Film Inquiry Weighs In #1: Crimson Peak

One annoying trend nowadays is for people to mix their genuine reactions to a film with the hype and varied opinions of others, judging it not on its content, but what you thought it was going to be. Quentin Tarantino flipped heads last year with The Hateful Eight, a considerably slower but angrier entry into his filmography, which caused anger amongst many filmgoers who were expecting another Spaghetti Western tribute that mixed modern music and quick-paced action.

This highlights the problem with auteur theory and the reliance of marketing in the current movie climate, where many movie marketeers either must spoil an entire film within the trailer to gain the audience’s confidence to go see it or mismarket a film because they’re unsure on how to sell a unique/niche product to a broad audience. Guillermo del Toro’s 2015 film Crimson Peak was unfortunately a victim of this mismarketing trend.

Crimson Peak was sold to audiences as a full-blown horror film, one which mixed The Amityville Horror–style atmosphere with giallo-inspired aesthetics. What people got instead was an old school Gothic romance, which merely used supernatural elements as part of the story, not the focus of the narrative. Whilst most people praised the visuals, many audience members and critics were highly divisive on the film itself, with many people either loving del Toro’s carefully constructed film, with others labeling it as quite boring and merely feeling like a derivative of del Toro’s earlier Spanish horror hybrids.

With some time now since the film’s initial release, we asked some of our writers to give their current thoughts on the film, which range from love to flat-out disappointment.

Alexander Miller

After my introduction to Guillermo del Toro’s stunning feature debut Cronos I immediately sought out The Devil’s Backbone, and my concept of genre filmmaking was blown away by the immaculate level of intelligence and quality in execution that went into those films. By this time, Pan’s Labyrinth was on the horizon and my best suspicions were confirmed; I hailed del Toro as one of modern cinema’s most fascinating creative minds. While I thought his three Spanish language films were nearly perfect fusions of historical context and expressionist fantasy, I couldn’t say I was over the moon with Pacific Rim. But the announcement that Crimson Peak would be his return to the more sumptuous world of period horror was a treat to the ears.

Crimson Peak indulges every sense with the grace and eloquence of an adept craftsman and artist operating at the peak of their creative powers. The context and influence of the films Guillermo del Toro admires are legible, but never does this movie veer into referential territory; if I were to draw any comparisons, I would say this is a Ménage à trois of Hammer Films, Merchant Ivory, and classic Gothic fable. Not a second of film is wasted, and every object in the frame contributes to the story – the architecture, hairstyle, clothing, wallpaper – everything that appears on screen has meaning. Crimson Peak could be a silent film, it’s so vividly detailed. If movies can be this great, they should be this great, and Guillermo del Toro has proven that this level of quality isn’t just a flight of fancy but his mission statement as a director; thankfully, he seems to love his work.

Alistair Ryder

When I wrote Film Inquiry’s review of Crimson Peak last October, I noted how it would likely be reevaluated as a flawed masterpiece by future film fans due to the glorious production design, the homages to several highly regarded works of Gothic literature and a rip-roaring psychosexual subtext. Repeat viewings would treat Guillermo del Toro’s film well, just as time is kind to flawed masterworks from many other great directors.

So it was a disappointment to say my original position ‘on the fence’ regarding Crimson Peak has been replaced by me taking up a residency in the hater’s camp. This is a film so annoyingly on the nose in regards to the aforementioned subtexts and narrative foreshadowings, that it would frequently become a comedy were it not so stupefyingly dull. The aesthetics of the film perfectly fit in with the genre; the score effortlessly mimics horror scores one minute and cheesy sex scene scores the next. But it all feels so calculated and detached from emotion – you never care about the characters, whilst the narrative is so blatant in its foreshadowing there is never any intrigue that would make you want to continue viewing.

Of course, del Toro’s previous film was Pacific Rim – and compared to that, Crimson Peak is a work of rare subtlety. But what Pacific Rim had that Crimson Peak doesn’t is a sense of fun at exploring old genre tropes – this is a homage to classic Gothic literature that merely makes you wish you had spent the time reading instead. Everything that should be interesting about the film, such as the ghostly metaphors or feminist subtexts, is rendered lifeless by del Toro’s uncharacteristically cold direction. For a rare genre filmmaker who possesses strong character empathy, the fact that I didn’t care about the characters makes this a clear anomaly in his eclectic filmography.

Dave Fontana

A new Guillermo del Toro film is usually an event to look forward to. It’s even more exciting when it’s a Gothic horror film, which according to del Toro’s own words, is the closest in style to the Spanish-language horror films of his early career. Upon my viewing of Crimson Peak, though, I was extremely disappointed. Though this is at least partly due to overhyped expectations, the great majority is that the film is, simply put, a beautiful disaster.

