It's no secret that I love horror films. I really do go crazy for a good slasher flick/gore fest every now and again, but the ones I really love are the quieter, more suspenseful and cerebral scary movies. Stoker fell quite perfectly into the second category, playing more on the audience's interest in the characters than their appetite for brutality. Plus, the film is stunning. I mean, stunning. This is an aspect of horror films that is often glazed over, favouring "sexy breakdown" (oh, what, you never noticed how the female lead's shirt always rips to expose some midriff and her likely heaving, dirt-sculpting-her-cleavage breasts? Sexy breakdown. It's a thing.) and dark locations to any real sense of style or atmosphere... I mean, other than anything you could call "dank". God that's a gross word. Dank.
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| I want to read in a giant wicker Hershey's Kiss!! |
Though I managed to only hear about Stoker after it had been in theatres for over a month, I'm not going to go ahead and assume you've all gone out and seen it, and so I won't get too far into the plot and give away the nitty gritty, and will instead focus on the design elements of the film, which surprise surprise, I was totally in love with. For the sake of context, however, here's a brief synopsis I lifted from my local movie theatre's website:
When her father Richard (Dermot Mulroney) is killed in a car accident, India Stoker (Mia Wasikowska) is left with to deal with her emotionally abusive mother Evie (Nicole Kidman). Soon after, a man who calls himself her Uncle Charlie (Matthew Goode), whom she never knew existed, moves in. The solitude of their woodsy family estate and the peace of their tranquil town are suddenly upended.
Although India hopes Charlie will fill the void left by her father's death, she soon comes to suspect that this mysterious, charming man has ulterior motives.
I think that last line gives you a pretty good idea what kind of scary movie this is: very much a Hitchcockian slow burner. It let's you get comfortable with your surroundings before it pulls the carpet out from beneath you - and it makes certain that those surroundings are deceptively welcoming and warm. And I've just now realized how few production stills there are of this movie. Shame!
The locations in the film, both indoors and out (but particularly indoors) are immaculately put together, and provide an essential sense of tranquility, in the designs by Thérèse DePrez. There's a heavy influence of mid-century architecture in the furnishings that initially confused Ephraim "Is this a period film or is it just designed strangely?", which I took to be a comment on the recently deceased father figure. We learn early on that Richard Stoker was a prolific architect, and as we see more of his house, the landscaping, and his personal belongings, his aesthetic - clean, relatively minimal with a love of natural materials - makes it clear that though we may not get to know the character well through a personal presence in the film, we can come to understand much of him by what he has left behind. Indeed, the only real clutter in Richard's office, are an abundance of tokens from his bonding experiences with India.
The costumes are, of course, a key way to learn about the characters, and the costumes of Stoker, designed by appropriately mysterious duo Kurt and Bart (and yes, those are the only names offered) tell us a great deal about the personalities of individual characters, while relating them all to one another as well as the scenery.
Uncle Charlie is often smart, clean and tidy, but always with an air of the casual; a button up with no tie, the top button unbuttoned. He looks put together in a way that feels predetermined, like a man who only owns neutrals so that everything can be paired together and he never has to think about it. There is a sense of calculation behind it, but more in the pragmatic sense that if he has no real sense of style, he frees his mind up to contemplate other things.
Uncle Charlie is often smart, clean and tidy, but always with an air of the casual; a button up with no tie, the top button unbuttoned. He looks put together in a way that feels predetermined, like a man who only owns neutrals so that everything can be paired together and he never has to think about it. There is a sense of calculation behind it, but more in the pragmatic sense that if he has no real sense of style, he frees his mind up to contemplate other things.
India, clad entirely in soft neutral colours impeccably tailored within an inch of their lives - including many pieces I would kill to have in my closet - seems entirely comfortable within her rigid wardrobe. Every year for her birthday, India has been gifted a pair of saddle shoes, which she wears until her next birthday, pairing them with airy silk frocks with crisp pleating, shirts buttoned to the very top button; a wardrobe where everything goes with everything else. Sound familiar?
Beyond the set and costume design of this film, the cinematography and editing lended themselves to creating stunning images the whole way through; though the latter is certainly something that has to be seen to be understood. I can't recall the last time the first words out of my mouth after a movie were "That was incredibly edited. Just beautiful". If these insights have piqued your interest, I really urge you to see the film, I promise you I have only scratched the surface. The story, performances, and direction were all spot on. So take a chance on a "scary" movie; you just might be blown away by what Stoker has to offer.
--Erin
