The cinematic gothic aesthetic, as I have described it in these pages, is an aesthetics of memory, accented in its transcultural authorial roots and displaced characters. The accented style of the films responds to the directors’ socio-cultural condition of displacement, inscribing into the mise-en-scène, atmosphere, and plotlines experiences of dislocation, trespassing, claustrophobia, unbelonging, loss, change, and motifs of itinerancy. In their paralleling of life and art, the films become visual archives of mourning: cinematic representations of personal memory sifted through the realisation that the past is forever lost, memory is always reconstructed and contaminated by the imagination, identity is porous, and happiness is either unattainable or resides in death. Driven by an overpowering and often maddening impetus to re-collect, the characters attempt to ground their lives in something tangible, something that can be held, preserved, and revisited to counteract the prevailing instability of their existence. Amid the ruptures and fissures of memory, objects represent fixity and continuity; yet, the characters’ affective, haptic encounters with memory-objects merely feed their obsession with re-membering and thus ultimately constitute a further motif of exile. Haunted, incomplete, often divorced or estranged from a sense of identity, the gothic subject that emerges from these films stands as an avatar of a fractured, postmodern selfhood, with its multiple, disjointed voices and fragmented personae.