GHOSTLIGHT - Mark Reviews Movies

Ghostlight, IFC Films

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Review by Mark Dujsik | June 13, 2024

Ghostlight understands the allure and world of theater, which pulls a reserved but devastated construction worker into the fold in this tear-jerking tale. The film works, for sure, as a story about a man discovering a passion he previously would never have considered, the behind-the-scenes process of getting a play to the stage, and finding emotional truth and reconciliation through the power of art. That co-director Kelly O'Sullivan's screenplay feels a bit too constructed to arrive at that last part is obvious, but the impact of this film is also undeniable.

Our unassuming leading man, who has no idea he's about to become one in a live performance, is Dan (Keith Kupferer), whose days amount to doing road work in a small suburban town and whose nights are spent with his wife Sharon (Tara Mallen) and their teenage daughter Daisy (Katherine Mallen Kupferer). In case the names don't make it obvious, the three actors are a family in real life, too. O'Sullivan and co-director Alex Thompson casting them here, in a story that depends on how these deep ties have become fraught and won't entirely strengthen by the end, lends an instant, notable credibility to these characters and their relationships.

The main narrative follows Dan, who, like the rest of his family, is dealing with a tragedy that isn't spoken directly by anyone for some time. We catch the general sense of it early, as Dan wakes in the morning and stares at a dead patch in his backyard (opening the curtains of his bedroom window, framed in a way that recalls a stage being revealed to an audience), talk of a lawsuit occasionally arises, and a school principal can't help but offer sympathy for what three are going through after the daughter is almost expelled for pushing a teacher.

Daisy isn't the only one angry with this slightly mysterious situation, either. Dan takes out his rage on a motorist who almost hits him twice, putting his job in jeopardy. Standing outside on the main stretch of the road, Rita (Dolly De Leon) witnesses the incident and later asks Dan to help her with something.

Upon entering the old movie theater that Rita is renting, Dan finds himself at a rehearsal for a non-professional production of Romeo and Juliet. The cast members welcome him, encourage his flat readings of the lines, and, as Rita suspected, offer him a momentary distraction from everything going on his life. He keeps coming back to the theater after work is finished and becomes a de facto member of the troupe.

There are really two narratives occurring here. One is the preparation for the production, which is filled with major and little details about the path of such an endeavor. There's some drama, as Lucian (Tommy Rivera-Vega) keeps losing roles he really wants to play and Rita punches her co-star, who insists she's too old to play perhaps the most famous ingenue in the history of theater. The cast do warm-ups and improvisation exercises, and slowly, Dan, who has no clue what the play is about when he shows up to that first rehearsal, has to learn how to tap into the emotions he has kept bottled up in order to make the lines sound more authentic than mere recitation.

This, of course, brings us to the other side of the story, which unfortunately pushes most of the acting troupe and this sense of a theatrical community into the background. That's the slow dissemination of the tragedy that has caused so much pain, grief, and anger within this family. O'Sullivan's script isn't entirely evasive about that information, even if the full extent of what happened about a year before the events of the story isn't revealed until a monologue in the third act, and in the way that the screenplay does avoid saying too much too soon, there is some honesty here.

After all, Dan is a quiet man who doesn't communicate about much, particularly his feelings and especially the complexity and confusion of emotions that come with this situation. Kupferer's performance embodies that constant tension, while also coming across as the inconspicuous sort of guy one would find in any little town. Watching Dan silently suffer and, through the play and learning about acting, gradually realize the depth of that suffering, as well as the effect of it on himself and his family, feels real, simply because Kupferer so thoroughly personifies someone so perfectly ordinary.

The film is, perhaps, at its best when it naturally allows these two threads to co-exist, such as how the play brings Dan and Daisy closer (She's a theater kid), how Sharon lovingly listens to her husband recite a soliloquy, and how the production brings the family together in a purpose that doesn't have to do with the tragedy at the core of the story. Eventually, what happened to the family becomes clearer, and while the filmmakers allow the actors to bring that heartache and the inevitable conflict of Dan repressing his emotions to the fore, there's a feeling of artificiality to the screenplay's assembly. That's especially true in how information is dealt out, a temporary misunderstanding about Dan is up to, and how the play mirrors the family's experiences.

Even so, the emotional force of Ghostlight, as Dan confronts his pain and what he refuses to understand through the production and his performance, is potent. None of that feels convenient or contrived, because of the authenticity of the performances and the sincerity of the filmmakers' belief in the power of art, if not to heal, then at least to help us understand ourselves in ways we otherwise might not.

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