Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Alex Thompson, Kelly O'Sullivan
Starring: Keith Kupferer, Tara Mallen, Katherine Mallen Kupferer, Dolly De Leon
Acting - being on stage, pretending (and, in a lot of cases, being
really good at pretending) to be someone else in a made-up context as
everyone who watches wilfully plays along - it's wild, really.
Sometimes, sitting in the audience of a show, there's that vertiginous
moment when the suspension of disbelief wavers, the dream breaks, and
you recognise that you're watching a construction. Objectively you are
able to acknowledge this acutely human, shared interaction of actor,
audience and the fiction created between both: the rehearsal of
recognised emotions, a restaging of our selves. A kind of magic. Ah man,
if it wasn't for a crippling shyness I should have been an actor. After
all, I'm a born show off, addicted to play, and, the sordid truth of the
matter, a person who would utterly revel in the control acting affords,
both within the pre-scripted scenario and the abiding influence over an
audience.
Likewise, in Kelly O'Sullivan and Alex Thompson's (from a
screenplay by O'Sullivan) tremendous Ghostlight, the pull of acting for main character Dan (Keith Kupferer) is
the "chance at being somebody else for a while." It takes all sorts I
know, but Dan is positioned as the diametric opposite of a thespian. A
construction worker in a busy city, his life is holding the line on
urban highways as cars aggressively race past: the only reprieve is when
he is called into his daughter's (Daisy - Keith's real life offspring
Katherine Mallen Kupferer) school by wife Sharon (Tara Mallen), as the former has hit a teacher. Later, accidentally wandering into
an amateur company working towards Romeo and Juliet, nonplussed Dan
finds himself cast as the male lead. Why not? It's an escape, if nothing
else. As Puck like producer and female lead Rita (Dolly De Leon)
ponders, "Art finds you"...
While Dan warms to his role, we see the production develop along with
the effects his new-found interests have upon his home life. Aside from
the pristine direction and the supreme performances, what impresses most
about Ghostlight is how measured the film is, both in
terms of its gradual narrative and eventual emotional reveals. It's
funny, ostensibly: when asked by her parents why she isn't going to
audition for the school musical, foul mouthed Daisy snaps back, "Because
it's fucking stupid"; she also knowingly refers to Luhrmann's
Romeo and Juliet as a "classic.... old but good." But
Daisy's vitriol is masking a deeper pain, an incomprehensible heartbreak
which is shared by the family and carefully hinted at throughout the
film. The early juxtaposition between Dan's budding hobby and Daisy's
mysterious lack of interest in a previous passion is characteristic of
Ghostlight's use of parallels to create profound and, ultimately, devastating
meanings: most intensely in the narrative relevance of the tragedy Dan
will soon perform (a quick aside - it is cool how the incongruity of
Romeo and Juliet's age and the relative vintage of the people playing
them is barely touched upon. Because it shouldn't be - it's called art,
not real life. To those thick racists/sudden Shakespeare experts making
a disingenuous fuss on social media over the casting in Jamie Lloyd's
irl recent production of the same play: it's not for you: fuck
off).
In another instance of mimesis, this indie joyfully replicates the
energy of am-dram productions, not in its uniformly excellent
performances, but its dog-eared authenticity and sincere intimacy. There
really is nothing like amateur theatre: the bliss of discovery, the
community, the pure love of it all. Ghostlight captures
this enthusiasm in scenes of joyous rehearsals and cast bonding. I loved
how acutely earnest it is, how deeply felt (I wondered what a British
take on such material may involve and shuddered, imagining patronising
parochialism and a smugness completely absent from
Ghostlight). At times the film is so vividly, naturally emotive it feels as if
one is spying on the characters through a slightly grimy neighbourhood
window. A final analogy: imagine watching this meditation on grief and
acceptance if you were undergoing a similar situation. I reckon you
would be grateful for the catharsis O'Sullivan and Thompson's film
entails... Art finds you, indeed. And I hope that you too find
Ghostlight.
Ghostlight is in US cinemas from
June 14th. A UK/ROI release has yet to be announced.
