From the beginning, Crimson Peak doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. It’s like a sweeping gothic novel, somewhere in the overlapping center of a Edgar Allen Poe and Charlotte Brontë Venn diagram. Sure, there are ghosts in the film, but the ghosts only serve to help Mia Wasikowska’s character, Edith Cushing, solve the mystery of her father’s untimely death, which is where Guillermo Del Toro’s dark fable begins.
Edith is a writer, and she’s trying to sell a story that has ghosts in it, but it’s not necessarily a ghost story (hint hint, nudge nudge). When a mysterious stranger (Tom Hiddleston) and his sister (Jessica Chastain) enter her life though she’s swept off her feet (seriously though, who wouldn’t be captivated by Hiddleston?). The only thing in her way is her father (Jim Beaver), who is suspicious of Thomas Sharpe’s motive with his daughter, and who would much rather have Edith end up with their family friend Dr. Alan McMichael (Charlie Hunnam). However his final say is never heard, as he’s mysteriously killed one day at a bathhouse, which leaves Edith falling into the arms of Thomas.
Guillermo del Toro’s gothic feature is very straight forward, and he doesn’t attempt to twist and turn his story. The film was made for atmosphere, and it oozes blood, romance, and a dark, foreboding sense of dread. This is where the movie succeeds most, rather than in its familiar trappings. Del Toro understands spectacle and his lush sets are reminiscent of Josef von Sternberg, if he were to take a walk down Hammer Lane. There’s a beautiful, classic appeal to Crimson Peak that is quite magnetic to watch unfold.
But then there’s the story, and while you’re experiencing the film it feels spectacular, but as the weeks go by the love begins to wane. Character motivations start to become uninteresting and the actual “twist” (if you want to call it that) is very been-there-done-that. As far as plotting goes, there’s nothing terribly original or striking about Del Toro’s latest feature, which isn’t uncommon when it comes to his Hollywood endeavors (Hellboy, Pacific Rim, Mimic, should we go on…?). The essence of originality that Pan’s Labyrinth and The Devil’s Backbone are riddled with is disappointingly absent.
While Hiddleston and Wasikowska are certainly perfect for their roles, Jessica Chastain glamorously steals the show, from scraping spoons on porridge bowls to lurking around the broken mansion like a ghost herself. She’s a monstrous presence that creates a sumptuous amount of tension between her and Wasikowska, but Del Toro and writing partner Matthew Robbins really let her down in the final act, when her character’s true intentions and motives are monologued. Chastain sells it, but she could sell a paper bag and make it look exquisite.
Crimson Peak is a love letter to a certain type of genre film that isn’t made anymore – the romantic gothic horror film fans dearly long to see return into fashion. But it’s not perfect. In fact, at times it’s a mess, and at the end of the day that’s what makes this movie forgettable. Gigantic set pieces and powerful performances can disguise Crimson Peak’s flaws when you’re sucked into its presentation, but upon further dissection there’s nothing really spectacular past its spectacle.
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