CRIMSON PEAK

Starring: Mia Wasikowska, Tom Hiddleston, Jessica Chastain

Writers: Guillermo Del Toro, Matthew Robbins

Director: Guillermo Del Toro

Edith Cushing (Wasikowska) - nice touch with the surname - has been able to see ghosts since she was a child and now those visions inform her aspirations to be a writer. The business dealings of her father sees Edith's path cross with that of British Baronet Sir Thomas Sharpe (Hiddleston) and his sister Lucille (Chastain). It's clear that Thomas is interested in Edith - they both have an interest in the supernatural - but are his intentions driven by something more sinister?

With all of the praise heaped upon this movie from many reviewers more trusted and experienced than I, I do feel a little odd at feeling somewhat less than astounded after having viewed it. It's perhaps because Guillermo Del Toro's previous movies have set the bar so high that I couldn't manage my expectations and had already geared myself up for an astonishing, immersive, unforgettable experience. To be fair, I wasn't exactly racked with disappointment come the end credits but I was far from giddy with excitement.

Still, this is well worth seeing if only to marvel at the incredible design of the production. It's achingly beautiful to behold and I wished I could have been given a pause button to freeze the scene and take in all of the stunning detail (okay, the audience would have probably have been waiting for me outside afterwards because the film would have run for six or seven hours due to me stopping the action with annoying regularity, but...). In my opinion it's the most sumptuous visual treat of the year, hands down. Your eyes will thank you for it.

Crimson Peak also boasts a trio of performers at the top of their game. Wasikowska is a smart, engaging heroine and Hiddleston resists the temptation to chew the scenery in what could easily have been a ripe old role, instead giving us a multi-layered, sympathetic characterisation of a man whose romantic notions mean he's constantly flirting with disaster. For me, however, it's Chastain who steals the movie, hovering ominously on the periphery, a harbinger of doom with an amusing/frightening perma-glare and a cut-glass English accent. She's absolutely brilliant and I hope she had as much fun portraying Lucille as I did watching her.

So, in spite of the above, why didn't it make my heart sing as much as I desperately wanted it to? Well, for starters, it's just not scary enough as a ghost story. It's admirably light on jump scares and on occasion the apparitions are gruesomely effective but the chills are fleeting and the tension isn't allowed to build. The spooky surroundings of Allerdale Hall, the rambling, rickety ancestral pile of the Sharpes, doesn't even feature in the film for the first 45 minutes, the opening act more concerned with Thomas attempting to procure funds for his innovations in mining equipment (and, unfortunately, it isn't much more interesting than that sounds).

The plot is certainly of the old-fashioned type, relying on discoveries of documents and artefacts that any villain worth their salt would have disposed of immediately after their dastardly crimes had been committed. I did get a feeling this this all-too-obvious exposition was a clever smoke and mirrors ploy, diverting my attention away from the real facts, culminating a rug-pulling reveal which would leave me wondering why I hadn't seen what was right in front of me. But no, I had seen what was right in front of me. There is no twist. The evil comes from exactly where you think and the motive for all of this is either refreshingly straightforward or irritatingly lacking in complexity depending on your viewpoint. It's an open and shut case, guv.

Crimson Peak works much better as a lavish, romantic, Gothic melodrama than it does as a creepy, chair-arm wrecking haunted house tale. There is much to admire about it, chiefly the jaw-dropping look of the piece and a cast of talented players treating the material with a deft touch. Trouble is, there's something fundamentally lacking and considering the usual warmth of Del Toro's work the biggest shock is how cold it left me.



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