent archetype of gothic romances. When push comes to shove, he does what he can to save Edith - everything short of killing his sister immediately, which comes to grief. I think the really facinating thing about this movie is Thomas Sharpe - how he falls in love with two things, with his life with his sister, the house, the comfort zone of what's always been, and with Edith, the future, and the bright, clean world she carries around her like a bubble.
So the ending is this: Thomas is ordered to kill Edith's secondary suitor, Alan, a Sam Gamgee kind of soul, by Lucille. Thomas, we learn, hasn't actually killed any of the women he lured into the sibling's deceit, it was Lucille, who also killed their mother, I think. Lucille also killed Edith's father, side note, so she was free to marry Thomas. Thomas, in an electrifying scene, has Alan, who is a doctor, tell him where to stab him so he will survive. Edith is made to sign away her fortune by Lucille while Thomas secretly settles Alan in the cellar. Edith wounds Lucille and escapes her, and would have hurt Thomas too except that he convinces her that he does indeed love her and tells her he didn't kill Alan. Thomas confronts Lucille in her bedroom and burns the papers that Lucille made Edith sign to give them her fortune. Lucille stabs Thomas in the face, and then Jessica Chastian does some amazing sobbing while he dies in her arms. Lucille, wild with rage, goes out to kill Edith, and the two have a very scary, bloody catfight. Eventually Thomas' ghost shows up and distracts Lucille for a moment. Edith hits her hard with a shovel, presumably killing her. Alan and Edith escape.
Sorry for the long summary - If you've watched the movie before you read that part I'm sure you'll appreciate it as it's a very intense blur of an ending. I needed to state all the facts to draw any conclusions from them.
One thing Gullimero pointed out in an interview is that he wanted this to be a gothic romance with the twist of the heroine saving herself. She did. It's very good. I like it, and I also don't think that makes it any more valuable than a classic hero-saves-girl tale. Both are valuable. However, it casts Thomas Sharpe in a very conflicted light, as it inevitably makes him not the hero, because Edith was her own hero. I think it creates a wonderfully nuanced character that I've never seen before, of both him and Lucille. That alone makes it valuable. If I learned anything from my recent study of Shakespeare, it's that a fully formed, breathing character is worth any story you have to set around him to show him off. In plays like Othello and Hamlet and Lear that story is a little hard to watch, perhaps even easy to make fun of on some levels. (I mean, in King Lear, someone dies of surprise. Surprise.) But it's worth it, because the story is like the setting and the character is like the jewel. The story becomes the vehicle for the person to get to us. Once that character is set, like jello set by a mold, they can go anywhere. That's why Shakespeare's characters have endured.
So I've found I usually only write reviews on movies that aren't merely entertaining (although I enjoy them just as much) but that I feel are important somehow. Not that fun isn't important - I mean that they have something to say that I feel we need to hear. This particular review I wrote as a way to process the movie, and now I ask myself, is it important?
I don't think the movie did anything to me. I don't think it changed me or made me question myself. But I think it moved me. It made me feel sorry for Thomas and afraid of Lucille, and yet simultaneously angry at Thomas for not choosing a better path sooner and sad for Lucille's lonely, abandoned life. It made me feel understanding for the way she clutched at Thomas at any cost, because he was the only thing she felt could love her, the only one that knew her.
It reminded me that living locked away in a sinking house leads to unimaginable things. Usually you have to murder something to keep your secrets locked away. And love turns sour when it's cramped into such a tiny space. Love multiplies as it is given away. Love sequestered, held as too precious to give to any but "these few" or "that one" often seems to become that complicated emotion which feels both tethered and terrified of being untethered. I think it's called a love-hate relationship. People being abused can have that kind of love for their abuser.
So I think the moral of the story, or one of them, is this: cowardice will kill you. Not today, not tomorrow, but eventually, everybody's fear catches up with them. And not their fear of what's out there, in the big, wide, open world. It's their fear of leaving what's behind, the cowardly quivering in the past, the great hesitation before the first big step, before revealing their secrets and accepting love from those who still love them anyway. "The world" is much less scary than the lonely world within. Don't hesitate anymore. Step out into the light.