Reviews
[REVIEW] ‘Crimson Peak’ Conjures A Perfect Gothic Drama
Crimson Peak is the perfect film if you want to dissect and break down exactly how skilled a filmmaker Guillermo Del Toro is. Early in the film, Edith meets with a publisher, where she describes her novel as less of a ghost story and more of a story with ghosts in it. It’s very clearly a kind of unsubtle way for Del Toro to have an actress look at the camera and deliver his ethos on the film directly to you (there’s no way to make a meta line that verbatim says “the ghost is a metaphor” not sound kind of corny).
There are only a handful of directors that I would say have a truly all-encompassing grasp on the films they make. Panos Cosmatos comes to mind, as does Dario Argento; no matter what you pick from their catalog, they have a total tonal cohesiveness. There’s something that bleeds through every ounce of their film’s cinematography, a signature on every frame. Guillermo Del Toro is one of those directors, possibly the preeminent among them, and Crimson Peak is certainly the film that embodies his cinematic signature best.
The Haunting Setup of Allerdale Hall
Discriminated against by publishers and rejected by socialites for her ambition, Edith Cushing can find no peace. But when a bold and charming inventor named Thomas Sharpe whisks her away, Edith’s troubles grow deeper. She’s taken to the Sharpe ancestral home, Allerdale Hall, a sinking mansion seated over a clay mine. Thomas and his quiet sister Lucille tend to its dusty halls. But as visions of grotesque red spirits begin to terrorize Edith, the manor’s history and who the Sharpes are, becomes clear quickly—and dangerously.
For the longest time I was told that Crimson Peak was a “slow-burn horror film”, but this is where language when describing movies is sometimes lost in translation for me. Crimson Peak isn’t what I would consider slow burn just because it’s quiet and not as frenetic as your typical supernatural horror. It’s briskly paced, there’s a mystery that unfolds at a steady rhythm, and there are quite a few encounters with the horrific ghosts of Allerdale Hall throughout the film (which are some of the best designed in film history, Mr. X Inc delivers when it comes to effects).
A Dark Gothic Romance at the Center
But in between all the phantasms and frights, there is a dark and uncomfortable romance unfolding that takes precedence. The film is far from unpredictable storywise, but it doesn’t really matter because the roughly 100-minute runtime breezes through, keeping you clung to the drama going on between Edith, Thomas, and Lucille. And when the tension between all three of them is relinquished, it feels less like waiting for a noise to sound off and more like the end of a high-strung violin performance.
If you’re a fan of gothic literature at all, this film has homages to it in spades, the most vocally beloved and represented here being Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher. Del Toro has said as much, describing the film as “a cross between a classic gothic romance, like Jane Eyre […] and The House of Usher” in interviews. There are quite a few direct references to the events of Usher, including the mansion itself literally sinking into the earth, and its story elements like those that are incorporated which show you Del Toro’s love for gothic romance and his love for this film.
Allerdale Hall as a Character of Its Own
More visible signs of careful planning and execution are to be seen…well, in every other facet of the film. I’m about a decade late and a dollar short when it comes to clever analysis of how everything in this film is beyond gorgeous. But I will highlight that it won a Saturn Award for Best Production Design for a reason: Allerdale Hall is a breathing place, not breathing air but pure death. It’s not full of life, but a wispy, smokey unlife. There’s atmosphere pouring off its walls and stones like heavy bromine vapors. It’s up there as one of my favorite settings in all of horror, alongside the Overlook Hotel and Haywood Ranch.
It’s genuinely criminal that this film didn’t win any of the costume design awards it was nominated for, because they can be downright mesmerizing. They’re a key part of the film’s language, making many of the characters more visually striking and memorable. Chastain’s character, Lucille, arrives on the screen hailed by an outfit of deep red fabric that’s as rich and powerful as the classical music she plays on the piano. In this film, the costumes are a dramatic tool in and of themselves instead of just dressing for the performances, and I will always laud the ridiculously talented costume designer Kate Hawley for what she did here.
Standout Performances from a Perfect Cast
But of course, what is a stage without its players? I really can’t picture anyone else besides Tom Hiddleston and Jessica Chastain in this film, since they make the perfect duo; they both have so much gravity on screen it’s difficult to pull your eyes away. The movie belongs to them, given the kind of bombshell line deliveries they achieve. However, that’s not to discredit Mia Wasikowska, who shows off quite a bit of range as she goes through emotional torment after emotional torment.
Crimson Peak is the perfect film if you want to dissect and break down exactly how skilled a filmmaker Guillermo Del Toro is. Early in the film, Edith meets with a publisher, where she describes her novel as less of a ghost story and more of a story with ghosts in it. It’s very clearly a kind of unsubtle way for Del Toro to have an actress look at the camera and deliver his ethos on the film directly to you (there’s no way to make a meta line that verbatim says “the ghost is a metaphor” not sound kind of corny).
