Guillermo del Toro’s Nightmare Alley, A remake of a 1947 film of the same name, which itself was an adaption of a 1946 book, shows a director in full control of his craft. This is clearly a personal film for him, and something which he has wanted to make for the majority of his career. The care and attention put into every aspect of the piece, and the extent he appears to know his characters, a clear indication of the love he has for the source material.

He takes his time, slowly peeling back the layers of the characters, slowly pulling the audience in, gripping them in a way that any good ringmaster should, until you find yourself struggling to look away, despite the horror on show in front of you.

The lighting and set design deserve to be singled out for praise, as they do a lot of heavy lifting in realising the atmosphere. The carnival feels alive and exciting, whereas Stantons apartment and hotel show feel strangely sterile. 

Throughout the first act our players are cast in shadows by the illumination of the fair, simultaneously showcasing the bright lights of the carnival, and the darkness of those who inhabit it.

During the second act, as the location shifts - and the balance of power shifts with it - we are introduced to Cate Blanchetts, Lilith Ritter, who almost without effort establishes herself in Stantons mind, while simultaneously stealing the show.

Bradley Cooper is fantastic also, disappearing into Stanton Carlisle to such an extent that you can easily forget that you’re watching one of the worlds most recognisable actors. He inhabits “Stan”, playing him with just the right amount of charm and charisma. 

Always on the make, “Stans” biggest con of all is convincing the audience to stay with him as long as we do. From the start we see him lie, and steal, and cheat. We see the violence that lurks beneath the smile, but we stay with him. Not because we like him, not because we want to see him win, but simply because he tells us too. 

He works his way up from the bottom, his desire, not just to survive, but to succeed, hiding in plain sight, concealed by no more than a quick tongue, and sharp mind. He bamboozles those around him, basking in their adulation, to the point that he starts to believe the con himself. He convinces himself of his greatness, of his infallibility. The only words that leave his mouth in the entire run time that you don’t quite believe said to his partner Molly… “I love you”.

Molly, played perfectly by Rooney Mara, acts as Stanton’s conscience. Or at least she would, if he had one. In a film which exists in the dark, Molly is a rare spark of colour. While Stanton rides the carousel of his life, always bound for a pre-destined end, Molly stands to the side, reaching out and offering him an escape which he will never be able to take.

Nightmare Alley is long, and it is slow, but if you stick with it your patience will be rewarded. As in any good film noir, Nightmare Alley succeeds because it has it’s feet firmly planted in the light and the dark. The rise and the fall. It gives both sides of the coin equal respect and equal attention. 

While anyone who has read the book, or seen the 1947 original, will know where the film will finish, this just serves to add to the feeling of inevitability. That whatever this character tries to do, whatever guise he attempts to take, the same end will always be waiting for him. An ending he was, after all, “born for”.