Ghosting Has Never Been More Literal
Every so often, a film comes along that defies simple description. These films (Shane Carruth’s Upstream Color and Jonathan Glazer’s Under the Skin are two that immediately come to mind) are generally somewhat divisive between their audience, either leaving them frustratingly perplexed or enraptured with their hypnotic spell. I experienced a similar feeling coming out of David Lowery’s stunning A Ghost Story. What is sure to be one of the most divisive things to grace cinema screens this year, is one of those films that will linger in your mind, regardless of your take on it. Viewers looking for an accessible narrative and simple explanations will, say the least, be significantly short changed. However, for those willing to be a little more patient and are willing to let the film take you with it, the rewards defy description.
Admittedly, there isn’t much in the way of plot in A Ghost Story. It’s much more experimental in nature, taking a simple concept and using it as a platform to explore more complex ideas. Rooney Mara and Casey Affleck play an unnamed couple (they’re defined as ‘M’ and ‘C’, respectively, in the closing credits) on the verge of moving out of their suburban house. M is eager to move on to other pastures, while C is much less enthused, as a result of having a strange, close connection to the house. The next morning, we find C has been killed in a car crash outside their house. C soon returns to his home, albeit as a ghost, haunting his grieving wife as she attempts to come to terms with the tragedy.
The plot comes somewhat secondary to themes and feelings in A Ghost Story. The film wants to probe sensations within you just as much as it wants to probe ideas within your head. The film’s most distinctive image (the one that will doubtless inspire many minimalist Halloween costumes this year), is that of the person under a white sheet. As naff as that might initially seem, the idea of utilising the form of the literal, child-like perception of a ghost (as opposed to a CG, spirit-like figure) is extremely effective in carrying across ideas that could realistically only be carried across through emotion and feeling. Sometimes, the most powerful ideas are the ones that you feel, rather than the ones you are told. Lowery understands this, and his soulful, nearly wordless approach (combined with a gorgeous, hypnotic score by Daniel Hart) truly leaves its mark.
Also more than leaving their mark are two bold performances in the form of Mara and Affleck. Mara, continuing her seemingly endless winning streak after last month’s Una, perfectly encapsulates the complex feelings of loss and grief to heartbreaking effect. Admire the depth Mara infuses into a simple action of M eating a whole pie for a good 5 minutes (undoubtedly the film’s major water cooler moment). What could have been an exercise in unintentional hilarity and tedium instead works as a surprisingly affecting character moment under Mara’s hands. With an even more demanding role, Affleck takes his reputation as a nuanced actor to new extremes. Having to convey characterization under a white sheet using body language is not the easiest thing to do, not to mention make work effectively. Affleck does it though, leaving a surprisingly complex impression. This minimalist approach will undoubtedly alienate many viewers, but its mesmerising effect is undeniable.
A Ghost Story is a ghost story; at least on a surface level. It’s also many other things. It’s a love story, a grief story, a life story, a time story. Its mind is focused on The Big Questions; on asking them and then proceeding to explore how we ourselves explore them. Lowery handles all of this in a confident and assured manner. With this being a film with time on its mind, it’s aptly a film that will garner more appreciation and purpose over time. Answers aren’t easily given. Just when you think you’ve got somewhat of a handle on what it’s really talking about, the third act proceeds to throws you for a six, forcing you to rethink your take on what’s come before it. Like you would with a Lynch film, you’ll get the most satisfaction from A Ghost Story when you just sit back and let it wash over you.
On a purely sensory level, A Ghost Story is a feat of wonder. The film’s other distinctive feature is that of its boxy, vignetted aspect-ratio. What could have come across as being arty for art’s sake instead is one of the film’s most effective tools, conveying its emotional power in a totally unique way. The squared image frames the images to perfection and makes us feel as if we’re observing a display in an art gallery as opposed to purely watching a film. The sound design is similarly put to excellent use, coating the film in a hypnotic atmosphere that immerses you entirely into its world.
There are many that will dismiss A Ghost Story as being a pretentious, tedious attempt at profound existentialism. Admittedly there are moments, particularly throughout its middle section, where it does somewhat straddles the line of tedium and trips over its own pretensions (the midsection monologue about time is almost amusingly too on the nose). But even when A Ghost Story seemed to overreach its grasp, there was not a second in it that I wasn’t utterly captivated and fascinated by what is an intoxicatingly bravura piece of filmmaking. Great films often leave you confounded in a way that makes you want to dive straight back into it and pull it all apart. Such is the case of A Ghost Story, a miracle of a film that proves once again how the power of cinema can take you to places you never thought possible.