Under a Crimson Moon: "The Night House" Review
★★1/2 (2.5/5)
One of the more difficult challenges faced by genre filmmakers in the 21st century is finding inventive new ways to make audiences react. To successfully make a movie within the framework of a proven formula is to carve clever new pathways into well-explored territories. And in the horror landscape, no route’s been conquered more thoroughly than the haunted house genre.
David Bruckner’s The Night House is a tricky psychological horror movie that creates plenty of stylistic opposition. On one hand, it demonstrates an undying allegiance to the classical haunted house tropes and conventions that spawned it. On the other, you have a clever diversion that obscures the story in an attempt to lull you in with its genre-bending flourishes and labyrinthian structure, though sadly it starts to come apart as a result of its own audacity.
The film’s premise follows Beth (Rebecca Hall), a teacher crippled by depression after her architect husband’s unexpected suicide. When she begins experiencing strange and supernatural occurrences around the house that they shared, Beth is confronted by the dark secrets hidden within its walls—as well as the truth about who her husband really was.
Smart, shifty, and creepily deceptive, The Night House builds to a boiling point for two solid acts, only to crumble under the weight of its not-so-hidden metaphor as it reaches a close. Its twists are thrilling and sharply unpredictable, but its underlying commentary is a bit too obvious to ignore. Many of the film’s best qualities are largely indebted to Rebecca Hall’s flawless performance as a tortured widow in various states of inebriation.
In the aftermath of Owen’s (Evan Jongkeit) suicide, we watch as Beth spirals into an oblivion of brandy and hopelessness. She starts to adopt a morbid sense of humor that prompts discomforting concern from her colleagues and friends, played with raw sincerity by Hall. Her performance pays careful attention to the nuanced vulnerabilities of someone who wears the manifestations of grief on their face really well. In one particular scene out drinking with cohorts, her social skills are achingly sabotaged by a forced smile and faraway stare that does a terrible job of masking the devastation.
David Bruckner’s intelligent direction lends itself to some effective jolting scares and haunting cinematography littered throughout The Night House. His strong instinct for cult horror as seen in 2017’s The Ritual and the unforgettable Amateur Night segment from 2012’s VHS have manifested themselves in a series of terrifying visions that can stop and change direction with whiplash velocity. Bruckner has carved a name for himself in the contemporary horror scene as a director who excels in this stylistic deception. When it comes to sheer filmmaking prowess, his latest may be his finest work yet.
In spite of Bruckner’s refined direction and Hall’s sensational performance, The Night House’s strengths are largely diminished by the weakness of its revelatory moments. By the time its true motives are brought to light, audiences are left wanting more from the movie whose payoff doesn’t quite measure up to its hype. While many will undoubtedly enjoy the surprises this film has to offer, those who see through its clever twists might find it more cemented as the greatest Lifetime movie that Lifetime never made.