Say you wanted to create the most hipstery ghost story of all time. First, you put its main character (Casey Affleck) under a Halloween sheet ghost costume the entire time. Second, after a long stretch of silence, include a character who explains the theme of the movie at a party. Third, have the ghost almost directly never interact with anyone except other ghosts, and even then only in captions. Fourth, film the movie in the obsolete 4:3 format. And finally, include a five-minute long shot done in one take of Rooney Mara eating a pie.

If you want to dismiss David Lowery’s A Ghost Story as pretentious nonsense, then you’ll get no argument for me. The question, though, is does it work? Is the pie-eating scene too indulgent? I think it does well in doing what it needs to do. First, it’s a wonderful and realistic illustration of Mara’s grief. She’s barely able to hold it all together while trying to drown her emotions with food. Seen from the point of view of an outsider (in this case, Affleck), it can seem comical and tragic at the same time. Either way, you’re helpless to do anything about it. There’s this barrier, and not necessarily a supernatural one as the movie portrays. The second becomes apparent later on. There really is no stretch of time that passes again similar to pie scene, with our ghost barreling forward (and backward) through time, catching glimpses of a future city and doomed pioneers in succession.

It’s a movie that seemed designed to change meaning depending on the person viewing it. My own personal interpretation: take away the ghost sheet and it’s a portrait of a broken relationship. The moments right after are when you and your partner think about each other. Rooney Mara reaches out to someone she can’t touch while listening to the music he composed, and then she moves on. As for the ghost, he is the portrait of a man who grows more and more isolated as time goes on. There are other families living under his house and there are other parties. But he never really interacts with anyone and time accelerates faster and faster until he reaches his death.

But why the bedsheet? Well… how many of us wouldn’t have even bothered to watch a drama about dealing with grief if there wasn’t a guy in ghost costume?

But that’s only one interpretation, and maybe not even the “correct” one. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a satisfactory explanation for what happens at the end of the movie. I’m not convinced David Lowery has a real answer. It could be whatever was inside that case in Pulp Fiction: attribute any meaning you want, it’s just two lightbulbs.

A Ghost Story, though, conveys the feeling of utter despair and loneliness unlike many other movies have. It’s an incredible achievement that a silly-looking white sheet with two holes for eyes can convey so much. Or maybe it’s because of the sheet? Remove that costume, and you are forced to contend with the actor underneath. Put that sheet on, though, and it becomes a blank slate on which to project all your insecurities on.

Rating: 5/5 stars.