The House of the Devil: DVD Review
|
Page 1 of 3 MPI / 2000 / 95 Minutes / Rated R / Street Date: February 2, 2010
As much as I’ve bemoaned the lack of original and unique horror films of late — especially with the seemingly endless onslaught of needless remakes and sequels — 2009 is actually shaping up as a pretty decent year for horror. First, there was the long-awaited and highly-anticipated release of Michael Dougherty’s clever Creepshow throwback Trick ‘r Treat, with its interwoven tales of terror all set on All Hallow’s Eve. Then, director Oren Peli took a page from the bare-bones independent smash The Blair Witch Project and proved lightning could indeed strike twice by unleashing the runaway hit Paranormal Activity onto unsuspecting audiences. Now, another newcomer named Ti West has devised a deliciously retro ‘80s horror flick with The House of the Devil, a pitch-perfect homage to a long-forgotten horror subgenre of films that focused on houses that go bump in the night and the dangers of Satanic cults. Like Trick ‘r Treat and Paranormal Activity, The House of the Devil is very much in the old-school tradition of horror filmmaking — eschewing an ever-growing reliance on computer-generated effects and fast-paced editing trickery for pure and simple thrills and chills earned through well-paced storytelling and character development. In an era where films like Saw VI rule the day and the Halloween franchise is well into its second string of remakes, films like The House of the Devil seem oddly refreshing in comparison. A promising newcomer, writer-director Ti West, who previously helmed the sequel to Eli Roth’s Cabin Fever, certainly knows a bit about horror films of the ‘70s and ‘80s and the most impressive aspect of The House of the Devil is how well it captures the details of that early ‘80s period. Although shot in 2008 in Connecticut and released theatrically in 2009, the movie intentionally looks and feels like a horror movie circa 1983, replete with retro hairstyles, fashions and even an anachronistic Sony cassette Walkman to boot. West smartly evokes the period as a means of heightening the spook factor. A title card at the opening explains how during the 1980s over 70 percent of Americans believed in the existence of Satanic cults and how the following film is “based on true and unexplained events,” taking a cue from the old Amityville Horror ploy. West also ups the ante by casting identifiable horror veterans like Tom Noonan (Wolfen), Mary Woronov (Seizure) and Dee Wallace (Cujo) in key roles and shooting the project on grainy 16mm film stock to further “date” the look of the movie. While contemporary filmmakers like Rob Zombie have employed similar tactics, the resulting films (House of 1,000 Corpses, The Devil’s Rejects) were a mishmash of retro and modern sensibilities — they don’t seem to belong to any one period. West’s The House of the Devil is firmly and proudly planted in the 1980s and shares more in common with something like Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby than anything Zombie has directed.
While the storyline may seem pedestrian and almost trite, it is a deliberate and well-paced vehicle to gradually lure the viewer into the film’s harrowing final moments — a subtle slowburn for about an hour that boils over during the shocking final act. And all the while, just as in Polanski’s 1968 classic, there’s an ever-deepening sense of dread and foreboding that keeps the viewer constantly on edge. The longer you wait for that other shoe to drop, the more anxious and unnerved you become. The plot centers on college student Samantha Hughes (Joceline Donahue), who just found the apartment of her dreams but is now faced with the realization that she needs to get a job to pay the rent. Although her amicable new landlady (Dee Wallace) has waived the deposit and last month’s rent, she still needs to come up with the first month’s rent before moving in. After answering a cryptic ad seeking a babysitter, a man agrees to meet her on campus but never shows up. Her lazy and promiscuous college roommate then informs her that the same man called looking for her earlier in the day and when Samantha calls him back, he seems desperate and agrees to double the pay rate if she’ll come out and babysit that night. Initially reluctant and warned against it by her friend Megan (Greta Gerwig), Samantha needs the money and agrees, asking Megan to drive and accompany her to the remote house.
Things seem a little odd from the get-go when the two girls arrive at the large, looming mansion and finally meet Mr. Ulman (Tom Noonan), who confesses that this isn’t a “babysitting” job after all, but rather a gig watching his old and sickly mother. Although Samantha protests and is about to leave, Ulman offers her three times the pay — $300 — to stay for just the one night. She finally agrees to do it, but for $400. Megan senses this is a bad idea and storms off, agreeing to come back and pick up Samantha at the end of the night. Ulman explains that his mother can pretty much take care of herself and he only needs Samantha there in case of an extreme emergency. Samantha is a bit unsettled when she meets Ulman’s wife (Mary Woronov), who seems overly interested in Samantha’s love life and suspiciously comes up from the cellar to greet her. The Ulmans eventually leave and even suggest Samantha order herself a pizza to bide the time. That’s when things start getting really strange. Samantha is unable to reach Megan at home after calling several times (on a dated rotary dial phone) and there are occasional odd noises emitting from upstairs. Tension builds as Samantha starts poking around the house and finds subtle hints that the Ulmans aren’t exactly who they claim to be. Samantha attempts to take her mind off these things by dancing around the house to the music on her Walkman (a rousing rendition of The Fixx’s “One Thing Leads to Another”) and enjoying a pepperoni pizza she has delivered to the house.
I won’t spoil the film’s final harrowing moments by revealing anything else here, but suffice to say it’s very much in the tradition of a classic 1980s era haunted house/demonic cult flick. West does an admirable job at ratcheting up the suspense throughout the film’s running time and is obviously a student of directors like Polanski, Carpenter and Hitchcock when it comes to creating tension through style and setting. There aren’t any cheap tricks or “gotcha” moments here — everything is allowed to unfold organically and it’s your own mind and paranoia that begins to suggest the things you can’t see. Not that the movie is benign and bloodless, either. It earns its R rating with both the chilling final moments and a shockingly violent death about midway; but the bulk of the movie is all about the waiting … and the uncomfortable anticipation of knowing that something is about to happen. It’s a perfect example of the textbook definition of suspense that Hitchcock himself once offered: it’s not the shock of a bomb exploding, but rather the knowledge that a ticking time bomb is underneath the table while two people casually talk, unaware of its existence. That waiting and anticipation is what creates suspense, and West has certainly done his homework. I’m sure The House of the Devil might get dismissed as being too slow or boring for modern audiences who haven’t grown up on a steady diet of classic ‘70s and ‘80s horror films. But for longtime devoted horror aficionados like this writer, it’s a rare delicacy to be relished and savored and another reassuring indication that the horror genre might not be dead after all.
|
Comments (0)