‘Ghostlight’ Review: Two Households Both Aim for Dignity in Cathartic Shakespearean Dramedy | Chicago Critics Film Festival

One of the best moments of Ghostlight actually occurs during the end credits. Looking at the cast list, one thing immediately jumps out – the actors playing the family of three at the film’s center all share at least parts of their last names: Keith Kupferer, Tara Mallen, and Katherine Mallen Kupferer. Indeed, they’re a real life family unit consisting of a father, mother, and daughter, and in the film, they inhabit those same roles (although, it must be noted, they’re playing entirely fictional characters). What’s remarkable about the film is that it remains a completely effective, impactful film even without being aware of this unique casting choice (I certainly had no idea until the film’s end). But don’t let that make it seem that Ghostlight is a maudlin time. It’s also incredibly funny, serving as an ode to theater arts in all its silliness and empathic abilities. 

But back to the family. They play Dan (Kupferer), an exhausted construction worker, Sharon (Mallen), an exhausted teacher, and Daisy (Mallen Kupferer) an exhausting 16-year-old. The youngest member of the clan has been particularly troubled lately, lashing out at both home and school to the point where she faces expulsion after a testy exchange with a teacher. And even without their daughter raising all sorts of hell, Dan and Sharon have their own problems, especially in relation to a pending lawsuit they’ve filed. All of this stress is the result of a recent tragedy, about which the film slowly and wisely doles out details through realistic dialogue exchanges, context clues, and high-emotion scenes. One day while out on the job, Dan finds himself pulled into the unlikeliest of situations: a play rehearsal at a local theater. He has no idea what’s going on or why he’s been called in by one of its actors (Triangle of Sadness’s Dolly De Leon), but having little else in his life that brings him joy, he finds himself committing to the process and accepting his role in their production of “Romeo and Juliet.” Obviously, this fish-out-of-water scenario leads to all sorts of hilarious moments and misunderstandings, especially from watching such a gruff blue-collar individual interact with a collection of people as loopy and unabashedly earnest as these amateur actors. But, as Shakepeare has done for centuries, he starts to find emotional truths in the Bard’s words, which may even help him manage the turbulence of his home life.

Ghostlight is the result of the collaboration of real-life couple Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson, both of whom direct the film from a screenplay by O’Sullivan. They previously worked together on the charming, if light, Saint Frances. With that film, Thompson served as the sole director while O’Sullivan provided the words. What both films share is a clear affection for the city of Chicago and its irrepressible residents. And with Ghostlight, they narrow that appreciation down to an even more specific sliver of the Windy City: its esteemed storefront theater scene. When most people think of “Chicago theater,” their mind immediately jumps to Steppenwolf, the Goodman, and the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. But what locals, such as this critic, know is that some of the city’s best performances and productions can be found – at a merciful fraction of the ticket price – in smaller venues scattered around the metropolitan area. These theaters are often converted from old stores, churches, and other spaces not originally intended for performance, meaning the seating capacity is low and the shows are intimate by nature. I can personally attest having my life changed by plays mounted by smaller theater companies like Congo Square Theatre, Kokandy Productions, and PrideArts. And while the production value can sometimes be low, the passion for the arts is always top-of-the-line. In fact, the scrappy nature of storefront theater often means that the performers have a raw, truthful quality that’s not always found at larger venues.

And Ghostlight is a celebration of the ability of art to emotionally impact anyone, no matter the context, details, or how well it’s being presented. The company putting on “Romeo and Juliet” is far from professional, and yet, its cast members and audience (and by nature, those viewing the film) are still enormously impacted by the small, one-night-only play. But it’s Dan who finds the most surprising connection to the material he’d never even read before, let alone performed. The ways the play intersects with and reflects his life, ultimately guiding him to inner revelations about his pain, perfectly capture how essential art is to the human experience. And that reaction to art is also felt by the audience watching the film, further underlining how the filmmakers are aware and in control of Ghostlight’s thematic intentions.

If that all sounds too heavy, don’t worry. Ghostlight is decidedly an even split between comedy and drama, with a bounty of humor mined simply from watching the play come together (or even funnier, seeing the struggle to do so). Even something as simple as the actors playing goofy warm-up games is heightened to accentuate their comic absurdity. This “Romeo and Juliet” is atypical in many ways, least of all how age-inappropriate some of the performers are for their roles. De Leon in particular finds creative line readings, showing off her gifts for deadpan humor and cutting remarks which were made abundantly clear to anyone who saw her magnificent performance in Triangle of Sadness (One of her very first lines is, hysterically, ”The fuck are you laughing at, dipshit?”). Mallen Kupferer also gets plenty of zingers in her constant typically-teenage observations, with her dramatics somehow magically played both for laughs and to make viewers aware of her pain. Daisy is constantly talking, with unasked-for comments of snide, immature, and heartbreaking natures. Conversely, her father Dan doesn’t talk enough, constantly bottling his feelings and cutting himself off before he can fully express himself and his inner turmoil, or worse, lashing out in upsetting displays of sudden anger. Kupferer is fantastic at selling the hurt he’s going through, both because of his past and because of how he’s unable to process his current trauma thanks to the societal teachings of how men should handle such things. It’s increasingly difficult to watch him go through this cycle of repression, and Kupferer’s face beautifully expresses the conflicting mindsets of what he wants to do versus what he feels he should do. He’s a stellar vessel for O’Sullivan’s moving and ultimately exquisitely cathartic screenplay.

But for all the expectations that Ghostlight upends, it can’t help but delve into some tiringly typical plot lines. One major aspect of Dan’s journey is his hesitation to share his newfound theatrical passion with anyone outside of the rehearsal studio. This act of comical subterfuge inevitably leads to a “truth revealed” scene centered around a misunderstanding. And while it’s performed well by all three members of the family, it feels like a beat from a lesser movie. Perhaps this is an attempt at the types of humorous twists that are often played for laughs in Shakespearean comedies, but it still sticks out in a perfunctory manner. However, the film gets so much right that it’s easy to excuse instances like this where it resorts to cliché.

Much like a Shakespearean play given new life by an earnest theatrical troupe, Ghostlight has moments of familiarity electrified with newness by well-laid context and truthful connection. It’s a lovely encapsulation of all that art is capable of and how it can be emotionally revealing for even the most unexpected of people.

Grade: B+

This review is from the 2024 Chicago Critics Film Festival. IFC Films will release Ghostlight in theaters on June 14, 2024.