The Ghosts Serve the Drama, Not the Other Way Around
And while I would have disagreed with it in the past, Crimson Peak really is a perfect story about people where the ghosts serve the drama. I can honestly say this film could work without its more horrifying elements, that I can imagine a version of this film divorced from the supernatural, is a testament to the pure amount of craft Del Toro put into it. Unlike Allerdale Hall, Crimson Peaks is on solid ground and is some of Del Toro’s best directing yet.
Reviews
‘Re-Animator’ Review: The Lasting Legacy of a Horror Comedy
I can’t remember the first time I saw Re-Animator. While this will probably piss someone off, my first real introduction to a variation of the source material was with Joshua Chaplinsky’s Kanye West – Reanimator. Maybe I had seen the film before that, but I wasn’t certain. I decided to go back and watch (or rewatch) the film to compare it to the satirical book. To my surprise, I loved it! I’m not sure why I didn’t remember watching the film, but I was so enthralled that I wanted to make my second tattoo a Re-Animator tattoo! Five tattoos later, and I still don’t have one.
What is Re-Animator About?
Daniel Cain (Bruce Abbott) is a medical student at Miskatonic University, along with his girlfriend Megan Halsey (Barbara Crampton)… Megan just happens to be the daughter of Dean Halsey (Robert Sampson). Herbert West (Jeffrey Combs), who recently transferred to Miskatonic, finds a posting with a room for rent at Daniel’s. Paying with a fat stack of cash, Herbert quickly moves into Daniel’s and gets down to business. The only problem is, Herbert’s business is reanimating the dead.
As someone who has been adamant about not liking horror comedies, Re-Animator really tickles me in a way most don’t. There’s a supremely dark tone to this film that is brightened by the overly campy performances, deadpan jokes, and brutally funny practical effects. Re-Animator is one of the rare films that could have been singularly played for laughs or fear, but exists in this middle ground where it’s the best of both worlds. While this film isn’t deep enough to glean new meanings or gain profound lessons, each rewatch never ceases to be less enjoyable than the last.
One of the Best Lovecraft Adaptations
Writers Dennis Paoli, William J. Norris, and Stuart Gordon took (racist) H.P. Lovecraft’s Herbert West–Reanimator and unknowingly made one of the best Lovecraft adaptations to date. There’s a peculiar phenomenon in horror where films attempt to be overly Lovecraftian, much like the genre’s tendency to label films as Lynchian. What people don’t get about Lovecraft is that not everything was all tentacles and otherworldly. Obviously, there’s a level of that that plays into what Lovecraft was. I would personally label Re-Animator, along with In the Mouth of Madness and Color out of Space, as the best three Lovecraft adaptations/Lovecraftian films to date.
There’s little to say about a film like Re-Animator that hasn’t been said already, but there is one specific point that needs to be echoed. Well, two. Firstly, Re-Animator was director Stuart Gordon’s directorial debut. His insistence on creating a viscerally nasty, sexy, funny debut film was important to set his name apart from others. Stuart Gordon came out swinging and, throughout his career, didn’t stop swinging.
The second point that needs to be echoed is just how amazing the film’s practical effects are. Whether it’s the played-for-laughs cat puppet or Dr. Carl Hill’s (David Gale) decapitated head, each practical moment is handled with dignity, care, and the utmost beauty. While a handful of shots may not hold up as much now as they did in the 80s, the practical effects that grace Re-Animator rival some of the rare practical effects that are used today.
Why Re-Animator Still Matters in Horror History
If you haven’t seen Re-Animator, what are you doing? It’s full of brilliant, campy performances that could be a masterclass in Horror Acting for Screen 101. Barbara Crampton is a gorgeous badass, Bruce Abbott is a hilariously hapless himbo, and Jeffrey Combs showed how he was cultivating his career to be exactly what he wanted it to be. A film like Re-Animator will live on in horror history for the rest of time. My only question is…how hasn’t there been a (yuck) remake yet?
Reviews
‘Iron Lung’ Review: Exceptionally Atmospheric Cosmic Horror
As Iron Lung begins, the film places you in an overhead shot looking down at a submarine that’s seen better days. Jagged metal teeth of a broken cage sit at its head, illuminated by a light from the ship above that’s about to cut it loose. As you’re about to be dropped into a roiling ocean of blood, you become quickly invested in its story.
A dire paternal voiceover runs you through your place in the world as an observer: someone is being sent into the “waters” of a far-off moon in a dead, dark galaxy. They’re in search of an answer you’re automatically aware will never be enough and a penance they will never attain. It prompts an obvious, cutting question: if Hell is where we’re looking for an answer, how bad must things be among the stars to go searching there for hope?
