Crimson Peak has what my old Film teacher would call a ÔÇÿcircular narrativeÔÇÖ, in which we follow an aspiring writer, Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), trying to navigate the new, revolutionised world around her. ItÔÇÖs only until Baronet Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) and his sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain) stain the gold-saturated world with their deep blacks, dark Hammer horror reds and ominous green/blue tones does Edith travel back to the ÔÇÿOld WorldÔÇÖ and confront her ghosts, which she professes are ÔÇ£metaphors for the past.ÔÇØ
However, due to the director Guillermo Del ToroÔÇÖs film beginning with (almost) the same scene it closes with, Edith is immediately placed in a ghost-like kind of category for audiences, with the ghostly framing of her character being influenced by her long, Miss Havisham and Bertha Mason-esque mad hair and white night gown. The fact sheÔÇÖs placed centre-frame and staring intently at the audience here seems to promote Del ToroÔÇÖs relationship with his versions of ghosts, as the direct address suggests we all have our own ghosts to confront, and theyÔÇÖre often mirror images standing in front of us. Along with the circular narrative technique, EdithÔÇÖs framing proves her Henry-James-inspired ghosts-as-metaphors sentiment is true, since the protagonist herself is confronting her own ghosts through her writing.
While the novel Edith tries to get published in the film is important for various reasons, it is the novel the she actually publishes that audiences should pay attention to most. Presented in the form of a Disney fairytale animation opening, EdithÔÇÖs green hardbound ÔÇÿCrimson PeakÔÇÖ transports us back in time to a world she once knew. To use the scholarly academic site Twitter as a prestigious, intellectual reference, Del Toro once tweeted that ÔÇÿtelling a story is the desire to create worlds that exist solely in us, for the solace of others that may need them.ÔÇÖ These stories haunt us ÔÇô haunt Edith ÔÇô until they can no longer be contained. Edith uses writing in the same way Henry James used ghosts in his novels: to solve the mysteries of the past. By fictionalising her life through ÔÇÿCrimson PeakÔÇÖ the novel, she is not demeaning her experiences by translating them to stories, but instead elevating them by using them as a form of catharsis to come to terms with her fears, losses and loves; the horror in this film becomes a sub-genre to the Gothic Romance, with all aspects of the horror being used to allow Edith, and Lucille, to come to terms with the ghosts that haunt them.
Thanks to the circular and cross fade transitions, the editing ensures we stay in EdithÔÇÖs perspective for the majority of the time, since the very specific times the black drawn-in fades are used are at points that could either be the end of a chapter of a gothic novel, or the beginning of a new act. The filmÔÇÖs conformity to 19th Century gothic novels doesnÔÇÖt end with the editing, either, as, just like ÔÇÿGreat ExpectationsÔÇÖ and ÔÇÿJane EyreÔÇÖ, there is no clear, definitive villain audiences are so used to seeing. Instead, the binary oppositions are reserved for the themes and motifs of Crimson Peak, for example life and death, moths and butterflies, or Del ToroÔÇÖs creation of the juxtaposition of gold with cyan.
In an interview with Little White Lies, Del Toro described how he and Jessica Chastain approached the character of Lucille with great sympathy, as, while what she does is wrong, she believes itÔÇÖs the right thing to do. The tragic and melancholic nature is introduced to the film through LucilleÔÇÖs character as sheÔÇÖs ultimately trapped in the past, which Del Toro does not let us forget thanks to close-ups of the keys that stay with her throughout the entire film, dangling by her waist ÔÇô she has locked up her ghosts, her past, and refuses to acknowledge them, or allow anyone in to help.
Allerdale Hall, then, changes from simply being the classic mansion thatÔÇÖs a key signifier of the gothic to LucilleÔÇÖs whole world ÔÇô and each day sheÔÇÖs watching it crumble into the crimson, Hammer red clay that can symbolise anything from hell to the past or the unknown. This is where she has metaphorically and literally ÔÇÿlockedÔÇÖ away her childhood, memories of her mother and her suffocating love for her brother Thomas, and everything Lucille and Thomas spend their lives doing is an attempt to keep their past in the present, despite the fact this is futile as these are characters who are living in the past tense ÔÇô they are already a part of the ghosts that haunt Crimson Peak, and itÔÇÖs Edith ÔÇô the person who lives in the present tense ÔÇô who frees them to the past.
