The House Of The Spirits [1993]

On rare occasions, I get floored by how beautiful movies can be. Admittedly, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way. I think the sweet spot for the stunning beauty of cinema was the early 90’s to the mid 2000’s.

Somehow, the synergy of production design, lighting, cinematography, and just about every department in film production all just worked. This was a time when lighting really mattered. The natural palette of film stock mattered.

That saying, “They don’t make them like they used to.” Rings very true. They used to do it so much better.

The House Of The Spirits flew under the radar for me because well, the poster leaves a lot more to be desired. I’m almost a bit mad that they hid such a beautiful film behind one of the most atrocious posters ever, it’s almost criminal.

With all its other issues aside, including extreme condensing of the story from its novel form, somewhat lackluster script, the high caliber albeit very white cast for non-white characters, notably Jeremy Irons in a weird tan and a unibrow… It’s a gorgeous film. The imperfect fall off of the lenses, the opulent set decorating, the mystical lighting, the meticulously detailed composition that look like actual paintings, all together had me remembering why I was so besotted with film as a medium.

The genre of the story is magical realism, and although the script failed to capture the subtle absurdist humor, the look and feel of it was indeed magical. A large part of this was how the art team managed to fill every frame with ornament. Layered textiles cascade over flower arrangements, little glass trinkets provide just enough sparkle to a scene to make give a sense of mystique. Lighting wise, nothing was ever too harsh, but it also wasn’t flat. Everything was illuminated just the right amount.

So this is the first film appreciation post in what I think will be a series as I discover or rediscover movies made right.