She’s a venomous and alienated widow, the movies matriarchal revenant, whom sits under a ghastly guise of frayed grey locks and suffocating dust – “I’m yellow skin and bone” she breathes – who is amongst the living, yet exists such as a nature loitering long after the gates have actually closed. She mirrors the blanched contours for the Sharpe’s mother, whom after a cleaver to your mind occupies Crimson Peak as both an ill-omened artwork and a ghost marred with rusted epidermis. Trapped in the wailing walls of Allerdale Hall, writhing forth from creaky floorboards to alert Edith associated with the fate that is grizzly awaits her.
A reflection of Miss Havisham’s palatial estate in Great Expectations after the brutal murder of her father at the hands of a mysterious figure, Edith elopes with Thomas and rushes off to his dilapidated yet opulent estate, its decayed decadence. Exposed paneling and corroded paint line the membrane layer of Crimson Peak, a deconstructed skylight ushering in falling snowfall or leaves as it peers upon its bleak cavity. Continue reading