So, as the past reclaims the Allerdale Hall and nature seeps in in the form of autumn leaves and the whitest snow through the decaying hole in the roof, itÔÇÖs clear each character has their own ghosts, and their own definition for these ghosts. EdithÔÇÖs are ghosts that stem from her childhood innocence, of the unknown. Her mother, after the protagonist didnÔÇÖt see her dead body due to the closed casket funeral, haunts her, while her father, whose corpse she does see, does not. The idea of children as vessels of horror reappears once again through LucilleÔÇÖs dead child and the correspondence this has with her lack of childhood as a result of her mother ÔÇô Lucille is constantly surrounded by the ghost of what she could not have, and aside from the personified mansion that often seems like it itself is breathing, the only thing she does have that allows her to cling on to this past is her brother. As for Thomas Sharpe, itÔÇÖs unclear as to what haunts him. Perhaps this is due to the fact he is more focused on moving forward with the revolutionised world than his sister/lover, as shown through his clay machine, or maybe itÔÇÖs because for once the male character is being used as a one dimensional plot device to enhance the protagonistÔÇÖs ÔÇô EdithÔÇÖs ÔÇô journey, the latter of which I view as a strong point rather than a criticism, since, ultimately, Crimson Peak is about Edith becoming her own person. To quote Del Toro once again: ÔÇ£To learn what we fear is to learn who we are.ÔÇØ
As mentioned, aspects of Charlotte Bront├½ÔÇÖs ÔÇÿJane EyreÔÇÖ and DickensÔÇÖ ÔÇÿGreat ExpectationsÔÇÖ are referenced, along with Mary ShelleyÔÇÖs ÔÇÿFrankensteinÔÇÖ and both the film adaptation and the book of ÔÇÿRebeccaÔÇÖ; however, it is what W. B. Yeats would call phantasmagoria that is perhaps most interesting. A form of theatre that was created by using a magic lantern to project images such as ghosts onto walls, phantasmagoria was believed by Yeats to be one with poetry. The referencing to this style of theatre can be seen by the directorÔÇÖs continuous use of what he calls ÔÇÿone source lightingÔÇÖ, in which the light is created from a single window or candlelight, which would involve careful planning from the design
and direction by Thomas Sanders, Brandt Gordon, Jeffrey Melvin and Shane Vieau. Del Toro also uses it with his long shots of the hallway, particularly when Edith was a child, as the shadows that creep up on the walls reference both the magic lantern technique, and perhaps even Nosferatu (1922) also.
Del Toro and his cinematographer Dan Lausten create frames that appear as paintings, trapping the filmÔÇÖs own characters in a place of time making them ghosts through the film medium. The details paid to small insects through extreme close-ups are not to be ignored either, as theyÔÇÖre microcosms for what Edith and Lucille are, with Edith being the dying butterflies that gain life as Edith gains perspective, and Lucille the moths that thrive by living in the dark, away from the constraints of the passing of time.
While Crimson Peak is a Gothic Romance, Del Toro combines its genre with fairytale and horror, ultimately creating a film thatÔÇÖs reminiscent of the mix of horror and poetry in Jean CocteauÔÇÖs La Belle et la B├¬te (1946) or Georges FranjuÔÇÖs Eyes Without a Face (1960). The poetry and melancholic, gothic nature of the horror of Crimson Peak is summarised by the denouement ÔÇô throughout the film, Edith had been the only character that could see ghosts, but in the final scenes, Lucille can see her dead brother. The reason for this is ambiguous, but perhaps itÔÇÖs because she has finally left her keys, her locked up past, behind, and can now move forward to being with the one she loves most emphasising Del ToroÔÇÖs comment in Little White Lies that ÔÇÿthe beauty of horror is that we care about lossÔÇÖ. The most important part of this denouement to note, however, is the borders that have been crossed: Lucille has gone from life to death, and Edith from innocence to experience, with each character spending the film travelling between those two worlds.
Crimson Peak has been marketed as a horror film, resulting in an unfair reception from critics and at the box office. Perhaps the marketing team should have taken EdithÔÇÖs words about her novel to heart, since Crimson Peak is not a film about ghosts, but a film about love ÔÇô all forms of love ÔÇô with ghosts serving as a metaphor. And anyway, whatÔÇÖs not scary about falling in love?
Sinead McCausland