A Surprising Outing for Writer and Director Mark Fischbach
The debut feature film of writer and director Mark Fischbach, better known to the internet at large as Markiplier, is as surprising as it is atmospheric. And no, not surprising because Fischbach is an internet personality crossing over into film. And no, not surprising because this is a video game adaptation that is actually quite good.
The surprise here is mainly from the way Fischbach dodges a number of first-time filmmaker torpedoes that would otherwise sink the film straight to the sea floor. It’s in the very clear coordination and trust he has with his cast and crew. In a way, the film itself is a mirror of the submersible his character is forced to pilot: flawed, surely, but strong enough to complete its mission and deliver an exceptional experience.
What Is Iron Lung About Exactly?
The story goes as follows: in the wake of an event called the Quiet Rapture, the stars themselves have been snuffed out. Most of the galaxy has been plunged into sudden darkness, and a mass dying off has consumed countless worlds (think the worst possible aftermath to The Nine Billion Names of God).
Convicted for a reprehensible crime, the convict Simon (played by Markiplier himself) has been given a rare opportunity to return to life among the survivors. The mission is to pilot a death trap of a one-man submarine into the blood oceans of an alien moon, looking for a scientific sample useful enough to earn his freedom. That is, assuming he doesn’t lose his mind or his life in the process.
Bespoke Set Design That Matches the Premise Perfectly
Iron Lung should be commended first and foremost for being a bottle film with the perfect set design to match. Not overly ambitious, but not too simplistic either. Contained in a marvel of a small space, the submarine here is a tactile nightmare of rusty metal and antiquated technology you never get sick of seeing more of.
While Fischbach and director of photography Philip Roy have the camera linger in close ups almost too often, I don’t blame them for wanting to capture the finer details and leer at them. It’s clear every inch of this condensation covered machine was engineered by the art team and production design to emphasize its prison cell qualities as a barely functional vessel.
The ship’s external camera fires off like a flash bulb on its interior, barely illuminating the cabin with its next horrific image of the sea floor before plunging us back into darkness. The oxygen gauge and its cold robotic voice are a countdown to the painful annihilation that awaits its pilot. Its proximity sensors give only the barest indications of what’s going on outside, ticking a dull noise warning us: you are not alone. It’s a punishment to operate, and the set design as well as the very solid sound design that accompany it make that violently clear and effectively spinetingling.
Translation From Game to Film Isn’t So Perfect Though
This perfect setting isn’t always used perfectly though. The translation of the game’s mechanics and gameplay to the screen are both a weakness and a strength. They make the pacing of the first third run to a slow start, especially when Fischbach’s screenplay grinds against the strong suit of the film’s cinematography: the panic of it all.
Like its video game source material, David Szymanski’s Iron Lung, the film is really at its best when it’s instilling a sense of active and imminent panic. A tone that matches the borrowed time the submarine is glued together with. Putting out fires, both literal and metaphorical, ratcheting up its claustrophobia as you’re placed cheek to cheek with Simon in steamy, metallic darkness. This is where Iron Lung shines.
Markiplier’s Performance in Iron Lung is Hit or Miss, But Mostly Hits
It’s outside of these moments of panic where the weakest parts of the script and Fischbach’s performance are highlighted. Some weak line deliveries and beats of dead air kill the real tight headlock the film could have you gripped in from start to finish. And while Fischbach is phenomenal at playing terrified or pleading or even simple exhaustion in the face of the impossible, he really requires someone to bounce off of as his solo work just isn’t as compelling. Even the clunkiest bits of dialogue between him and his jailer (Caroline Kaplan) are better than the best of his moments where he talks to himself or tries to inject some humor into the bleak story.
This is a shame too, because the minimalist storytelling and background we get for his character is genuinely very intriguing. It’s thematically rich for what the film is trying to say about the power and terror of belief, and it’s doubly satisfying that the film has enough confidence to not lay everything out in a longwinded speech explaining the motives and lore that landed him here.
All that being said, his performance is hit or miss, but he mostly hits. The dialogue becomes more urgent as we approach the climax, and all of the cast delivers on that impending doom nicely. It reaches its peak in the final act, and Fischbach is on fire as he struggles to hold himself together in the face of absolute madness leaching its way into the pressurized cabin.
Iron Lung: A Redemptive Finale With Pure Liquid Body Horror
What a fantastic final act it is, one that makes up for its imperfection in the first two parts with a homerun of pure liquid body horror. It’s just phenomenal how the film’s digital and practical effects present the true horrors of Iron Lung. There’s a near perfect mesh between the two, and they highlight the best influences of similar genre films that came before.
Soaked with all the gore, madness, and mystery of the likes of Event Horizon and Pandorum, Iron Lung is a worthy successor in the cosmic horror genre as it rises above its own problems. It’s a moody, environmentally precise stunner of a horror film that sets a benchmark as the movie to beat for forthcoming releases this year.


