Get ready for a movie experience that’s less a film and more a two-hour-long, black-and-white therapy session for men who smell of brine and regret. The Lighthouse takes us back to the 1890s, dumping two lighthouse keepers, or “wickies” as the old salts call ’em, on a desolate, windswept rock off the coast of New England. The elder, a grizzled sea dog named Thomas Wake, and the younger, a quiet, brooding former timberman named Ephraim Winslow, are supposed to tend the light for a four-week stretch. But before you can say “bad luck to kill a seabird,” a brutal storm blows in, stranding the pair and turning their already tense cohabitation into a horrifying descent into the kind of madness you only get when you run out of coffee and have nothing but turpentine to drink.
This is a film that asks the big questions: Is it horror? Is it a psychological thriller? Is it just two men who desperately need a hobby that doesn’t involve drinking kerosene and arguing about a damp floor? The tension between the two leads is so thick you could use it to caulk a leaky hull, and the movie delights in letting the audience guess what’s real and what’s just the isolation playing tricks. It’s an exhausting, claustrophobic watch, filmed in a boxy, old-timey aspect ratio that makes everything feel squashed and miserable. If you’re looking for a breezy Saturday night flick with a happy ending, you should have just stayed home and watched the nightly news—it’s less depressing, and the acting is probably better.
Review by Ben Dover
Let me tell you, I haven’t been this annoyed by two people cooped up together since my son’s college roommate wouldn’t stop playing that awful “mumble rap.” Director Robert Eggers has given us an unsettling, beautifully shot piece of cinematic torture called The Lighthouse. It’s a two-person play, really, about what happens when you take two already unstable men, put them on a rock the size of my backyard shed, and forbid them from having even a shred of common sense. You’d think being a lighthouse keeper would be a dignified, solitary job. Instead, we get Willem Dafoe, as the flatulent, old Thomas Wake, demanding his underling, played by Robert Pattinson, empty chamber pots and refusing to let him near the light. It’s a workplace dispute that escalates faster than a Twitter mob.
The movie is filmed in stark, gorgeous black-and-white, making everything look like a photo from my childhood—all doom and gloom. It’s got a weird, square frame, which I guess is supposed to make you feel “claustrophobic.” All it made me feel was like I was watching the movie through a mail slot. All that fancy technique is just window dressing for a story that is, at its core, a screaming match between a drunk, manipulative old man and a guilt-ridden, repressed younger man. They drink, they dance, they fight, they share secrets, and they even get a little… affectionate? Honestly, the whole thing gave me a headache. You just want one of them to get on the radio and call for a supervisor, but no, they have to descend into full-blown mythological madness about mermaids and Prometheus and a damn bird. Just talk to each other, you lunkheads!
And speaking of that “young Tommy,” Robert Pattinson spends the entire film looking like he’s about to cry, which is probably what the kids call “method acting” these days. He’s supposed to be playing a tough former lumberjack, but he looks like a college kid who just realized he’s all out of avocado toast. Dafoe, on the other hand, is a monstrous delight channeling his inner Green Goblin. His performance is a masterclass in chewing the scenery with a pirate’s accent. His monologues are the only parts that truly held my attention—he doesn’t just curse, he invokes ancient gods just to tell the young ‘un his cooking is lousy. If you’re going to lose your mind, you might as well do it with style. (Dafoe almost always does)
The film’s constant references to old-timey mythology and literature are clearly supposed to make it seem deep, like something those young film students will write papers about. But to me, it’s just two men with extremely poor coping skills. They could have been reading books, carving wood, or anything other than drinking turpentine and imagining tentacles. It’s a grueling watch that tests your patience as much as it tests the characters’ sanity. But I have to admit, by the end, when the truly insane stuff starts happening, it hooks you. It’s a pretentious nightmare, but it’s my kind of pretentious nightmare. It’s an art film that isn’t afraid to be dirty, disgusting, and genuinely scary. If you can handle the oppressive atmosphere and the sheer, unending misery, you’ll be rewarded with a film that’s impossible to shake. Just bring some industrial-strength earplugs for all the screaming.
Rating
3.5 out of 5 Pecking Seagulls
I hated every minute of watching this film, but I still have to admit it’s some quality art. I didn’t like either character which made it tough to care about their descent into madness, a lot of it felt like chaos for the sake of chaos, that said, its definitely ends up feeling like art for art’s sake rather than an enjoyable movie. Film fans should watch it, but prepare to feel ugly afterwards. It felt like I had just ran a marathon… and I am not a runner.
Starring
- Willem Dafoe as Thomas Wake: The older, demanding “wickie” who guards the light like it’s his wife. He’s a boisterous, flatulent, pipe-smoking salt of the earth who spins tall tales and drives his subordinate mad with his oppressive authority and endless chores. He’s the kind of boss who thinks yelling makes you a good leader.
- Robert Pattinson as Ephraim Winslow (who reveals his real name is Thomas Howard): The young, brooding, former timberman seeking a new trade and a clean slate. He is quiet, reserved, and quickly descends into resentment and paranoia under Wake’s tyrannical command. He’s a powder keg just waiting for a single, small spark.
- Valeriia Karaman as Mermaid: A surreal, haunting figure that appears in Winslow’s hallucinations and desires.
Meet the Lighthouse Keepers
The story is a two-man play centered on the intense and destructive relationship between two “wickies” (lighthouse keepers).
| Character | Who They Are |
| Thomas Wake | The older, grizzled keeper. Wake is a tyrannical, flatulent, and oppressive boss who spins tall tales and torments his subordinate with endless demeaning chores. He is fiercely possessive of the lantern room, which he forbids his assistant from ever entering. |
| Ephraim Winslow (Thomas Howard) | The younger, brooding assistant. A former timberman trying to escape a dark past, he is quiet and reserved but quickly grows resentful of Wake’s bullying. His simmering anger makes him a “powder keg” waiting to explode under the strain of isolation. |
By trapping these two volatile personalities on a desolate rock, the film creates a pressure-cooker environment where a simple workplace hierarchy is destined to collapse into a mythic struggle for dominance.
