Recent converts to the skills of fan-favorite director Guillermo
Del Toro may swoon at the blockbuster spectacle of a film like Pacific Rim which taps into every corner of the
geek brain, but others know a good scare is what tickles his fancy. Del Toro's
fascination with the Gothic stretches back a ways, and he embraces that
adoration fully with the lavish, ostentatious horror Crimson Peak, a film of
such bloody good fun it could bring the rarely-used genre back to life.
More of a decadent haunted house story
than a ghost story, Crimson
Peak is a melodramatic,
Victorian wonder teasing dangerous romances, hidden secrets, and of course,
murder. While these elements are always tantalizingly on the surface, Del Toro
transfixes us with rich, baroque images. He's spared no expense in making this
his most beautiful film from top to bottom; from the gorgeous cast to the
titular bleeding red mansion that serves as the story's most unforgettable
character. 
Mia Wasikowska, who has never met a gothic
heroine role she didn't like (she was amazing in Cary Fukunaga's Jane Eyre), plays Edith
Cushing, an aspiring novelist who we see as a child encountering the ghostly
presence of her deceased mother. The apparition's warming to "Beware
Crimson Peak" lingers on her mind into adulthood, when she remains under the
watchful eye of her wealthy industrialist father (Jim Beaver). But neither he
nor Edith's stalwart admirer Alan (Charlie Hunnam) are a match for the
chivalrous and enigmatic baronet, Sir Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), who
quickly sweeps her off her feet. A violent, gruesome murder drives Edith
further into Sharpe's arms, and soon they are married and flying off to his
ancestral home. That she knows practically nothing about Thomas is, of course,
obvious to us, but Edith knows even less about his icy, possessive sister
Lucille (Jessica Chastain) who lords over the mansion like a mad
sentinel. 
The house is the film's glorious
centerpiece, a ruined, disheveled Hogwarts with falling leaves from the rotted
roof and red sludge oozing through the floorboards like blood from a gaping
wound. As Edith explores her creaky new domicile we too are introduced to its
every terrifying nook, captured in exacting detail from the fluttering array of
moths to the crimson ectoplasmic ghosts that stalk its halls. It wouldn't be a
surprise if Del Toro and co-writer Matthew Robbins were paying homage to the
classic Hammer horrors of years past, and the film certainly captures that
grotesquely over-the-top spirit that borders on camp.
Del Toro isn't looking to reinvent the wheel
here; there's no attempt to hide any of the dangers that threaten poor Edith,
but that's what is so enjoyable about it. It allows a certain level of freedom
for the immensely talented cast, especially Chastain who projects scorn and
disapproval like no other. Wasikowska and Hiddleston are both somewhat
restrained, and their characters' romance is never given enough time to fully
develop before the evil shenanigans begin. She largely plays to her
well-practiced strengths, capturing Edith's innocence and fierce resolve, while
Hiddleston is an indecisive rogue with a heart of tarnished gold. 
Crimson Peak is, in a way, like the culmination of everything Del Toro
has done before, embracing his blockbuster tendencies with the frightful
horrors he loved growing up. While there aren't a ton of scares, Del Toro knows
how to send a good chill up the spine. His creepier films have always been far
and away better than his action-heavy efforts, and hopefully Crimson Peak will inspire Del Toro to tap into this
side more often.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
