Brimming with lush vibrant imagery and led by a trio of strong performances, Crimson Peak is a romantic, bloody and innovative haunted house story done as only Guillermo del Toro knows how.

For those expecting the kind of haunted horror scares seen in the likes of The Conjuring or The Orphanage, disappointment is sure to find you. While Crimson Peak sure does feature ghastly ghosts that howl in the dead of night, monsters of a different kind bring forth evil both insidious and violent in Guillermo del Toro’s latest genre effort.

Considering del Toro’s approach to genre moviemaking, it is not a surprise. From Cronos through to Pacific Rim, del Toro has a clear affection for all manner of monster and ghoul as much as he loves to mess with conventions, rewriting the rules while tipping his hat to those masters who laid the framework from which he has prospered.

Crimson Peak continues that trend. While its influences are clear – ranging from Italian horror giallo master Dario Argento through to Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula – Crimson Peak is a del Toro movie through and through, especially so in its visual style that is spectacularly vibrant in its colour schemes. If eyes could eat, every pair would gobble up what del Toro and cinematographer Dan Lausten have to offer and then ask for seconds.

Thankfully there is substance to its style in the form of a twisted romance that has an effect on both the living and the dead, and centres on hopeful author Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska) as she is swept away by the mysterious Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) to his entrusted crumbling mansion, which he shares with his over protective sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain).

It’s when in the house that Crimson Peak hits its stride as a brooding horror romance. The lazy crutch of jump scares is nowhere to be found, in its stead a creepy dread that oozes its way on the surface, much like the crimson thick clay that slowly swallows the house and all of its horrors whole (hence the title of the film.)

What sells it all are the performances from the three leads. Wasikowska portrays scary with the conviction needed to make her characters ghost plagued existence palatable, and Hiddleston effectively combines charm and brooding.

Yet the standout is Jessica Chastain as a cold, enigmatic and frightening creature harbouring a repressed, disturbing soul who makes even the simple act of serving a cup of tea a thing of sinister malevolence. In the gallery of great Chastain performances, her portrayal of Lucille ranks high.

Granted, Crimson Peak could have benefited from a higher shrieks-per-scene average, such is the power of expectations when it comes to this director and this genre. Yet during these formulaic times of the found footage + shaky cam + jump scare = horror movie, it is indeed a welcome and refreshing change to soak in the kind of world making splendour that del Toro provides.