The Lighthouse (2019)
The premise of The Lighthouse is relatively simple: two men isolated indefinitely at a rocky island lighthouse some distance from the coast of New England go mad over time. If you really want to simplify this even more, it’s about two of the worst roommates driving each other crazy while fighting over control of a giant phallus. Well, one of them does seem to go mad, the one who holds the least amount of power, working to beyond the point of exhaustion for a deeply superstitious man with tyrannical tendencies. The only way of finding an escape, other than pure fantasies, happens to be the self-destructive practice that has ruined so many sailors over the years: hard-drinking night after night.
But there’s more to Ephraim Winslow (Robert Pattinson) that’s been deeply troubling him – an incident in the past that haunts him that his continued existence on the island serves as a persistent reminder. Their shift on the island in the middle of the sea was originally to be four weeks in duration. Due to a leg injury, the boss, Thomas Wake, requires Ephraim to do nearly all of the physical labor on his behalf, which the younger man comes to deeply resent, feeling like a slave during the day and treated no better than an animal at night.
On his end, Thomas feels like Ephraim doesn’t respect his authority, and his cooking skills (Thomas seems to serve up the same plate of slop night after night; reportedly, a food fight scene was cut from the final film), and he’s going to break the lad to fear him if he won’t at least show him the respect of his position., The wall between them is so prevalent, despite being in close proximity to one another, they don’t even learn each other’s names until well into their scheduled stay.
From there, things get occasionally better, but often far worse, as Ephraim’s fear, guilt, and paranoia begin to get the better of him, combined with the toxicity of heavy drinking and feelings of overwhelming isolation. Visions come into his head of lusty mermaids, mocking seagulls, and a dead body he seems to know more about than he cares to remember.
Odd things occur in The Lighthouse that likely won’t make sense to many viewers on a first-time watch. perhaps they won’t ever make sense to some viewers no matter how many times they watch. One includes the characters occasionally seeming to switch identities as the story unfolds (indeed, much of the film has something to say about identity). Another includes them knowing things they shouldn’t know, or remembering things incorrectly, despite having just experienced them. And, of course, there are the seemingly supernatural visions that may or may not be figments of one person’s imagination.
Secrets are the fuel that drives paranoia, and the one thing that Ephraim is not allowed to know is just what Thomas is doing at the top of the lighthouse where the lantern resides, as he has been barred from entry every night. What he is able to glimpse adds further fuel, as he begins to think Thomas is not the only entity up there, and that there may be some sort of pseudo-sexual supernatural ritual occurring that he can’t quite decipher is real or the result of his rapidly disintegrating hold on his imagination.
Whether or not there is something deeper within the ambiguity than what we’re presented with will likely reside in the mind of the viewer, some who will continue to rewatch the film hoping that they can discover the key to director and co-writer Robert Eggers’ second feature after the mesmerizing but (some might say) equally confounding 2015 horror film, The Witch. Eggers co-wrote the script with his brother Max, partially based on a possibly true story (or, possibly a folk tale) about two early 19th Century Welsh stranded lighthouse keepers named Thomas, one older and one younger, who bicker and face adversity when struck by a major storm.
The first thing to ponder is why Eggers and his cinematographer Jarin Blaschke chose to shoot the film in black and white with a boxy aspect ratio that recalls older films, given that The Lighthouse does not ostensibly have anything to do with early cinema, except perhaps its setting, which is sometime in the 1890s. It also adds another subconscious dimension to the claustrophobic nature of the two main characters. Eggers drew more inspiration from period photographs, which were squarish and black & white, which is why the film runs this way. Cameras and lenses were brought in from the early 20th Century to lend authenticity, and older film stocks as well. While Eggers does not shoot his film with the era in mind, all of the sights are meant to draw the viewer into an older time and place naturally. Eggers starts with the atmosphere and lets the narrative spin forth from there.
The costumes seem to go back to olden days, as do the occupations and attitudes discussed, as well as the dialogue itself, which Eggers got mainly from reading books by Herman Melville and Robert Louis Stevenson. Thus far, Eggers’ reputation has been as someone who meticulously researches dialogue and dialects of the periods he sets his stories within, and he does successfully give The Lighthouse the air of authenticity (for instance, lighthouse keepers were called “wickies” in that time and place), feeling at times to a portal to days gone by, like reading a novel contemporary of its time. The lighthouse itself was a 70-foot high working replica made for this film, as real lighthouses in existence were too difficult to shoot within, requiring walls to be moved away to accommodate the cameras and angles necessary.
Diegetic sound adds to the haunting atmosphere, as clocks tick and clack in the background, only occasionally broken up by the sound of a foghorn, as well as the perpetual drone of the ocean waves which are becoming more fierce with the threat an oncoming storm. The clock is always present, even when the men begin to lose track of time, to the point where it begins to not even matter any longer. Matt Korven’s ominous score accentuates the eerie foreboding without becoming intrusive to the story. Then there are the other recurring sounds, from the one-eyed seagull who appears to be laughing at Ephraim’s foibles, to the launching of Thomas’s persistent flatulence into the quiet sea air.
The best thing about The Lighthouse for most viewers will likely be the committed performances by the two leads. Pattinson gives perhaps the strongest performance in his relatively young acting life, worthy of Oscar consideration that he just might get if he isn’t saddled with competing with the phenomenal Willem Dafoe in the same category (I would gather they will kick him to Supporting Actor if they can for this reason). Dafoe is intensity but plays his part with just a wink of self-awareness to let us know that he’s playing up the old-time heightened acting style of that bygone era where stage performers would inhabit many roles in film.
By the end of this arthouse folk culture exploration, our grasp on what’s real, what’s imagined, and what may be coerced by the power of suggestion is as tenuous as that which occurs in the minds of the characters. While the core themes may be elusive to some viewers, The Lighthouse remains a remarkable achievement in character interplay and psychological tension, keeping one’s eyes on the screen even when we’re not sure we want to see what’s showing. It’s an olden-style look at 19th Century American east coast horror tales, with an eye toward mystery, mayhem, and the macabre. If H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe were alive today to see it, they would probably be quite proud.
Qwipster’s grade: A
MPAA Rated: R for sexual content, nudity, violence, disturbing images, and some language
Running time: 109 min.
Cast: Robert Pattinson, Willem Dafoe, Valeriia Karaman
Director: Robert Eggers
Screenplay: Max Eggers, Robert Eggers