I recently heard a quote by the legendary John Waters, which stated: “I believe if you come out of a movie and the first thing you say is ‘the cinematography was beautiful’, it’s a bad movie.” This could not be more relevant to Crimson Peak. The straightforward and almost too-predictable story concerns a woman named Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), an aspiring writer living in Buffalo, New York. After meeting a dashing British baronet named Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), she is instantly smitten, going so far as to leave her life behind in order to live with Tom and his eccentric sister (Jessica Chastain) at their family home in Great Britain. Up until this point, other than the contrasted purple and green color palette, del Toro seemed to have created a delightful homage to classic Gothic horror. Yet, though the Sharpe mansion, with its dilapidated structure and scarlet-red oozing walls, is among his more magnificent creations, the sense of mystery so evident in those films is absent here.

We know from the start that the Sharpe siblings are bad news, so the remainder of the film is just a sluggish run as we watch Edith catch on to what should already be obvious. The characters within Crimson Peak are also nothing more than bland, unwatchable archetypes, so lacking in emotion and relatable features that they further detract from the experience. The atmosphere and style is there, but without an engaging story or fully-fleshed characters to back it up, the film instead feels lifeless and hollow.

Anybody who is a fan of del Toro will understand his fascination for monsters, from the colossal kaijus of Pacific Rim to the fantasy-infused creatures of the still masterful Pan’s Labyrinth. Here, much like The Devil’s Backbone, they are flowing, vibrantly colored ghosts, who although frightening at first, are more just fascinating to witness. Yet, much like Edith’s discoveries, the ghosts do nothing more than reveal what is already known. They do little to drive the plot forward, making this Gothic element (which was heavily advertised in the trailers) nothing more than a throwaway component of the film.

Guillermo del Toro’s original films are, for the most part, uniquely inspired. It’s just a shame that Crimson Peak, his latest attempt at Gothic horror, failed to follow suit.

Emily Wheeler

Crimson Peak was always going to be an uphill battle for me. It’s simply not to my taste, relying heavily on romance and gore to sustain a methodical plot. I can appreciate its successes, but only as an outsider, as someone who instinctively rolls their eyes at ballroom intrigue and dripping corpses.

My inability to connect with the material leaves me watching it in evaluator mode, which is not the best way to enjoy a film that drives everything home with a sledgehammer. Oh, you’re going to give away the bad guy through costume design? Linger on meaningful glances? State the narrative purpose of ghosts in the first few minutes? Even more frustrating than the plot’s translucence are its holes, which are massive considering how simple the story is. Still, the main failure of the plot is its inability to hit the modern notes it tries for. The gore and the twist feels quaint when compared to current television let alone movies, paling in comparison to hits like American Horror Story and Gone Girl.

And yet, even with all these problems gnawing at my brain, it’s hard to flat-out dislike Crimson Peak. Its throwback pacing and influences are skillfully done, and as with all Guillermo del Toro films, it looks immaculate. Keep in mind that this film was made for a healthy but not extravagant $55 million. How del Toro and his team made a film that feels so big and detailed on that budget is a feat worth applauding, let alone leaving enough money for a cast capable of elevating the thinly-drawn characters. These are the things that ultimately make Crimson Peak worth watching, even if you do walk away feeling let down by what could have been.

Thomas Gianakopoulos

Full disclosure: I’m a huge fan of films from the bull, which translates to, cine del Toro, if my high school Spanish is to be trusted (it isn’t). Until recently, my rule of thumb regarding films written and directed by Guillermo del Toro had them falling under two categories: those written, directed and performed in his native tongue, Spanish, and those done in his adopted (some might say orphaned) language, English. To my tastes, the films written in Spanish always seemed to contain a defter touch, one with stories that contained more subtlety and less cliché, more of a sly subtext, and less bombastic and awkward dialogue.

Fortunately, where Crimson Peak is concerned, Mr. del Toro has enlisted the services of co-writer, Matthew Robbins, a screenwriter who previously worked with the director/producer on the productions of the movies Mimic and Don’t Be Afraid Of The Dark. As with those two films, the improvement in the English-language dialogue of Crimson Peak is quite palpable, although I suspect one of my favorite lines—“I heard you the first time”— especially with the physical violence that precedes its almost campy delivery, came directly from the darkly humorous sensibilities of the director himself.

Guillermo del Toro has a fondness for stories with monsters and boogeymen and things bumping around in the night, and if my memory and Wikipedia are to be trusted (they aren’t) this is the director’s second feature-length ghost story as its writer/director; the first being The Devil’s Backbone, but more on that film in a moment.

Crimson Peak is a ghost story, a cinematic tale of Gothic horror that is brimming with atmosphere, from its ornate production design and costuming, to the lush layering of music and a rather murderous sound design; it is steeped in the lore and language (both aural and visual) of the genre, one which Mr. del Toro continually refers to as Gothic romance, but “toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe”, as the saying goes—provided the “fruit”(read, film) in question is blood red. For those familiar with the director’s symbolic proclivities, there are the usual del Toro motifs and elements in play: various insects and gear driven machinery are insinuated throughout the narrative, oh, and the presence of blood, both literal and metaphorical; the latter being found in the crimson clay from which the movie derives its name.

