Crimson Peak is a deliciously gothic soap opera masquerading as a horror film.
The film, co-written and directed by Guillermo del Toro, is a campy romp through a haunted house, loaded with stunning visuals that put every inch of its $55 million budget on display. It's so gorgeous to look at and so carefully put together that you might not mind the meandering plot.
[seealso slug="pan-review-so-bad-it-is-bad"]
Starring Mia Wasikowska, Tom Hiddleston and Jessica Chastain (who shines as the film's true villain), the film takes viewers back to the late 19th century, plodding back and forth between New York and England.
Wasikowska plays Edith, an aspiring young writer who falls in love with the charming and mysterious Thomas Sharpe (Hiddleston, ladling his English charm). But of course, something isn't quite right about him, or his cagey sister, Lucille (Chastain).
Nonetheless, Edith falls in love, despite her father's (Jim Beaver) disapproval. All the while, there's Dr. Alan McMichael (Charlie Hunnam), a well-to-do man with a good heart who would probably marry Edith at the drop of a hat.
Edith is a frustrating lead, especially once she falls into the horror trope of characters who run toward obvious danger instead of far, far away from it. In the beginning of the film, she's a spritely, determined writer with a latent feminist streak who name drops Mary Shelley. But as soon as she gets with Thomas, her spark dulls -- as does Wasikowska's performance once Chastain gets more screen time.
Lucille is an unhinged villainess, cruel and haughty, which Chastain delivers with perfection. Her performance nails the film's overly dramatic nature, but still respects the material. Once Edith moves into Thomas' god-awful mansion in Nowheresville, England, Chastain really gets to flex her performance, which unravels into a delightfully manic state by the end of the film.
Hardcore horror buffs might be slightly underwhelmed by this film, which is, at its core, a tale of romance gone wrong. Del Toro knows how to twist up the suspense, but scream-worthy moments are few and far between. There's plenty of blood and some stomach-churning violence, but nothing a seasoned scary movie-goer can't handle. If anything, it's the creepy-looking design of the ghosts that really up the scare factor.
The ghosts of del Toro's creation in this film are bloody and mangled creatures. They don't simply haunt dreams in the night -- they emerge, screaming and deformed, from the rotting floorboards, racing toward their earthly prey. They come to Edith in the night, banging about in every corridor of the mansion she shares with Thomas and Lucille, which is partly why this movie is so frustrating. Edith's reactions to seeing ghosts are always underwhelming, and one of the downsides to Wasikowska's performance. The way Edith handles these revelations is one of the film's many dips in the script.
All the characters have these lofty goals that sort of fall by the wayside. Edith wants to write a book. Thomas wants Edith, but also to create some sort of machine that pumps clay out of the ground. Lucille wants to ... I don't know, play piano and creep about like her brother's professional shadow.
It doesn't really matter, because the film's saving grace is its utter beauty. It truly has a storybook quality, with a stunningly crafted color palette that radiates with all its gold and crimson hues. Every setting is so meticulous, every tree, every costume, every little patterned teacup.
The Crimson Peak estate is particularly impressive, especially considering del Toro built a three and a half story house on the film's set. The house is exactly how one would picture a haunted 19th-century estate -- busted ceiling, rotting wooden floors, a basement that strongly resembles the Chamber of Secrets -- and what really ties it all together is the red clay that lives just beneath the soil, which turns any snow that falls on the ground a bright, bloody red, which del Toro uses to great effect.
This film, in the hands of a lesser director, would have been a dull ghost story with no spark. In del Toro's hands, it glimmers like a gothic little jewel. The scenic world of Crimson Peak is beautiful enough to get lost in -- and that is ultimately the only reason you should see it.