Movie Review: “A Ghost Story” Is Like “Paranormal Activity”, But With More Bedsheets and Sadness

A Ghost Story is about life after death. Well, your death. And everyone else’s life.

Its leading man spends most of the movie dead, draped in a bedsheet, stalking his wife in seeming slow motion (while she and the rest of the world carries on at increasing speed, unaware of his presence).

Casey Affleck, recent Oscar winner and sexual harassment-suit settler, is the be-sheeted spirit. Rooney Mara plays his widow, and in one virtuoso sequence, she grief-gobs an entire baked pie in five minutes.

David Lowery, the director, has reunited his Ain’t Them Bodies Saints cast for this cosmic, experimental meditation on our impermanence, shooting the thing in secret (in case the experiment failed and they had to bury or burn the footage, I suppose), and in a boxy, Instagram-ready aspect ratio.

Also, Kesha has a cameo.

Basically, I’m just listing the flick’s most bizarre elements to whittle down readers until only those with an appetite for this oddball mélange remain. Anyone who balked at ‘bedsheet’ should have already clicked away. But those who tune into the strange frequency of A Ghost Story will be grandly rewarded.

Just know, first and foremost, in this ghost story, all the haunting is conducted by linen.

Affleck’s character—named C in the credits—is killed almost immediately, in a car accident outside the Texan home he shares with M (Mara). As we learn in flashbacks, the two had been arguing over her desire to move away, somewhere metropolitan, and his need to stay, citing its “history”. When he returns as a spectre to watch M struggle with her loneliness—and later, move on and out—we see how the house’s history evolves, and the role he plays in shaping it (especially as he begins reaching across the divide to frighten new tenants).

Certainly, our hero’s outfit is silly, and for some, it will be a barrier to buying into his silent, existential pain. (Shout out to the Spanish film Finisterrae, which also starred similar sheet-wearing spirits, and even had them riding horses.) In fairness, writer-director Lowery conjures a reasonable explanation for it being the undead’s go-to piece of apparel, when C inexplicably wakes up on a gurney in the morgue, and uses the sheet to hide his modesty (and mortality).

(I had my doubts that it was Affleck under there, though Lowery, who has described the costume as being like a giant puppet with a helmet head, insists it was the actor embodying the titular ghost at all times. Either way, his visual absence may assist people—like, say, Brie Larson—who’ve been wrestling over seeing A Ghost Story because of him.)

The vision of the ghost, initially, is comical, and it’s certainly used on occasion for deadpan laughs. (Pun!) Eventually, its hollowed out and forlorn eyes do begin conveying deep, undying sadness. It’s not the only affectation I warmed up to. The 1.33:1 aspect ratio, complete with rounded corners, looks like a forced filter; yet as the story unfurls and the house crumbles, you feel as if you’re glancing at an old photograph. C’s life is now just a memory, and even the fights are reflected on warmly.

A Ghost Story, in many ways, serves as a canvas for musician Daniel Hart, who supplies the score and its centerpiece song, “I Get Overwhelmed”, which is echoed throughout. In concert with all the artifice (and lack of dialogue), the movie is vulnerable to claims that it’s merely a languid, 90-minute music video. However, the song—which stop-starts and grows from a whisper to a howl—is so beautifully mournful, and the accompanying images so gorgeously composed and evocative, any criticism can be easily contorted into a compliment. Music video or feature film, A Ghost Story inspires a powerful response, crescendoing with its melancholy final shot. So, what’s the difference?

The picture will test audience patience with its lengthy takes (of pie-eating and more), as well as its dreamy, disjointed narrative. A smug speech by musician Will Oldham at a hipster house party late in proceedings might also frustrate viewers; in it, he mansplains the trajectory of the universe’s heat death. Thankfully, Lowery doesn’t treat him like a sage, and his prophecy doesn’t exactly come to pass. A Ghost Story suggests there’s plenty left to discover, and we have all the time in the world to figure it out.

4/5

In cinemas July 27. Rated M for mature themes and occasional coarse language.

Photo: A24