The buzzing of complaints about Crimson Peak from various reviewers and bloggers have lamented the heavy-handedness of the film, but there are also subtleties to be discovered, nuances within the storytelling that said critics seem to be overlooking. Granted, when the crimson color of the title makes its full-blown appearance, it is virtually crammed into the eye sockets of the viewer – but for those who care to look, there are also layers and shades of meaning contained within the production design, costuming, cinematography, the actors’ performances, and, yes, also within the direction of the film itself.

Del Toro does tend to interpret the word GOTHIC in big, bold, beautiful letters, and as a result, lays its gothic-ness on a little thick over every aspect of this movie, but he also plays with the audiences’ expectations, so perhaps the negative reactions to Crimson Peak are projections from those uncomfortable with a female protagonist and the subsequent gender swap of a male playing the role of the requisite “damsel” in distress. I cannot really speak to that (at least not in depth), but what I did notice and respond to were the movie’s conflicted and rather compelling antagonists. How refreshing to have “evil” characters whom I could actually begin to understand and empathize with, while still cheering for the heroine of the tale, at least until the climactic (ahem) reveal of the siblings’ incestuous relationship, which creeped me out even more than the ghosts themselves. This is not the first time that del Toro and company have subverted the expectations that accompany a story hailing from a particular genre, nor, I suspect, will it be the last.

Going back fifteen years, the movie release of The Devil’s Backbone signaled Guillermo del Toro’s return to his native language, if not exactly his native land. It also signaled the depression of his personal reset button after having been burned by Hollywood during the making of Mimic. For all the disappointment and heartbreak of that experience, without it, he may never have made what may arguably be his most disturbing (in a good way) film to date. If you are not a fan of subtitles, or if you do not habla Español, then this movie is not for you, which is a shame, because it is one of his most interesting (read, restrained) films, one that manages to continually surprise – just when you feel you know where the plot is headed, it turns and heads in quite another plausible but unforeseen direction.

The film’s tone does not start in the realm of horror, but allows the horror to sneak up on the audience in ways that still send chills through this viewer’s body even after repeated viewings. There is a particularly unique blood effect that trails after the ghost, when it finally makes it appearance, and the pay-off as to the why of this is intricately linked with the ghost’s origin. Special effects have come a long way since 2001, but this effect makes a subtle reappearance in Crimson Peak, although there is no such “aha” moment connected with its physicality, nor does one necessarily sympathize with the ghosts in Crimson Peak to the extent that the young ghost is able to affect the viewer in the earlier film.

So, which is the better (read, scarier) ghost story? You can probably guess my answer, but I recommend watching or re-watching them both – back to back and preferably late at night – the better to pique that curiosity by your own “damned” self.

Alex Lines

To put it simply, Crimson Peak feels like an American remake of a terrific foreign film that came out several years ago. You cannot deny that the film is visually delightful, a successful mix of well choreographed cinematography and amazing production design, which helps sell del Toro’s macabre world, a dedicated style rarely seen in modern mainstream cinema. My personal opinion of the film is that whilst it is a tribute to the Gothic romance genre, the film never does anything new or exciting with its established tropes to justify a failed attempt to reignite the long-dead genre. The narrative is too predictable for its slow-burn nature, whilst its diversions into violence and jump scares clash with the subtle storytelling that drives most of the film.

There’s a reason that Crimson Peak has become del Toro’s most alienating work, a film which feels like a mix of his pastiche genre-celebrating American work and his personal supernatural Spanish productions, mainly due to its similar nature of one of his previous films, The Devil’s Backbone, which remains my favourite del Toro film to date (yes, I prefer it over Pan’s Labyrinth, which many people call his masterpiece). Whilst the acting feels a bit too on the nose (especially Jessica Chastain, who feels like she’s trying to perform a charades performance of someone evil), it’s the film’s script that ultimately drags it down into average territory. Behind all the brilliant costuming and grand production design, which do contribute aesthetically and thematically well with the content, the film is lacking in an original or engaging plot, one which pulls audiences in with its mystery and sense of incoming danger.

Instead, we are treated with a predictable and one-note story that doesn’t twist the narrative threads enough to make us care, as each chess piece moves just as intended, in a fashion seen a million times before. Is it worth watching? Of course it is. Whilst del Toro’s filmography is all over the place in terms of quality, there’s no denying his considerable impact on the industry, and I do fully anticipate any upcoming film by him. Crimson Peak doesn’t quite justify the negative barrage against it and it’s also incredibly disenchanting to see an original IP attempting something outside of the norm in mainstream cinema be such a box office flop; all that does is just decrease the level of original cinema that we receive.

Now that you’ve heard ours, what is your opinion on del Toro’s Crimson Peak?