I watched Crimson Peak on a rainy Tuesday night. Lights off. Blanket on. I rented it on Apple TV, made hot cocoa, and settled in. My cat, Nori, took the arm of the couch like a tiny gargoyle. I thought I’d be scared silly. If you want the condensed version of my reaction, I actually put together a spoiler-free rundown over at Crimson Peak gave me chills.
Here’s the thing: I wasn’t terrified. But I was spellbound.
So, what is it?
It’s a gothic ghost story by Guillermo del Toro. Think big house, dark halls, old secrets. Mia Wasikowska plays Edith. Tom Hiddleston is Thomas. Jessica Chastain is Lucille, and she steals scenes like it’s nothing. It leans more romance and mood than full-on horror. More candlelight and whispers than jump scares. And that’s not a bad thing—just different. It fits perfectly into the kind of candlelit dread I talked about in my night with gothic horror.
Curious what the wider critical world thinks? The aggregated reviews on Rotten Tomatoes paint a similarly atmospheric picture—rich visuals applauded, story debates aplenty.
How I watched it
I paused once, right after the first ghost shows up. Not because I was too scared, but because I wanted to breathe and, yeah, whip some whipped cream into my cocoa. The sound of the house creaking felt like my old radiator. You know what? I liked that. It felt lived in.
What it felt like
The house—Allerdale Hall—felt like a person. It breathes. It groans. The roof is open, so leaves fall inside like red snow. Actual red shows up a lot. The clay under the house seeps up and stains the snow. It looks like blood, but it’s not blood. It’s clay. That stuck in my head all night. The chilly, slow-burn tension reminded me of the winter-bound unease in We Are Still Here.
Real moments that got me
- The bathtub scene: a wet, black ghost creeps up slow. I was sure it would jump. It doesn’t. It just watches. I sank into the couch.
- The elevator: the sound it makes is like a sigh. When it drops, my cat jumped. I laughed out loud.
- The wax cylinder: Edith plays an old recording. A dead wife speaks from a hiss of static. I leaned closer without even thinking.
- The kitchen: a knife on a table, a red stain on the floor, and Lucille’s face calm as ice. My stomach twisted a bit.
- The end in the snow: a shovel, white ground, red clay bleeding through. The wind bites. The camera lingers. I could almost feel the cold.
Del Toro has always insisted that Crimson Peak is less about powerless damsels and more about giving its heroine real agency; he even joked to Time that he “armed the damsel with a knife.” You can dig into that insight in their feature on the film.
That slow, watchful approach to haunting feels spiritually akin to the mother-centric dread of Mama (2013), another film that knows a quiet corridor can be scarier than any jump scare.
Stuff I loved
- The house design: the hole in the roof, the mold on the walls, the sinking floor. It’s art.
- Costumes: the silk gowns, the tight collars, the gloves. You can hear fabric whisper when they move.
- Color: white snow, red clay, black halls. It tells the story without words.
- The score: soft strings, a waltz that turns cruel.
- Jessica Chastain: sharp eyes, quiet rage. Every line lands.
Stuff that bugged me
- The ghosts look a bit shiny sometimes. A touch too much CG for my taste.
- The plot is pretty easy to guess by the middle. I called one twist while stirring my cocoa.
- The pacing sags a bit in the second act. I checked the time once.
- The love story feels thin. Pretty, but light.
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Who should watch this?
If you like The Others or old-school haunted tales, this hits. If you want lots of jump scares, maybe not. It’s more candlelit doom than loud shock. If nocturnal solo viewings are your thing, consider pairing it with the bleak folk horror of The Witch or the courtroom chills of The Exorcism of Emily Rose—both deliver very different but equally potent frights. For more musings on elegantly spooky films, swing by AllFlesh where cinephiles dissect atmosphere like it’s an art form.
Small, handy tips
- Watch with good sound. The house noises matter.
- Keep the lights low. The colors pop in the dark.
- October watch? Perfect. Rain helps, too.
A quick nerd note (but simple)
The production design is top notch. The blocking—where people stand and move—keeps your eyes working. The color grading leans red and gold, then cold blue at the end. It’s careful work. You can feel it.
Final take
Crimson Peak didn’t terrify me. It haunted me. I kept seeing that red snow when I tried to sleep, and hearing that soft elevator sigh. I’d give it a strong 7.5 out of 10. For mood and beauty, it’s a 10. For pure scares, maybe a 6.
Would I watch it again? Yep. On a cold night, with cocoa, blanket, and Nori pretending she’s the queen of Allerdale Hall. And honestly, she kind of is.