Courtney Howard // Film Critic
THE ETERNAL DAUGHTER
Rated PG-13, 1 hour and 36 minutes
Directed by: Joanna Hogg
Starring: Tilda Swinton, Carly-Sophia Davies, Joseph Mydell, Louis
With THE ETERNAL DAUGHTER, Joanna Hogg and Tilda Swinton not only continue building out their stirring SOUVENIR-verse, but turn in a beautifully understated, evocative elegy on the nature of grief and the ghosts that haunt us. It’s a slow-burning mood piece where a fog-covered, gothic-like atmosphere advances its poignant narrative designs. The pair craft cozy claustrophobia that all at once feels enveloping, enriching and totally absorbing.
Now middle age, filmmaker Julie Hart (Swinton) is desperately searching for her next project and thinks returning with her elderly mother Rosalind (Swinton) to their family’s beloved, remote vacation estate, now a countryside hotel, would provide some creative inspiration. She’s got it all perfectly planned out: write during the day and share dinners together, poring over family history, in the fancy dining room. Yet her trip starts on a sour note when she’s informed by the manor’s curt, clackey-heeled receptionist (Carly-Sophia Davies) that there’s been a discrepancy with her reservation and their preferred room isn’t available.
Julie then faces crippling insomnia which escalates into a frustrating case of writer’s block. Adding to her disappointment, she learns that not all of her mother’s jostled memories are happy ones. Staying in this formerly bustling estate, now lonesome as the two appear to be the only guests on the premises, unearths a palpable sense of sadness within Rosalind, who in turn recognizes Julie’s growing unrest. Louis, their springer spaniel, is also experiencing discomfort and unease in these digs, constantly wanting to be outside the glare of the concrete gargoyles peering from the rooftop.
Through mood lighting, long takes and slow dissolves, Hogg, editor Helle le Fevre and cinematographer Ed Rutherford conjure a tangible feeling of isolation, restlessness and anxiety, reflective of the picture’s themes and character drive. Julie knocks around the manor as if she’s a phantom haunting the place, exploring dark corridors, creepy corners and hallowed hallways. She peers out the window nightly – the moonlight illuminating her pale complexion making her appear ghost-like – voyeuristically watching as the rude receptionist is picked up by an EDM-thumping Fiat. She herself also imagines seeing specters peering out windows at her while she’s taking the dog out.
The soundscape drawn also evokes mystery, setting the stage for semi-spooky shenanigans. In those sounds appears a lurking presence, manifesting in the building’s creaky hinges and squeaky floors, pipes clanging and banging, and walls echoing thumps and bumps. In addition, the subtle sounds of fog rolling in and wind howling, rattling the gnarled, barren branches of the surrounding trees that act like outstretched arms seeking to pull Julie into a sorrowful embrace, also mirror our heroine’s psyche.
Yet there’s also a knowing tenderness, empathy and compassion woven into the film’s fabric. It’s exemplified by Julie’s vulnerability expressed in her warm, budding friendship with property caretaker Bill (Joseph Mydell, whose work here is slightly reminiscent of Scatman Crothers’ in THE SHINING), whose grieving process strikes a chord with Julie. The hints Hogg peppers throughout, cluing the us into the mystery, provoke watershed emotional moments for both the protagonist and viewers who’ve gone through the isolating, regret-filled agony the acceptance of grief brings.
Swinton turns in singular work in a dual performance, balancing the tender, soul-shattering emotional range of both mother and daughter. She adds pathos and maturity to Julie, fittingly broadening the scale and scope of what her own real life daughter Honor Swinton had done with the character in THE SOUVENIR and its second chapter. And with Rosalind, she also finds brilliant facets to shine light on, bringing closure and release. Davies’ no-nonsense attitude she infuses her character with fills the space with a necessary dose of levity.
Though slightly unformed, as almost anything as open-hearted as this feature is conceived, and with a tendency to break its own rules, THE ETERNAL DAUGHTER is a tender subversion of contemporary ghost stories. It clings to the viewer’s soul, eschewing modern contrivance for good, old-fashioned techniques. And with cinematic references gently layered throughout, it’s a soothing dream.
Grade: B+
THE ETERNAL DAUGHTER plays AFI Fest on November 6. It opens in limited release on December 2.
