Movie Review ~ Ghostlight

It was early January, and I wondered if I’d already seen the year’s best movie.  Too much?  Too soon?  Perhaps it was because Ghostlight was only the first movie I saw on my inaugural trip to the Sundance Film Festival that I was feeling this way.  The experience of seeing the picture moved me tremendously, and the buzz at and after the world premiere was palpable.  I left the theater drying my eyes along with other audience members, who agreed that this was a special film that needed a special rollout.  Over the next few months, I was pleased to see it pop up at film festivals across the country, usually in a prime slot as the opening or closing night selection, traditionally reserved for the top-tier choices. This film has the power to deeply touch and connect with its audience, leaving a lasting emotional impact.

I’ve seen the film several times since that morning in January, and my opinion of its quality hasn’t changed.  Will it end up as the best movie of 2024?  Who can say?  I know it’s going to be in the Top 5 regardless.  A touching, emotionally resonant story of quiet power, Ghostlight is a shining example of art’s transformative potential.  Directed by Alex Thompson and Kelly O’Sullivan, it captures what it means to be in a community of support and how moving through personal healing doesn’t have to be so lonely.

The story’s emotional core is Dan, a blue-collar construction worker (Keith Kupferer, The Dark Knight) who has mastered the art of living on autopilot. His emotional struggles simmer beneath the surface, but his strong will keeps them at bay, manifesting only in outbursts that push his wife, Sharon (Tara Mallen), and daughter, Daisy (Katherine Mallen Kupferer, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.), away.  His life takes an unexpected turn when a dizzying incident on a job site propels him into an amateur theater troupe’s production of Romeo & Juliet, setting the stage for a profound personal transformation.

The rag-tag group, led by the enigmatic Rita (Triangle of Sadness standout Dolly de Leon), helps him discover a new newfound sense of purpose and belonging, forging connections that allow him (and his family) to confront their pain and reconstruct what had been lost through tragic circumstances.  O’Sullivan’s script is a mosaic of lives intersecting and intertwining around Shakespeare’s timeless tragedy, composed as only someone with a theatrical background could make work so seamlessly.  Perhaps it will feel a bit too on the nose for some, but that same theatrical magic and request to suspend your disbelief for two hours has kept us sitting in darkened rooms watching stories on stage and screen for centuries.

The actors playing Dan, Sharon, and Daisy are a family in real life, and that dynamic adds an extra layer of authenticity to their on-screen interactions.  There’s a familiarity with their involvement with one another throughout, which makes the Chicago-based actors relatable and effortlessly watchable.  Keith Kupferer’s understated internal struggle with vulnerability is raw and heartbreaking.  The more we find out about Dan and where he’s coming from, the more his involvement with the show feels necessary in him finally laying down a heavy burden…and Kupferer makes us want that for him. 

Daughter Katherine Mallen Kupferer’s Daisy is a bundle of emotions she’s gleaned from her parents and is taking out on anyone who stands in her way.  Foul-mouthed and angry at the world, her behavior is out of control, but her love of the stage becomes a newfound connection for a father who is previously unable to find a level playing ground with his child.  Kupferer’s wife, Tara Mallen, spends most of the movie wondering what’s happening to her family but delivers some of the film’s most emotionally forthright lines as it draws toward its extraordinary finale.  

The three leads alone would be enough to elevate the film to a high bar, but an entire ensemble of character actors brings crucial energy to the production.  Initially presenting a brittle exterior, de Leon’s Rita hides a nurturing warmth, making her a perfect acting partner for Dan when he moves up to playing Romeo opposite her Juliet.  Rita can sense Dan needs an outlet to be anyone but himself and is the first to give him permission.  It’s a performance requiring great patience, and de Leon is in no rush.

Completing the company is Hanna Dworkin as Lanora, the director of the production; Tommy Rivera-Vega as Lucian, a high-energy performer who keeps getting his role changed; Alma Washington’s motherly Moira, H.B. Ward’s convivial Jonah, and wryly funny Dexter Zollicoffer as Greg.  It’s important to name them all because the equation would be slightly off without any of their contributions.  Casts like these are why ensemble awards are created/needed in this industry.  Here’s hoping every awards body with one will remember Ghostlight’s fantastic cast when the time comes to nominate this year.

Building on the success of their previous collaboration, Saint Frances, O’Sullivan and Thompson demonstrate a beautiful understanding of character-driven storytelling.  Every scene of Ghostlight has focus and realism, even walking us through what it might look like to release your grief gently when you had expected it to be filled with rage.  O’Sullivan had to have had Kupferer in mind when writing the role; I don’t see how some of the scenes near the end could have even been conceived with anyone else playing them so perfectly.

Luke Dyra’s cinematography, though unadorned and simple, gorgeously captures the intimacy and openness presented by the actors.  These visuals complement the piece’s thematic depths, making the everyday life of the non-professionals feel magical when they get onstage.  Anyone who has worked a 9-5 job and then performed in a community theater production will understand that rush of electricity when all the elements come together and your creation springs to life.  While Quinn Tsan’s score adds delicate touches, sweet renditions of iconic show tunes give an extra layer of poignancy to pivotal moments.  These interludes are more than musical cues; they remind us how art can connect us to our deeper selves and one another.

With the number of movies and content we consume yearly, critics can easily detach and let cynicism take over.  Perhaps that’s why I found Ghostlight so endlessly rewarding.  It’s a poignant reminder of the importance of human connection and self-discovery, allowing viewers to be open to their emotions.  O’Sullivan and Thompson have delivered what I consider to be an unmissable cinematic experience that embraces the healing power of community.  By giving ourselves over to the transformative capability of art, we find solace in the knowledge that even in our darkest moments, a single guiding light can illuminate the path forward.