Special Effects and Music
The movie is a masterpiece of gritty, practical filmmaking, which is good because I hate that computer junk the kids use now. The Special Effects are mostly just good old-fashioned makeup, staging, and lighting. The hallucinations—of tentacles, a giant cyclops gull, and the terrifying, blazing light itself—are disturbing and wonderfully organic, not some digital sludge. The final, horrifying image of Winslow’s fate is a brutal, unforgettable use of practical effects. It looks like the kind of awful event you read about in a dusty, old newspaper.
The Music by Mark Korven is a relentless assault on the nerves. It’s not your typical catchy movie score; it’s a throbbing, unsettling noise—a low, discordant hum that sounds like a foghorn being played through a broken cello. It, along with the incredible sound design of the crashing waves and the deafening, bass-heavy thrum of the lighthouse machinery, is what truly makes the movie feel like a horror film. You can practically taste the salt and feel the damp chill. It’s all very effective, and very, very loud.
Complete Synopsis and Plot Breakdown
In the late 1890s, the taciturn Ephraim Winslow arrives on a remote, rock island off the coast of New England to begin a four-week stint as an assistant lighthouse keeper, or “wickie,” under the grizzled, flatulent, and tyrannical Thomas Wake, a former sailor. Wake immediately asserts his authority, assigning Winslow all the physically grueling, demeaning tasks—hauling kerosene, cleaning the station, emptying chamber pots, and whitewashing the tower—while forbidding him from entering the lantern room, which Wake tends nightly. Wake warns Winslow that it’s bad luck to kill a seabird, claiming they are reincarnated sailors, and mentions his previous wickie went mad and died.
As the weeks progress, the isolation, Wake’s relentless bullying, and the physical labor begin to wear on Winslow. He starts having strange, erotic hallucinations of a mermaid and finds a small scrimshaw of the creature. He grows increasingly resentful, believing Wake is purposefully trying to break him. When a one-eyed seagull persistently harasses Winslow, he snaps, brutally bludgeoning the bird to death against the rocks, an act which immediately triggers a violent, unending storm that prevents the tender from collecting them.
Stranded indefinitely, their cabin is nearly flooded, and they soon run out of kerosene and food. They discover a hidden crate of alcohol and proceed to get spectacularly, perpetually drunk, cycling through moments of bitter hatred, forced intimacy (singing, dancing), and paranoia. During a drunken confession, Winslow reveals his real name is Thomas Howard and that he is an escaped lumberjack who assumed the identity of the original Ephraim Winslow, whom he left to drown in a logging accident. Wake, who has been gaslighting and tormenting Howard, destroys their dinghy with an axe.
The two men devolve into full madness. Howard finds Wake’s logbook filled with lies that accuse him of incompetence and recommend his firing. In a rage, Howard attacks Wake, beating him severely before attempting to bury him alive. Wake curses him with a mythical warning, describing a Promethean punishment for those who gaze upon the light. Howard takes the keys and ascends the winding stairs to the lantern room. He opens the final door and is blasted by the blinding, divine light, which makes him scream and fall down the long staircase. The film ends with Howard alive but horribly wounded, lying nude at the base of the lighthouse, with seagulls—presumably the reincarnated sailors—pecking at his liver.
Famous Quotes from The Lighthouse
- “HAAAARK! Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime!”
- “Boredom makes men to villains, and the water goes quick, lad. Vanished. The only med’cine is drink. Keeps them sailors happy, keeps ’em agreeable, keeps ’em calm, keeps ’em…”
- “Bad luck to kill a seabird!”
- “You think you’re so damned high and mighty cause you’re a goddamned lighthouse keeper? Well, you ain’t a captain of no ship and you never was… and I’m sick of your laugh, your snoring, and your goddamned farts. Your damned goddamned farts. Goddamn yer farts!”
- “I’m damn-well wedded to this here light, and she’s been a finer, truer, quieter wife than any alive-blooded woman.”
Notes from the Movie
- Inspired by a Real Tragedy: The film was loosely inspired by the Smalls Lighthouse Tragedy of 1801, where two Welsh wickies, Thomas Howell and Thomas Griffith, were stranded together after Griffith died in an accident. Howell, fearing an accusation of murder, kept the body, and the isolation nearly drove him mad.
- Authentic Dialect: The unique, archaic, and verbose dialogue was meticulously crafted by the Eggers brothers (Robert and Max) based on 19th-century New England sailors’ vernacular, including the writings of Herman Melville and period lighthouse keeper journals.
- Orthochromatic Emulation: Cinematographer Jarin Blaschke shot the film on black-and-white 35mm stock using a custom cyan filter and lenses from the 1910s and 1930s to emulate the look of orthochromatic film. This type of film registers reds as black, which is why the characters’ lips and blood appear so dark and stark.
- The Aspect Ratio: The film was shot in the nearly square 1.19:1 aspect ratio, an extremely rare format used for early sound films. Director Robert Eggers chose it to emphasize the claustrophobia of the environment and force the actors closer together in the frame.
- Custom-Built Lighthouse: The entire 70-foot-tall lighthouse and the keeper’s cottage were custom-built for the movie on the rugged coastline of Cape Forchu, Nova Scotia, specifically to be battered by real storms. The light itself had a 2,000-watt bulb that was far brighter than a real period light, blinding the actors in wide shots.