This review is best enjoyed spoken in shanty tongue, with the harsh taste of scotch and the barreling sounds of lashing waves.

Consider the subtle nature of the sea:

How its most nefarious creatures glide under water,

silent and vacant beneath the sky’s gaze.

Think not of the white shark whose teeth tear hand from arm,

nor the whale who swallows sailors whole,

for the creatures of the deep do tear and bite,

but the heart of man is colder

than the sea on a pale moon’s night.

A pummeling of waves and a ramshackle wrath drowns any dastardly hope that screenwriter and director brothers, Max and Robert Eggers (The Witch), have acquired mercy in Robert’s second outing. Withdrawn and alone with only lichened ledges left to stand, two lighthouse keepers (the spellbinding duo Willem Dafoe and Robert Patterson) abseil into madness as a superstitious storm wreaks havoc over their sealocked island.

The Eggers waltz into the tale’s setting with the utmost care; its the accuracies forthright and intended. The Lighthouse’s set is a vivid recreation of a dream-like past, with clothing stitched from the same yarn, and filtred through period-appropriate lenses and film.

The shanty dialect and dialogue breeze off Max’s screenplay to Dafoe and Robertson’s seasoned tongues melodically, though on occasion lines may sail past the most seasoned listeners, when fixated on during intrepid monologues it harkens damnings of biblical proportions.

Nautical lore and myths bubble beneath the terror and dread of the lighthouse keepers’ faces as they remain stranded, surrounded only by pitiful sea and feverishly legging around bare rock that is too scarce to produce resources. The greatest threat faced is the keepers’ frailing sanity, which is constantly harassed by murky visions of gothic malice.

Folie à deux, a madness shared by two, and shared by Willem Dafoe (Platoon, The Florida Project) and Robert Patterson (Good Time, Twilight) it is. Both actors bring powerhouse performances in their nuances and their excessiveness, Dafoe is manic and provoking as the wind-worn keeper, born by salt and kissed by sea, whilst Patterson is frenetic and pessimistic as the newly appointed helper, hiding and seeking simultaneously. Their jargon and squabbles take feverish turns, and on occasion romantic, in career highlights Dafoe and Patterson jab, cackle and descend into madness as their emotions and hatred lurch to catastrophic heights and crash like a billowing wave.

As a swirling light and fog-horn scream to distinguish sea from rock, The Lighthouse looks and sounds unique and distinguished. As aforementioned, Eggers’ painstaking efforts for accuracy resulted in the usage of 1930‘s film lenses and 35mm film stock, grafted with regular collaborator Jarin Blaschke’s cinematography, creates a unique and daring visual experience, each frame a gorgeous painting of grey-hued misanthropy.

Mark Korven’s macabre soundtrack sways with the eastern wind and screams with the sirens. Droning horns embark from the deep dark below and meet at the surface with piercing strings, like a drowning sailor’s guttural scream caped by tossed waves.

There is a terror that bellows beyond the lighthouse itself; the screaming waves, the mystic never-ending waters, and the cold telltale hearts of its inhabitants. The Lighthouse is akin to classic horror literature: faithless and faceless hatred on a dark stormy night, treacherous crimes orchestrated by deranged minds, and creatures that lurk in the dark. The Lighthouses best scares come from an idea or representation more than a face of fright. Robert Eggers has proven yet again that he is a master of his crafts, and with Max Eggers screenplay it’s evident this talent runs in their blood. The Eggers blood is thicker than water, but their sea is a devilish one too.

 4 out of 5 lobster-based meals

hey Perth film enthusiasts, The Lighthouse is screening at the UWA Somerville Auditorium as part of the Lotterywest Films Perth Festival, from Mon 13 - Sun 19 Jan. Get your tickets here.