[rating=9.00]
The first thing you need to know about A Ghost Story is that it is not, in fact, a ghost story. At least not in the way you might be expecting. At first glance, looking solely at the marketing campaign which heavily features a besheeted Casey Affleck, you might anticipate that this is the next film in the line of recent heady horror (see also: The Witch, It Comes at Night), but you’d be wrong.
Horror as we know it is far from this cinematic koan. The only terror you’ll find here is the dread of life itself (which, I suppose, can be pretty terrifying, but that’s another discussion). This is a story about life, love, loss, and the passage of time.
Affleck stars as the recently deceased C, who rises from his morgue table covered in a sheet and returns to the home he shared with his girlfriend, M (Rooney Mara). There he watches as she begins her grieving process and tries to move on, and is soon taken on a journey through and around time.
The sparse narrative of A Ghost Story is punctuated by moments of stark poeticism by director David Lowery. Long shots of hallways and emotion-filled faces fill the moments and tell a tale unto themselves, revealing the broken faces of grief as the living move from the dead and on with their lives. Mara gives a masterful performance, bringing true depth to her role.
The oft-discussed “pie scene,” which finds the actress sitting alone on the floor eating pie for upwards of five minutes while her ghost of a lover watches quietly in the background, stands out as the perfect example of Lowery’s take on the subject matter. It’s uncomfortable, confusing, and more than a little heartbreaking to watch. Anyone who’s dealt with the process of bereavement will recognize the pain in the scene, where M tries hard to feel anything else, or at the very least distract herself from all feeling, through her indulgence.
Adding to the emotional effect of the film is the beautifully haunting score from Daniel Hart. Using musical tropes familiar with the horror genre—shaky strings, trembling crescendos, mournful tremolos—Hart adds to Lowery’s poetic vision with stunning effect. The film moves largely to his rhythms, making for a visual-musical experience.
Indeed, large swaths of the film move without dialogue, relying solely on a subtle movement of a sheeted head and haunting strings to tell the emotional heart of A Ghost Story. It’s not quite a silent film, but the influence is hard to ignore. Much of the dialogue that does occur is mere background noise, part of the overall design rather than the focus of the film itself.
While a difficult nut to crack, A Ghost Story is still one of the most hauntingly effective meditations of grief and love to come out in years. This is a film that begs your attention, and that’s not a difficult request to concede. Every frame feels packed with nuance and meaning, drawing the audience into its stunningly emotional lyricism. It’s not a film for everyone, but for fans of headier, independent works, A Ghost Story is truly the stand out film of the year.
A Ghost Story is now playing in theaters everywhere.
