Robert Eggers directs Robert Pattinson, Willem Dafoe and Valeriia Karaman in this grim tale of two lighthouse keepers driven mad from isolation, booze and power struggles.
“Are you going to see The Lighthouse? Don’t it’s rubbish.” An posho old boy passes us on the stairs of the Filmhouse. Then we were surrounded by stinky hipsters, some of whom brain farted through the movie more than Dafoe’s very gaseous wicky! “Is it going to be square?” “I think that’s an octopus?” “Oh that’s gory.” Not the best conditions to watch a film all about simmering atmosphere and doom laden boredom. I want to enjoy my shock mermaid pussy and near-constant audible guffing in full focus. No wonder these pleb were bored and restless. The Lighthouse is a film without answers. You bring what you want to its mysteries. Fittingly for a film in high contrast monochrome, it is a bit of a Rorschach Test. You fill in the blanks. Obviously if you are a moron who needs to be lead to water you shan’t appreciate the craft of the puzzle or the endurance feat of the lead performances. This clearly wasn’t a comfortable location shoot. Would I have enjoyed Eggers sophomore effort more without the swirl of negativity at our screening? Possibly… though it is pretty thin. Marriage Story with facial hair, CastAway where wanking is more important than escape. You couldn’t put it down to laziness on his part though, nor his actors. What you find in the light or the darkness is up to you. If you don’t want to find your own horrors don’t peer into it for 110 minutes. But shut the fuck up if your mind is duller and more deafening than a foghorn blast.
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