By Someone Who Watched It, Processed It, and Isn’t Sure They’ve Recovered Yet
Let’s be honest right from the start: ‘The Lighthouse’ is not a movie for everyone. And I say that with genuine respect for what director Robert Eggers achieved with this film. It’s dark. It’s disorienting. It’s… deeply weird. And yet, if you’re the type of viewer who finds beauty in ambiguity and madness in silence, this might just be your kind of masterpiece.
I went into The Lighthouse with only a vague idea of what to expect. I’d heard it was “artsy” and “psychological,” but nothing prepared me for what unfolded on screen. And now, having sat with it for some time, I can say with confidence that it’s one of the most unique and unsettling films I’ve ever watched—but also one I wouldn’t recommend lightly.
A Quick Setup (Without Spoilers)
Set in the late 19th century, The Lighthouse follows two men—played by Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe—tasked with maintaining a remote lighthouse on a desolate island. That’s it. Two men. One island. Lots of fog, seagulls, and mounting tension.
There are no monsters. No jump scares. No traditional narrative structure. What you get instead is a psychological descent—slow, haunting, and at times utterly bizarre.
The Visual Experience: Stark, Bleak, Beautiful
One of the first things that hits you is how the film looks. Shot in black-and-white and in a nearly square 1.19:1 aspect ratio, it feels claustrophobic and vintage. Eggers didn’t just recreate the time period—he immerses you in it. The imagery is grainy, the lighting is harsh, and everything feels soaked in sea spray and madness.
It’s a film where every frame could be a photograph. The use of light and shadow is masterful, often communicating more than the characters ever say out loud. But if you’re not into “artistic” or unconventional visuals, this might come across as overly stylized or hard to engage with.
The Performances: Two Men, One Explosive Dynamic
Here’s where The Lighthouse truly shines. Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson are phenomenal. This isn’t just good acting—it’s full-body, full-spirit immersion into characters who are unraveling in real time. Dafoe, in particular, disappears into his role with a performance that is Shakespearean in its intensity. Pattinson matches him blow for blow, proving once again that he’s far more than his early-career teen heartthrob status.
Their chemistry is volatile. One moment they’re drinking and singing sea shanties, the next they’re on the brink of violence. And all of it is filtered through dialogue that feels pulled from ancient sailor myths and fractured poetry.

The Story: Ambiguous, Abstract, and Unsettling
This is where viewers will either lean in or completely check out.
The Lighthouse doesn’t tell a story in a traditional sense. It’s not about plot points or clear resolutions. It’s more like watching a dream—or a nightmare—unfold. You’re not meant to understand everything. In fact, uncertainty is the point.
There are surreal moments, possible hallucinations, and metaphors layered so deeply they might only make sense after a second or third viewing (if at all). Eggers draws on mythology, folklore, and psychoanalysis to build an atmosphere that’s thick with dread and symbolic weight.
If you’re the type of viewer who needs clear answers, this will likely frustrate you. But if you appreciate films that invite interpretation, discussion, and discomfort—this is a treasure trove.
The Atmosphere: Intense, Isolating, and Often Unbearable
Watching The Lighthouse is not exactly fun. It’s more like an endurance test. The sound design is jarring, the wind never stops howling, and the score is more oppressive than melodic. The entire film feels like a descent into madness—not just for the characters, but for you, the viewer.
That’s not a flaw. It’s entirely intentional. But again—it’s not for everyone.
This is a movie you sit with, not escape into. It doesn’t let you relax. And that’s part of its brilliance—but also the reason many people walk away from it feeling confused, cold, or just plain irritated.
So, Who Is This Movie For?
Great question. If you’re the kind of person who enjoys:
- Films by David Lynch or Andrei Tarkovsky
- Stories that embrace ambiguity and symbolism
- Psychological character studies that push the limits of sanity
- Minimalist settings with maximum atmosphere
- Deep-dive discussions and film analysis videos afterward
Then you’ll probably love The Lighthouse. You’ll want to analyze every line of dialogue, pause and zoom in on certain frames, and argue with friends about what “really happened.”
But if you prefer:
- Clear narrative arcs and satisfying resolutions
- Lighter or faster-paced storytelling
- Escapism rather than confrontation
- Visually bright or emotionally uplifting movies
Then this might not be your cup of tea—and that’s completely okay.
Final Thoughts: A Masterpiece, But Not a Crowd-Pleaser
I’ll say this: The Lighthouse is an extraordinary film, but it demands patience, attention, and a high tolerance for ambiguity. It’s not entertaining in the traditional sense. It’s a mood, a mental exercise, a piece of performance art dressed as a movie.
I don’t regret watching it—but I also wouldn’t casually recommend it to just anyone.
So if you’re in the right headspace and willing to commit to something weird, challenging, and visually stunning—give it a shot. Just don’t expect to walk away with answers. Expect to walk away feeling something strange, and maybe even questioning your own grip on reality.