Girl in camo.
We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2018) is a mystery. Late 1940s, perhaps, small-town America, and who murdered the parents of 18 year old Merricat Blackwood and her older sister and owner of the house, Constance? Why are they loathe to go into town to get supplies, and why do the townspeople, in turn, loathe them? Is this why Merricat is practicing a type of magic to protect her, and does it work? Is Uncle Julian, who lives with them and is confined to a wheelchair, completely sane, or has he caught on to the secret of his brother and sister-in-law’s death, and it’s made him unbalanced? Is this new guy, Charles Blackwood, really a cousin, or is he something else? Or is it bad enough that he’s … a member of the family?
And, while we’re at it, why? Why do I care about this story concerning two mentally challenged women, living in their inheritance as if in a ship lost in a sea of chaos?
Or do I?
In the end, there’s nary a sympathetic character to be found, as it seems that everyone, from townsperson to children to the Blackwood parents, cousin Charles, and even Uncle Julian seem fully capable of enacting violence, incoherent, terrifying violence.
And perhaps that’s the point – understanding that when no one’s perfect, rejection of the imperfect leaves one in a precarious position. And that sometimes, rather than hating in an unforgiving furor, a little forgiveness may make more sense.
Maybe.
Well done, but mystifying rather than uplifting, be in an inquisitive mood when watching this one. Black depression definitely contraindicates this story.
