She’s a venomous and widow that is alienated the movies matriarchal revenant, whom sits under a ghastly guise of frayed grey locks and suffocating dust – “I’m yellow epidermis and bone” she breathes – who is probably the living, yet exists such as a nature loitering long following the gates have actually closed. She mirrors the blanched contours associated with Sharpe’s mom, whom following a cleaver towards the mind occupies Crimson Peak as both an ill-omened artwork and a ghost marred with rusted epidermis. Trapped inside the wailing walls of Allerdale Hall, writhing forth from creaky floorboards to alert Edith of this fate that is grizzly awaits her.
A reflection of Miss Havisham’s palatial estate in Great Expectations after the brutal murder of her father at the hands of a mysterious figure, Edith elopes with Thomas and rushes off to his dilapidated yet opulent estate, its decayed decadence. Exposed paneling and corroded paint line the membrane layer of Crimson Peak, a deconstructed skylight ushering in dropping snowfall or leaves as it peers upon its bleak cavity. A residing thing built through the ground up as being a marvel of set design that provides the movie tangibility, one necessary in allowing Crimson Peak to feel a boundless inside the genre.
It is here where Edith becomes frail and literally suffers (an indication of poison, nevertheless), ceasing in lots of ways to occur as she renders her writing back.