When her heart is stolen by a seductive stranger, a young woman is swept away to a house atop a mountain of blood-red clay— a place filled with secrets that will haunt her forever. Between desire and darkness, between mystery and madness, lies the truth behind Crimson Peak. From the imagination of director Guillermo del Toro (Pan's Labyrinth) comes a gothic romance masterpiece starring Tom Hiddleston, Jessica Chastain, Mia Wasikowska and Charlie Hunnam.
Edith (Mia Wasikowska) is an aspiring novelist in early-20th-century America, the sheltered only child of a wealthy industrialist and widower (Jim Beaver). She falls under the spell of Sir Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), a charming, but nearly destitute baronet visiting this side of the Atlantic to secure financing for a prospective mining operation on his land in North West England. After a tragedy and much to surprise of polite society, Edith and Thomas wed, and she journeys to live with him in his ancestral home. It is an opulent, but decayed manor slowly descending into the expanse of scarlet clay upon which it is constructed, and the newlyweds share it with his icily guarded sister, Lucille (Jessica Chastain), and, it turns out, a host of perturbed spirits. To survive what she discovers to be a hostile environment, a frightened, yet determined Edith must unravel the mysterious history of the Sharpe family.
Crimson Peak is a hypnotic geyser of a film: a cavernous, richly imagined Edwardian spectacle of high fashion, the grotesque, and the sensual. Highly respected genre specialist Guillermo del Toro directs it with the contagious and unbridled enthusiasm of a child unleashed in a toy store. His influences are not hard to spot—he draws from the headstrong heroines and windswept country estates of Henry James and the Brontë sisters, as well as the suspense films Gaslight and Notorious, both of which feature Ingrid Bergman as an imperiled wife in a duplicitous household—but his reverence is productive, powering a vigorous homage to an antique and profoundly romantic idea of the macabre.
As evidenced previously by, among others, Pan's Labyrinth and Hellboy II: The Golden Army, del Toro is nearly as fastidious a student of the otherworldly as Wes Anderson is of mordant whimsy, and his perfectly ghastly vision informs even the briefest scenes here (an early moment of character development, for example, involves spirit photography). Every detail—every candlelit hallway, every craning camera movement, every skeletal and viscid phantom—is thoughtful and just so, the result of a cinematic wizardry born of a nerdy and undying devotion to haunted-house theatricality.
And in a pleasant surprise, the content and the cast are not outshone by the lush form. The contorting plot of inheritance and insanity is perfectly structured, each deviant development and spectral jolt timed with an almost mathematical precision, and it functions both as a fanciful ghost yarn and a debauched, mournful love story. The one aim never overshadows the other. And the gifted central performers—the wide-eyed and ethereal Wasikowska, the dastardly and debonair Hiddleston, the severe Chastain—are invited to create characters writ large, dialing every attribute and response slightly higher than they otherwise might so as to fall in line with the operatic scope and fevered timbre of the production. However, they never go so far as to lapse into camp and dilute the resonance of the characters and the webs they spin around one another.
Download
Or you can buy the Original Bluray
Price: $19.96
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar