Film Review #149: GHOSTLIGHT
Ghostlight (2024)
Dir. Alex Thompson & Kelly O’Sullivan
Ghostlight (2024) is an unassuming yet extraordinary film that delicately weaves together themes of love, family, grief, and loss. Co-directed by Alex Thompson and Kelly O’Sullivan, the film captivated audiences at this year’s Sundance Film Festival with its quiet brilliance and emerged as a standout gem among the festival’s many talented offerings.
The story follows Dan Mueller (Keith Kupfurer), a tense and sullen construction worker trying to hold his family—and himself—together after a traumatic incident. As he struggles to manage his belligerent teenage daughter, Daisy
(the promisingly talented Katherine Mallen Kupferer), and her erratic behaviour at school, we also see him trying to maintain an emotional distance from his wife, Sharon (wonderfully played by Tara Mallen), an elementary school music teacher who is trying her best to reconnect the family.
After a sudden outburst of explosive frustration at work, Dan finds himself jobless and increasingly unable to control his emotions. Witnessing the incident, Rita
(breakout Filipino star Dolly De Leon), an actress from a nearby theatre, offers him an unexpected opportunity to join their community production of Shakespeare’s classic
Romeo and Juliet. “It seemed like you might want a chance of being somebody else”, Rita suggests.
Ghostlight is ultimately a story about how people live in the face of loss and tragedy. At its core lies a profound question: In times of immense grief, how do we rediscover the capacity to let our emotions flow freely, if embracing them means admitting defeat?
Ghostlight offers theatre as an unexpected doorway––a place where pretending might help us reconnect with what’s real. The film delicately underscores the transformative power that art and community have in helping people navigate through life’s toughest struggles, reminding us that any attempt to engage with our emotions at all is better than burying them and pretending they don’t exist. “Many of us live our lives repressing our emotions because out there, they can be a liability. But in here, we can put those into good use”—eloquently delivered by the incredibly gentle Rita.
Despite its heavy themes, the movie is surprisingly funny and deeply cathartic, blending tears and laughter in just the right way. You cannot help but laugh at the many situational comedic moments, like watching Dan, a big, gruff construction worker, try to perform breathing exercises and do silly dances with the other actors. But watching him slowly break apart, piece by piece, and learn to feel, is incredibly moving.
In the Mueller family, it is clear that everyone is processing the incident in their own way; Daisy constantly lashes out because she doesn’t know how to let go of her emotions, Sharon turns to gardening as a means to cope, and Dan just stubbornly tries to will his way through. The family, or maybe just Dan, refuses to talk about the elephant in the room. Yet, the thing about buried emotions is that they don’t disappear––they fester and grow until they demand to be faced. Grief, in particular, is not just a storm that passes; it’s a quiet drizzle that lingers, shaping the entire landscape of people’s lives.
Dan’s inability to express his emotions not only isolates him but also causes immense strain on his family, who are silently struggling alongside him. One particular moment that moved me is when Daisy, after her therapy session, shares with Dan in the car that her friend attends family therapy together because, as she puts it, “she’s not the only problem.” It’s a poignant reminder that the burdens of grief and healing aren’t meant to rest on just one person’s shoulders.
It is only through the act of stepping into another’s shoes, of playing a character with motives he couldn’t even begin to understand, that Dan begins to find the courage to confront and accept the truth. By finally letting himself feel, Dan opens the door for his family to confront their pain together, breaking free from the silent isolation he had unintentionally imposed on them. In learning to share the weight of grief, they find a path toward healing as a family.
What makes the portrayal of the Muellers so compelling and heartfelt was the natural, lived-in dynamic among the trio. Finding out later that Keith Kupferer, Tara Mallen, and Katherine Mallen Kupferer are an actual real-life family adds yet another layer of charm to the film. The performances across the board feel deeply truthful, and this authenticity grounds the story in a way that makes the audience truly believe in the Muellers as a family.
Katherine Mallen Kupferer, in particular, delivers a powerhouse performance as Daisy, whose fiery intensity perfectly contrasts Dan’s restrained demeanour. She steals the show with her raw, magnetic energy, commanding attention in every scene she’s in.
While the plot risks being too contrived and predictable, borrowing its foundation from the all-too-familiar story of Romeo and Juliet, Ghostlight manages to carve out a tale of its own, leaving a heartfelt and truly genuine story about love, loss, family, and community, all set against the backdrop of theatre and with just the right amount of lightness.
Melancholic and tear-jerking at its core, the film is also filled with an uplifting sense of hope, warmth, and healing.
Ghostlight reminds us that only by allowing ourselves to feel can we truly continue to live.
-----------------------
About the author: As a sociology major with a background in arts management, Belle is passionate about analysing social issues through film, exploring the intersection of society, culture, and storytelling. When she’s not immersed in films, songs, or books, she can be found either thinking or writing about her next creative endeavour.
This review is published as part of *SCAPE’s Film Critics Lab: A Writing Mentorship Programme, with support from Singapore Film Society.
BLOG
