Top 5 Reasons You’re Missing Out On A Modern Masterpiece – The Lighthouse (2019)

I was coming out of this film, yesterday, and…I couldn’t help but think: I haven’t done a Top List in a long time.

Being a piece that can be received so many different ways from one viewer to another, Maybe, I thought, this particular format would be best-suited for talking about it. Oh, and before we go much further……… Spoiler warning, I guess? I don’t know—never written a spoiler review, before, so…I’m not too sure what qualifies one as such.

Either way, if you haven’t seen it yet… One, do so; and, two, you’ve been warned(?)…

Here’s what captivated me about this film—just in time for Halloween:

1.      Our leads. I haven’t seen Robert Pattinson in much, but if he keeps making films like this…he’ll be well on his way to making himself a modern icon—much like his co-star. Touching on Dafoe as Tom Wake, quickly: He’s phenomenal. Really embraces the old-timey New Englander dialect, too (which, according to the credits, they really researched through journals and language experts). It’s that extra mile the filmmakers didn’t have to go, but—like with The Witch—I’m so glad they did. Okay…Pattinson. There’s something off about him, from the beginning—with both of them, to be fair, but…something definitely darker, about Pattinson’s Ephraim. As the story evolves, as things happen to them on this remote island, we learn just how unhinged he is, and Pattinson delivers the performance eerily-well. But both men are fantastic, and just a touch manic.

2.      Really that insane, or insanely-real…? All throughout, we’re teased by the supernatural effect this light seems to be having on Willem Dafoe’s character—the stern, seasoned sea-farer who’s, essentially, married to his job. Something…bewitching is in the light, and we get glimpses of shadows, monstrous, tentacled beasts, even a fright-tastic mermaid. It’s a constant itch for Ephraim he can’t seem to scratch, as Tom holds the keys to the upper-light at all times. The younger light-keeper has killed before—unwittingly, but the fact he feels no remorse for it—and tells Tom this—attests to his having been damaged goods long before getting stranded in the middle of nowhere for far longer than anticipated. When their tensions come to a head—when Ephraim finally murders Tom out of sheer having enough and a depraved need to know what’s behind all this snowballing madness—he finally crawls up, half-dead, himself. In an ending which we’ll talk more on later, his questions are answered…but, throughout a lot of it—as with the current cultural phenom that is Joker—I have to wonder: How much of it is actually real? Granted, I wanted all of this to culminate in a Lovecraftian, “all you know about existence is a lie, here’s a giant, tentacled nether-being to finally put you over the edge” ending, but I’m glad it’s so vague—again, something I’ll get more into, at a later point. For now, though, suffice it to say that a lot of this story can be seen as happening in Ephraim’s head—discovering the mermaid beached on the rocks, the various creatures and plights, even old Tom, himself, seen as an older, worst-case scenario of Ephraim’s current heading in life…perhaps the most horrifying thing, for someone in the prime of their working life. The struggle between the old versus the new, now versus the future.

3.      The art of the film. Presented in black-and-white, in an old-timey and rarely-seen aspect ratio, the claustrophobia and tense feeling we feel throughout is able to perpetuate itself, by the technical specs, alone. Granted, that’s not all that makes this film creepy or unnerving, but the way it’s shown to us certainly helps. Director Robert Eggers—like with The Witch—had a very clear story to tell and a point to make, and utilizes the medium to its max; having the film edited so as to really accentuate shadows, pull our eyes in one direction or another without even moving the camera, or using subtle tricks in pulling out meaning where there wasn’t any—a shadow cast on the wall, in a montage, or something that may or may not even be happening at all, in the reality of the film. Shooting on-location in Nova Scotia, with very little set-work, is commendable. I realize how tempting that can be, but the intrepid director knows that the real thing, sometimes, just works better for the piece. Eggers is certainly that. The music is also fantastic, and lending to all this; foghorns and other workings of the light are woven into the score, giving an intrusive, creeping overtone to every scene. It’s always watching… One-takes and subtle transitions make it feel like one, ponderous crawl to an eventuality, but that’s not to say it doesn’t hold your attention. I felt like I was watching an experiment, a stage-play—which this could, with some alterations, realistically be. All this is what make Eggers’s films so immersive and full of character, even if the place they’re filmed is dry and grey and dead, beyond the actors; here, the lighthouse is a character—and a mystery—all on its own, and every aspect of the production goes into our general paranoia of its constant presence.

4.      Tone and texture. Like I said above, having an actual location involved—rather than filming totally on a soundstage, somewhere—lends to the authenticity of the film. Real-world textures, the “old bones” of a place—especially a creepy, possibly-supernatural lighthouse in the middle of the ocean—give a certain look and emotion to the proceedings. The tone throughout isn’t exactly consistent, but it is, indeed, linear; as these men work through weeks and weeks of isolation, with no relief on the horizon, their descent gets greater and greater. It’s always down… There’s no moment of hope for these guys, and we understand that. If I feel bad for anyone, it’s Tom—he’s just an old mariner, working a job. A little nuts? Yea, but that’s the life; he just so happens to be, on this particular watch, stuck with a cagey sociopath. Like Chris Stuckmann said in his review, this film isn’t above a fart joke; it’s not too lofty where the average viewer couldn’t glean its messages of human fragility and the very real madness of being cut off from civilization, but which has so many other, beautiful layers to it. I did find myself chuckling at points…if a bit nervously, sometimes. When things are getting destroyed during the storm that comes upon the island, the destruction—both physical and mental—is brutal. By that point, these men are on their last wits, and the lighthouse’s physical degradation resembles their own states. A perfect mirror.

5.      Multiple viewings required. Yes…we’re finally here. So, yes: I don’t believe any of this is actually real. Well…okay, they’re really on an island in the middle of the Atlantic, but all of what spooky happens—I theorize—is metaphorical, illegitimate, in Ephraim’s head. Including Tom, like I stated above. When Ephraim finally reaches the light atop the spiral staircase, as has been his goal all throughout, and puts his hand inside…we don’t see what happens, what’s actually in there. And that’s because…nothing is in there. It’s the lighthouse’s ever-burning flame, and nothing more. His quest, according to a bystander, was fruitless; he burns his hand to a crisp, takes a tumble back down the stairs, stumbles outside and passes out, and—by morning—he’s gull-food. This has a message, in itself, of the pointlessness and futility of looking for anything greater and larger than ourselves—like in Ad Astra; we may be all we got, and our incessant search to find any “plan” or all-knowing creator may just be our final undoing.

To pick up on all the little nuances of the film, I’d have to watch this over and over again—something I definitely plan to do…maybe even with another filmie, to encourage discourse, post-viewing. Glad I could introduce my mom to this kind of psychological-horror, though. It’s good culture.

Final ‘Risk Assessment: ****/*. Go see this one in theatres—I command ye!