The Lighthouse

Celebrating a life achievement by watching the collectors edition with director commentary and giving this the long awaited bump since I think enough time has passed. Easily one of my favorite movies in the last 5 years. Robert Eggers delivers his 2nd feature film in 2019 with help from his brother Max which can be described as something nothing short of a technical masterpiece in filmmaking. Utilizing some of the most sophisticated combinations including techniques from the past to accompany a black and white 35mm double negative film with a 1.19:1 aspect ratio has The Lighthouse being the ultimate homage to rich history. Transporting the viewer to a forgotten time in 1890’s New England where off the coast two lighthouse keepers arrive for their 4 week stint. A psychologically dense character study where you’ll see influences of Poe, Jung, Freud as well as numerous mythological artworks and texts results in a captivation like no other. Two ungodly performances by Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe completely buying into Eggers vision as they created everything by hand authentic to the time in every detail like he’s known to do. One of the more memorable experiences that I’ve had with a film that begged me to learn more about it with it only getting better on every rewatch. Ephraim Winslow has decided to leave his former occupation as a logger in order to start a new career as a “wickie”. He arrives on his rock containing a lighthouse where he’ll be for the next month with his supervisor Thomas Wake. Right away we see this won’t be an easy ride for Winslow as he’s doing hard labor that’s only met with ornery disapproval from Wake who even threatens to dock his wages. Winslow desperate for a clean slate tries to put up with as much as he can but soon fragments from his past begin to threaten his level headedness. With only the two on the rock there is no where for Winslow to retreat he can only hope for the next shift to relieve him once his time is up. I’ve pretty openly gushed about this film from day one but my love has only increased. Eggers was on record saying he can’t believe it got made since the full black and white release with that incredibly obscure aspect ratio is just something you don’t see in modern films. The ability to transport a viewer to a unique period and place with his overall command and attention to detail is nothing to scoff at. Small things I’ve learned over time like every seagull shown in the film was an actually bird, most of witch were completely wild with a few trained gulls that were used. Imagine having that level of control over your film, it seems as if everything is by design even things that are common among films of the genre like an intense sound design or a score by Mark Korven that adds layers of dread and curiosity. It can’t be understated how good the performances are from Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe. Dafoe should have won best supporting actor zero doubt in my mind. Both of them display nuanced characters that speak this challenging elevated language from the past and they make it look natural as can be. The art references and imagery thats in every scene is just another thing making this more meaningful. The homage to Hypnosis by Sascha Schneider as well as Prometheus would be my two favorite by far among a litany of greats. Robert Eggers said if he experimented with torment again then we wanted to project some levity into it. While I’m not quite sure if you could classify The Lighthouse of any comedic elements you could certainly find yourself taken over by a haunting atmospheric period display with so many references to art like I have for going on 4 years. My excitement for Eggers next endeavor “Nosferatu” is already off the charts. * Hark!, Triton, Hark! Bellow, and bid our father; the sea king, rise up from the depths, full-foul in his fury, black waves teeming with salt-foam, to smother this young mouth with pungent slime….to choke ye, engorging yer organs til ye turn blue and bloated with bulge and brine and scream no more * * Only when, he, crowned in cockle shells with slithering tentacled tail and steaming beard, takes up his fell, be-finnèd arm — his coral-tinted trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and runs you through the gullet, bursting ye, a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now — a nothing for the Harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon, only to be lapped up and swallowed by the Infinite waters of the dread emperor himself, forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea… for any stuff or part of Winslow, or even any scantling of your soul, is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea.*