Robert Eggers, the writer and director of 2015’s Puritan nightmare The Witch,  is back with another historic tale of terror.  The Lighthouse set in the 1890’s, is a film about two men on a desolate and distance rock of an island stationed as lighthouse keepers. Willem Defoe plays Thomas Wake, the senior lighthouse keep, a sea dog retired by injury but for whom the love of the sea has never subsided. Robert Patterson plays Ephraim Winslow, the young and junior man learning the trade and subject to Wake’s order and whim.

Filmed in stark black-and-white, it’s been reported that the film stock had to be manufactured in order for the camera to roll on this production, and with a tight compressed aspect ratio  The Lighthouse  is a confined claustrophobic movie with a stark spare setting contrasted with expansive performances by both Defoe and Patterson the threaten to shatter the frame. The photography is deliberately disorienting as sea, fog, and land blend in endless greys heightening the sense that the rest of the world as vanished over the horizon and that for these men there is nothing but the grueling work, their own clashes of personality, and the ever encroaching madness. The combination of Egger’s passion for historical detail, the bleak black and white cinematography, along with the ever present fog horn create a verisimilitude that absorbs the audience into the film’s reality.

Hallucinatory and with an unreliable narrator The Lighthouse  is not standard mass-market movie making. People who are expecting kills, jump scares, and a spot of violence every ten minutes are sailing for disappointment with this film. Closer in kin to David Lynch or Cronenberg’s Videodrome, The Lighthouse is a tale of madness and isolation that is powered by the stellar performances trapped with its close quarters. Much like Egger’s previous film The Witch  this movie is not easily accessible and is likely to spark a sharp divide between its critical reception and general audience reactions. Though not as symbolic as Lynch, Egger’s film requires active interpretation by the audience with scene after scene that depicts the tenuous grasp of sanity and its loss as the isolation breaks each man in his own manner. Personally I was more thrilled with The Witch on my first viewing but now even eight hours later I find the sounds and images of The Lighthouseto be haunting my thoughts and provoking deeper contemplation. It is a film that cannot be fully assessed with a single viewing and mark’s Eggers as a talent of bold cinema that is willing to color well outside of the lines.

The twin monster hits Frankenstein  and Dracula  made Universal Studios the home of horror in the 1930 thru the 1950s and stars of Boris Karloff and Bella Lugosi but a lesser know film of that same year that is worth viewing is the Spanish Language version of Universal’s Dracula.

While the principal cast and crew came in during the day and filmed the now classic 1931 Dracula during the evening hours an entirely different crew and cast, using the same set and script, albeit in Spanish, filmed a version for the Spanish language world. This version is often included as bonus content on Blu-rays and better collections featuring the Lugosi Dracula. Considered lost until the 1970’s when a print was discovered and fully restored.

With more daring costuming and a more sensual atmosphere this edition has fans around the world. It is interesting to compare the leads in each film. Lugosi, of course became a star, though of course his terrible drug addiction, first caused for pain treatment for wound he suffered in World War I, severely damaged his career and outside of the Spanish film world Carlos Villarias is virtually unknown. An interesting element to Villarias’ performance is that it strikes dramatically different tones as the characters shifts between charming and vampiric. When he is suave and sophisticated Villarias’ performance strikes me as superior to Lugosi’s, effortless carrying off the easy confidence and command of a person infused with his or her own sense of nobility. However when the blood lust and thirst takes the character Villarias’ performance becomes so overly expressed with his eyes bulging wide and his face contorting into strange expressions that the performance becomes comic and far inferior to Lugosi’s classic composure.

Released in 2017 Revenge  is a French movie about Jen (Matilda Lutz) her rich married boyfriend Richard (Kevin Janssens) and his pair of hunter pals Stan and Dimitri. Jen has flown with Richard to his isolated landed estate in the desert for a weekend affair but their assignation is interrupted by the early arrival of Stan and Dimitri who are to accompany Richard on a hunting trip. After an evening of music, dancing, and drink, Richard departs for business and while left alone Jen is raped by Stan and Dimitri does nothing to stop the assault. Richard attempts to buy Jen’s silence with a check but things spiral out of control until it becomes a fight for survival and revenge with Jen pitted against the three men.

Over all I found Revenge  to have not lived up to its hype. I remember hearing about from corners of my film community and it even played at a local micro-theater but I never got the chance to see it until watching it in Shudder. Despite being directed by a woman, Coralie Fargeat, the staging, costuming, and framing of Matilda Lutz struck me as overly objectifying. I never fully engaged empathically with Jen, her terrible plight, or her struggle and I think that comes down to two major factors. The first is the leering nature of the photography it seemed to constantly present Jen only something of a sexual desire keeping me at a distance from her as a character. The second major reason for my emotional disconnection is my shattering of disbelief when presented with unreal and impossible physical damage that characters not only survive and but remain fighting functional. It would appear that the scriptwriter has never been exposed to the concept of internal bleeding or exactly why you can’t run with your major abdominal muscles torn or ruptured.

My viewing coming quickly after another recent film on Shudder  about a young woman who has to survive after a terrible assault I could not help but compare this with The Corpse of Anna Fritz. Anna Fritz  while produced on a much smaller budget and with far fewer sequences of action, was a film where I never lost a tense and fearful emotional connection with the character of Anna. Watching Revenge  I was mostly bored but during Anna Fritz I was engaged and concerned, desperately hoping for Ann to escape this unjust and unfair situation. There is far more nudity in Anna Fritz  and yet it is presented in a manner that did not feel leering or objectifying but rather exposed and terrifying.

I cannot recommend Revenge and if you have Shudder  go with Anna Fritz  instead.