10/28: The Lighthouse

10/28: Today's horror flick (and it feels criminal to call this 'un a "flick") was one I've been anxiously awaiting ever since I heard about it: The Lighthouse. From Roger Eggers, director of the the stellar film The Witch, The Lighthouse follows a two-man lighthouse crew (or "wickies") whose secrets, cabin fever, and drink descend them into madness. Played by the killer duo of Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson (who has left his Twilight history firmly in the past, thankfully), The Lighthouse is like watching the craziest two-man play you could possibly imagine. And...

Damn.

Like...

What the eff did I just watch.

I don't throw that phrase around willy nilly, but c'mon Sean... what the eff did ye just watch?

If you've seen The Witch you know that Eggers don't mess around when it comes to his filmmaking. Every detail from cinematography to costuming all the way down to historically accurate dialogue for crying out loud are meticulously planned and presented. The Lighthouse, a film oozing with heavy symbolism, is no different. Shot on film and cameras from roughly the same late 1800s/early 1900s time period that the film is set, every shot feels like a work of black and white art. Shadows and light play with your mind, much like how they play with the minds of the characters. It's like watching a film version of old daguerreotypes; truly a gorgeous period piece. Couple that with stellar performances and dialogue lifted straight from Herman Melville and visually this movie is a masterpiece, a true work of art. 

As for the plot, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it; I"m leaning toward that actually being a good thing. The Lighthouse is not a film you put on in the background. It demands your attention to unravel the tangled yarn ball that is it's mythic Prometheus, Proteus, and deep sea symbolism. It requires that you wrestle with it's warped timeline and even more warped character's psyches. It pulls you in, forcing you to search for meaning in every low-lit corner, even in the scenes of mermaid sex and egregious farting. Yep. There's a whole scene where Pattison screams that he can't take Dafoe's farts anymore and it's just as loaded with meaning as everything else in the film.

Next on Egger's docket is the deeply symbolic Terrance and Philip film.

There's a million different meanings you could pull from this film and most would be equally "right." After the initial head scratching and inevitable Google search of something resembling the phrase "The Lighthouse explained" (yeah, guilty), you're left with a movie that sticks with you. I think that proves the true strength of a great film: does it stay with you, and does it keep you thinking? Clear answers are perhaps overrated in the world where popcorn movies are so often what we watch; The Lighthouse rewards our patience, makes us think (god forbid), and leaves us to our own conclusions. It's not horrifying in the classic sense, but it's penchant for madness and insistence on not clearly answering our questions is plenty scary in it's own right. 

Go watch this film. Dissect it with your friends over a beer at your local sea shanty if you have one. Then feel it crawl under your skin for a few days afterward, like the tentacle of some great sea beast. Watch yourself come out the other side a bit different than when you came in. 

Isn't that filmmaking at it's best?

10/10