"The Lighthouse" was my most anticipated movie of the year, not so much because of the incredibly high buzz generated by critics since the film first made its appearance at Cannes back in May, and not even because of the well-respected cast members or of the director in charge of the project (after all, Robert Eggers' first feature film, "The Witch", left me ultimately unimpressed despite a strong understanding of physical horror and a bone-chilling atmosphere from beginning to end). Well, it all undoubtedly helped, but really, it might've only been the combination of an unsettling location and the simple premise of the film - two lighthouse keepers going about their usual business on a secluded island (the "rock", as Thomas Wake, Willem Dafoe's mad-eyed character, repeatedly calls it) - that drove me to eagerly await its arrival in theaters.
From the get-go, "The Lighthouse" establishes itself as a dark, grim and joyless piece. One of the opening frames is a haunting and symmetric back shot of the two main characters, somberly standing on a boat's front deck, patiently (and almost mourningly, as if they had lost every last bit of themselves) awaiting to reach their destination: the "rock", entirely covered by an overbearing fog miles ahead of them. It sets a dispiriting and depressing tone that is only refined by the excellent use of black and white - the absence of color rapidly becomes inherent to the characters and objects on the screen, to the point where I frankly wasn't able to imagine a colorized version of the keepers' clothes, of the meals they were eating, or of the New England sky. It was all so magnificently dull and devoid of life.
Much like the cinematography, the interactions between Pattinson and Dafoe are nothing short of fascinating to observe all throughout the film. I would call both of their performances career-defining if their careers weren't already... well, as solidly defined as they are. Pattinson, incorporating a hopeless and self-loathing man, comes perfectly at odds with his counterpart, an aged sea veteran verging on insanity. The film is in a perpetual state of rising tension - evidently expressed by the score - while the two shout in a raging dialect of 19th-century seamen, fight clumsily with one another and slowly fall into debauchery, completely engulfed by the chaotic weather and tormented by the island's closeness, which highlight the fantastic production design.
In spite of the looks, "The Lighthouse" is not a horror movie in the common sense of the word (nor does it try to be, really). At least it doesn't feel like one. Rather, it acts like a psychological drama that delves deeply into an ordinary experience to transform it into something much more unique and unexpectedly puzzling. It took me quite a while after leaving the theater to figure out what had actually happened, and I'm still totally unsure that I have the right answer, if there is one. It's an extremely well-crafted film that, without necessarily covering for the "The Witch"'s faults in terms of overall payoff, stands far ahead of Eggers' directorial debut.
From the get-go, "The Lighthouse" establishes itself as a dark, grim and joyless piece. One of the opening frames is a haunting and symmetric back shot of the two main characters, somberly standing on a boat's front deck, patiently (and almost mourningly, as if they had lost every last bit of themselves) awaiting to reach their destination: the "rock", entirely covered by an overbearing fog miles ahead of them. It sets a dispiriting and depressing tone that is only refined by the excellent use of black and white - the absence of color rapidly becomes inherent to the characters and objects on the screen, to the point where I frankly wasn't able to imagine a colorized version of the keepers' clothes, of the meals they were eating, or of the New England sky. It was all so magnificently dull and devoid of life.
Much like the cinematography, the interactions between Pattinson and Dafoe are nothing short of fascinating to observe all throughout the film. I would call both of their performances career-defining if their careers weren't already... well, as solidly defined as they are. Pattinson, incorporating a hopeless and self-loathing man, comes perfectly at odds with his counterpart, an aged sea veteran verging on insanity. The film is in a perpetual state of rising tension - evidently expressed by the score - while the two shout in a raging dialect of 19th-century seamen, fight clumsily with one another and slowly fall into debauchery, completely engulfed by the chaotic weather and tormented by the island's closeness, which highlight the fantastic production design.
In spite of the looks, "The Lighthouse" is not a horror movie in the common sense of the word (nor does it try to be, really). At least it doesn't feel like one. Rather, it acts like a psychological drama that delves deeply into an ordinary experience to transform it into something much more unique and unexpectedly puzzling. It took me quite a while after leaving the theater to figure out what had actually happened, and I'm still totally unsure that I have the right answer, if there is one. It's an extremely well-crafted film that, without necessarily covering for the "The Witch"'s faults in terms of overall payoff, stands far ahead of Eggers' directorial debut.
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