Review: "The Lighthouse"

EGGERS, Robert, “The Lighthouse”, A24 Films LLC/Regency Enterprises/RT Features/Parts & Labor Productions, 2019.

Now, this is more like it.

I was beginning to think that the horror genre, at least in terms of cinema, was becoming a pre-chewed slab of James Wan-styled inconsequence. Everything was turning on sinister poppets and dead nuns set in pastiche previous decades trying too hard to be authentic. There didn’t seem to be a genuine vision out there, trying to find its own way through the morass. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, there is a fair deal of interest out there in the genre and in taking it in new directions; none of it seems to be making it to the big screen, however. How good then, to discover something like this.

“The Lighthouse” is Eggers’s second full-length feature and is also (as was his first film) set in the New England area of America’s East Coast (I feel I need to be specific about this – most places where the British established colonies have regions named ‘New England’; Americans seem to think they are unique in this regard when they quite patently are not - the southern coastal region of New South Wales, for example, is also called “New England”). The scene is a lonely lighthouse on a rugged shoreline and the characters consist of two dour and weathered men both named Thomas (although initially, we are introduced to the younger of them as “Ephraim”). This set-up is hugely claustrophobic and lends itself immediately to all kinds of psychological distortion, since it turns out that at least one - or both - of them go quite loopy.

Adding to this closed-in feeling, the entire film is shot in monochrome, in a ratio of 1.19:1 (making each shot almost square) and using special lenses which modify red tones, causing them to darken significantly. This means that all imperfections in the actors’ skins are highlighted, giving them a craggy, beaten and slovenly look – perfect for two blokes living in hard weather on the far backside of the world. Every frame of this film feels like an old-time photograph come to life and this is a revelation. Adding to this, the dialogue is all taken from original sources, patterned after actual logs and accounts written by people of the period. It sounds a bit cod-pirate initially, but once you’re in the swing of it, it works beautifully.

In terms of casting, two better actors couldn’t have been chosen. “Old” Thomas is played by Willem Defoe who inhabits the role of the Ancient Mariner to perfection, while “Young” Thomas is portrayed by Robert Pattinson. Now, Pattinson is not my go-to guy for anything, really - he irritates the be-jeezus out of me more often than he doesn’t – but here, he’s perfect. He looks right; he sounds right; he’s just right for the part, as much as it pains me to say it. Of course, I watched all of the special features on the disc and the interviews with him talking about the role were just as I imagined they would be – affected; bored; self-obsessed – so it just goes to show that, when pressed, he’s a better actor than he claims not to be (he’s spent a bunch of time in the media recently claiming that he “doesn’t know how to act” – he’s lying, folks, and here’s the proof).

Defoe has that tried and tested ability to go from disdainful patriarch to grinning maniac in a heartbeat which has worked for him time and again across his career and here it not only works a treat but it feels real; multi-dimensional. Nothing rings false and both of these guys pitch to the back row in terms of their performances. Just watching them both chew up the gorgeous, weather-beaten scenery is worth the price of admission.

The narrative arc of this film is taken from a real historical event which happened in Pembrokeshire in Wales, in 1800-1801. Two lighthouse-keepers (or “wickies” as they called themselves), both named Thomas – Howell and Griffith - began a four-week stint at the Smalls Lighthouse situated 32 kilometres off the coast. The two were known to harbour animosity towards each other, inevitably falling to violent argument whenever they found themselves in each other’s company. A short illness affected the older Thomas after their arrival and, in the teeth of a rising gale, forced him to succumb. The younger man, fearing that investigation would mark him as the man’s murderer, kept the body in a box and lit the emergency beacon, signaling for help. Unfortunately, a savage storm prevented all boats from mounting such a rescue and, after the rotting body became unbearable to co-habit with, the remaining wickie lashed the box to the companionway railing surrounding the light and the elements took their toll upon it. At one point, the dead man’s arm protruded from its makeshift coffin, flailing around in the wind and causing a nearby ship to halt its rescue attempt – despite the emergency beacon – because they interpreted the waving arm as a sign that all, in fact, was well. The pounding of this same dead hand against the lighthouse window drove the remaining Thomas to the brink of madness and he was later rescued, after the storm abated, white-haired and gibbering. The event altered lighthouse-keeping policy from that point forward, ensuring that three men, rather than two, were assigned to each beacon from then on.

Much of this scenario has made its way into this film: the embittered and angry Thomases; the paired wickies; the monumental storm preventing rescue – it’s all here. Added to this is the almost unbearable confinement suffered by both men as they try to navigate the enclosed space which houses them. The Older Thomas is high-handed and imperious, citing his longer period of employment as evidence of his higher status, and careless about his personal habits and their effect upon the Younger Thomas (there is much farting and other noxious forms of scatology on offer here). Young Thomas has a dark secret which is slowly revealed as things progress and with which he wrestles guiltily, eventually coming to a kind of confession which seals the older man’s doom (Old Thomas treats the issue trivially and uses it rather rashly against the younger man). Young Thomas becomes obsessed with the light, access to which is denied him by the older man as a symbol of his experience and privilege, and his usurpation of power and claiming of ownership forms the bulk of the second half of the tale. There is some playing around with the notion that Older Thomas represents Proteus, the sea god, from Greek mythology, while Younger Thomas symbolizes Prometheus, the notorious stealer of holy fire: there are nods to all of this, but none of it is heavy-handed. Most of the more outré elements can be interpreted as Younger Thomas simply losing his mind and the carefully orchestrated equivocation of this material gives the piece extra strength and punch.

In the lead-up to this film’s launch I was hearing all sorts of Lovecraftian whispers that it was tied-in somehow to the Mythos. Sure, there are some tentacles and a pelagean creature (again, probably only in Young Thomas’s head) but, along with the New English association, much of this turned out to be – thankfully! – just some eager fan-boy’s hopefulness. If there’s a bit of this film to which I took exception, it’s the killing of the seagull, which is horrific, and I was truly thankful to learn that it was done using special effects – despite there being no “No Animals Were Harmed…” disclaimers in the credits, which was a bit disturbing to note.

In the final analysis, this is an excellent and stylish piece of work that is very much worth your time in checking out. It has nothing to do with Lovecraft and the Mythos - despite what the breathless hordes are panting - but don’t let that put you off: it's its own beast and a deliciously horrid one at that.

Five Tentacled Horrors from me.