Crimson Peak: When Death is Not the End. By Trujillo Clemen

What happens when evil takes hold of the soul since childhood?

Crimson Peak, by the iconic director Guillermo del Toro, is a fascinating tale of gothic drama and horror intertwined with suspense. I remember watching it for the first time upon its release in 2015. I was instantly captivated by its spectacular setting, crafted with meticulous attention to the smallest detail. I must confess: I am a devoted fan of medieval and gothic stories, filled with magic, tragic romances, and, occasionally, happy endings.

I wrote this article because something deep inside me demanded it. Before sitting down to write, I immersed myself in the film once more and decided to do something unusual: I read the reviews it received at the time. I was surprised to find that they were mostly unenthusiastic, sharing a common denominator: they dismissed the plot as weak and predictable.

Those who regularly read my articles know that, rather than focusing on the visual or artistic effects of films, I am fascinated by analyzing the characters, their internal dramas, and the development of their archetypes through their light and shadows. As a good Jungian, I simply cannot help it. Therefore, I invite you to focus on the origin of this painful and mysterious gothic story.

The Mansion as a Reflection of the Shadow

The threads of the plot are woven by Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), a wealthy young heiress and aspiring writer; Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), a seductive and dark baronet; and his enigmatic sister, Lucille (Jessica Chastain). However, to me, the main character of the film is "Allerdale Hall," the ruined mansion of the Sharpes. She is the source of all evil: an entity driven by an insatiable hunger that devours everything dwelling within, until it ultimately devours itself.

During this second viewing, I focused on the story behind the story, guided by an essential question: What happens when evil takes hold of the soul since childhood?

The Sharpe siblings belong to a fallen English noble family. For as long as they can remember, they grew up under the shadow of an absent father, devoted to traveling and squandering the family fortune. Isolated and locked away in a sinister attic, the children were continuously punished by a mother whose heart had been corroded by bitterness. Having only each other, an incestuous relationship emerged from that isolation, shaping them into psychopaths, prisoners of a family heritage that consumes them over a slow fire.

When Death is Not the End…

Consumed by their own madness, the siblings see murder as the only escape from their financial ruin and existential voids. In their wake, they leave souls trapped in tragic deaths; specters who suffer the grief of having departed against their will, and whose only path to rest depends on communicating with the living.

From a psychological perspective, the history of Allerdale Hall is a perfect allegory of the human psyche: a dark, labyrinthine place plagued by ghosts of the past. Each specter represents a trauma, a secret, or a wound that has not yet healed. Just like the mansion, our own minds can devour us if we refuse to confront those ghosts and heal our wounds.

Consciousness, Abyss, and Weakness

Edith Cushing is the key to unraveling this metaphor. She possesses the faculty to see the ghosts, to connect with the past, and to unearth the secrets hidden beneath the red clay. Edith represents consciousness: the ability to look beyond the surface and venture into the depths of the soul.

What drives Lucille to be so cruel and ruthless? The answer lies in her childhood, in her father's abandonment, and her mother's cruelty. Lucille grew up in a toxic environment where affection was replaced by fear and resentment. Her relationship with Thomas is nothing more than a distorted manifestation of a deep need for connection; a twisted way to fill the emotional void she feels inside. Lucille is a complex and contradictory character: a victim of her past turned into a heinous perpetrator. She is intelligent and astute, but completely unhinged—a representation of how evil can entirely trap a being when the soul is corrupted from childhood.

Thomas, for his part, embodies ambiguity. He is a magnetic and charming man who conceals a dark and manipulative side, trapped between the luminous love he begins to feel for Edith and a blind loyalty toward his sister. He knows their actions are destructive, but he feels incapable of breaking the chains that bind him to Lucille. Thomas is a reflection of human weakness and the ease with which we can be dragged down by circumstances when we lose our own free will.

An Invitation to Look at Our Shadows

Crimson Peak transcends the boundaries of conventional horror. It is a beautiful reflection on human nature, the weight of the past, and the importance of confronting our own ghosts. It is a story about love, loss, redemption, and the capacity to find light in the darkness. A cinematic gem that deserves to be watched and analyzed thoroughly, paying close attention to every detail, every symbol, and every character.

In this film, Del Toro invites us to explore our shadows and reminds us that unhealed wounds insist on returning. And although the path toward the truth may be painful and terrifying, it is the only one that allows us to break free.

After all, within each of us always hide shadows that yearn to be integrated. This does not mean justifying them or indulging in them, but rather recognizing their existence, understanding their origin, and learning to manage them in a conscious and compassionate way. It is a process of deep self-exploration that requires courage, honesty, and a great deal of self-love, but in the end, it frees us from the chains of self-deception. It allows us to embrace our totality, with both its light and its shadows, so we can finally walk in peace.

"Never to suffer would never to have been blessed". Edgar Allan Poe.