"It's an eccentric, rambling old place that was built in 1812 and has had quite an incredible history of tragedy over the years," adds Rose. "There was a major train crash almost directly in front of it, it was ravaged by a huge fire during its stint as a nightclub, and in the early part of the 1900s it was a sanatorium often referred to as the 'Mayo Clinic of the West' where thousands of ailing folks came to bask in the healing waters of the 200-plus-degree 'Hot Lake' it was built next to.

"The more research I did, the more I drew from this history to build the narrative, which became kind of an amalgam of different stories and memories of the hotel itself," Rose continues.

Gibson struggles amongst the sad shades that make up the staff and residents of the hotel. Throughout the course of the video is an unbearable feeling of unease and loneliness. Forgotten children play without enthusiasm, a man dances with the memory of his girl while an incorporeal band plays somberly in a front room lit by a begrudging sun.

A constantly shifting mixture of conventional shots and time-lapse thoroughly screw with the viewer's ability to sense fourth-dimensional motion. It's hard to find a firm place to stand, and Gibson seems to feel it in every exploration of the grounds

The foreboding sense of her own misplacement dogs her every step, and build in the way I haven't seen since the criminally underrated Nicole Kidman ghost story The Others.

As night falls and eerie mist moves in like in a Silent Hill game, Gibson finds herself surrounded by a circle of the dead. The camera lingers briefly on her startled eyes before cutting to a fleeting dawn. All in all, "La Grande" is a masterpiece of gothic suspense and romantic spiritualism that truly draws you into the veil between the world of the living and the dead.

It's uncanny how good it is. Check it out below.