At some point, M moves on. She leaves the house that she was ready to leave anyway. But C’s ghost remains, bound to the house he never wanted to get away from. Yet people remain, C’s soul stays and sees time march on. New families come, a party held where a man (Will Oldham) explains the possibility of artistic immortality, the future and the past collapsing as C tries his best to move on and to find M’s final message to him.
This is where the epic descriptor comes in. Once the grief moves on, A Ghost Story becomes a meditation on time, how long any of us are remembered. How quickly the places our souls are tied to forget us.
It’s the scale and ambition that Lowery operates here that really impresses. A Ghost Story never loses its small intimacy, it feels just as raw. But it begins to get bigger and bigger, a hypnotic and transfixing cut through time, as the future begins to leave us all behind, even the memory of the place C once lived is collapsed and replaced.
A Ghost Story makes me feel small. It’s such a reminder of what we are on the scale and how easy it is to endure as a memory but how hard it is to ever truly remain.
Again, I want to make one last plea. This is a brilliant and beautiful work of poetic filmmaking. A meditation that is unique and haunting far beyond its end. A film that I already believe may never leave me.