Originally published in Cinema Knife Fight, February 7, 2012
THE WOMAN IN BLACK (2011), directed by relative unknown (to the average
moviegoer, at least), James Watkins (his only other directing effort was 2008′s EDEN
LAKE), is a remake of a 1989 British TV-movie of the same name.
I’ve never seen the original, but I’m very glad to have seen the remake,
starring Daniel Radcliffe (Harry himself from the HARRY POTTER film
series, 2001-2011) and Ciaran Hinds (THE
RITE, 2011 and the HBO series ROME). It’s been a very
long time since a movie has truly scared me, to the point where I was sometimes
cringing in my seat. Yes, there were a few “Ahh!” moments of things popping out
and making me jump, but THE
WOMAN IN BLACK did most of its scares the “old-fashioned”
way, with eerie settings, subtle music and long build-ups to many of the
frights. It succeeded often enough that I developed a good respect for the film.
THE WOMAN IN BLACK is, in just about every way, an homage to the atmospheric
Gothic films that have mostly faded into the woodwork with the advent of big
budget effects and the popularity of slasher and torture films. That’s a fancy
way of saying it takes time to build up steam. Radcliffe plays a
late-nineteenth century apprentice in a law firm, Arthur Kipps, who is on thin
ice with his employers since falling into a depression after losing his wife a
few years earlier, in childbirth with their only son, Joseph (played with quiet
sincerity by Misha Handley—it’s the boy’s his first film and, for trivia buffs,
he is Radcliffe’s godson in real life).
As a way of redeeming himself to the firm,
Kipps is assigned to go through the voluminous stack of papers left behind by
an old widow to verify there are no more recent documents to contradict her
will. He leaves his son in the care of a nanny and travels by train to a
sleepy, remote hamlet, the location of many a Gothic tale. Adding to the
seclusion, the widow’s home (where the paperwork is waiting) sits alone on an
island cut off from the village by a tidal bog. Twice a day, the tide rolls in
and cuts off access to the house completely. The home—a massive, sprawling
estate reminiscent of Poe’s “House
of Usher”—is reachable only at low tide via a narrow, winding
road. The townspeople are less than welcoming to Kipps when he arrives at the
only Inn in town, forcing him to stay in the attic room where, we learn in the
film’s opening sequence, three children recently jumped to their deaths.
The town is dreary and wet, filled with tension
as every townsperson glares menacingly at the young lawyer. The movie truly
shines (in a manner of speaking) whenever Radliffe’s character crosses the
moors and enters the old mansion. The sets here were amazing. Gorgeous, but
not in a glamorous, shiny way. No, the home was dark, dusty and damp, but
beneath the surface were signs (paintings on walls, decorative woodwork) that
this was once a thriving, radiant place, stunning to behold. Not now. But
that’s what makes this film so amazing to watch. How do I explain this…? Have
you ever walked through an antique store and come across a few items, or more
than a few, caked in dust or discarded on a shelf, but emanating a kind of
old-life to them, as if once upon a time they were loved and cherished objects?
If not, then skip ahead… that’s how every room, every carefully-chosen prop
came across as the camera panned alongside Kipps as he moved about the house.
Everything about the place looked real.
(Maybe, as a side note, they were real—in
other words, Radlciffe wasn’t walking through a green room where everything
around him was added later —I honestly felt there was little to no CGI in this
film, aside from a few moments with our resident spook, but even then I wonder,
as I’ll explain in a moment). Simply gorgeous to behold and experience.
Now this, dear reader, is the canvas where the
filmmakers painted the fear across the screen. I mentioned there were far less
jump-out scares here than in a modern horror film (there were some, in
moderation), but one joy in watching this film is how many subtle clues and
scares had been inserted into a scene without any fanfare. These might appear
on screen for a second at most (for example, as the young lawyer reaches the
front door for the first time—Linda didn’t noticed what was on the door, but I
did). If he’s walking through the house, pay attention to the
background—the background is
where many of the scares happen. When they do, with a few exceptions, you
will not hear
a Shayamalan-esque Ba-Doom! orchestral
shock. Blink and you’ll miss it. And I like that.
A benefit of putting so many subtle cues and
creeps in the background is in the overall effect they produce in this large,
haunted house—one of dread, the most important ingredient of a Gothic horror
story.
The story does pick up steam, more and more as
the events unfold, though even this momentum is tempered by restraint. It never
goes completely over the top, although the climactic nursery scene with
Radcliffe and the woman in black is quite frightening. It scared me, at least.
Daniel Radcliffe has a good screen presence as
a sad, beleaguered lawyer struggling with depression. Watching him face one
supernatural event after another, however, I wanted more fear to show on
his face. More terror to work its way across his countenance. Sorry, but if I
was caught in some these situations I would have looked a hell of a lot more
frightened. They could have at least showed a wet spot on his pants (maybe they
did, I wouldn’t put it past the director to do so and not make a big deal of
it). Closer to the end of the film, Radcliffe’s character looked more
frightened, but his expression was too neutral in the earlier scenes.
Two of the best performances in the film are
by Ciaran Hinds as the wealthiest resident in town, Mr. Daily, and Janet McTeer
(TIDELAND,
2005, and more recently in ALBERT
NOBBS, 2011) as his wife. Like Kipps, Mrs. Daily is dealing
with the death of a loved one, her young son. So much, that she is convinced
the boy is communicating with her from the dead. These two characters shine
like the sun, which rarely comes out in the village. Mr. Daily does not believe
in the superstition the townspeople are traumatized by: that if someone lays
eyes on the infamous “Woman in Black,” one of the children in town dies. As
these very things unfold during the film, even he is hard-pressed to deny what
is happening, much less convince young Kipps, who has encountered the spirit
first-hand.
How scary is the otherworldly star of the
film, the woman in black? Scary as anything I’ve seen in a long time. Mostly
because they are very careful to show her from a distance, or in brief
glimpses. There might have been times when the ghost was CGI, but like I
mentioned earlier, I do not think there were many instances of this. I think
there was an actress in scary makeup standing in the shadow of the doorway,
moving down the hall, hiding in the dark. Our brains recognize real from
computer-generated in films, and she is much scarier for it.
I’ve been careful to not reveal too much of
the overall plot or subplots of the film, since I think you’ll enjoy the movie
more if you discover the secrets along with Mr. Kipps. Overall, THE WOMAN IN BLACK is
a smart, clever horror movie, original and frightening among so many
predictable, unfrightening others. It’s a film that’s also a joy to watch—sets
as lavish as Dickens’ description of Miss Havisham’s parlor and an atmosphere
as dread-inducing as that in BURNT
OFFERINGS (1976). Now, the word “subtle” is prevalent in
this review, because of the nature of this kind of film. THE WOMAN IN BLACK is
a smart movie, dark in mood, and doesn’t force you to notice everything about
it that is scary. You need to pay attention, and be patient as the mood builds.
Because of this, those who like their horror films fast-paced like a roller
coaster might be bored in parts, especially in the beginning, when Kipps first
arrives in town. But that’s how most Gothics play out, and in this case, the
pay-off is so, so creepy.
I give this film 4 Shaking Candlesticks out of 5,
because I was so pleased to be so creeped out sitting in the movies again.