I always try to produce a worthwhile list around Halloween here at Film as Art, because October 31 and its festivities have always been a time of movie watching for my family. You eat turkey and watch football on Thanksgiving; you open presents and enjoy (or survive) family on Christmas. But Halloween is always a little vaguer: Those of us who are too old to Trick or Treat prefer to spend the time at parties watching scary movies. At my home, it’s usually up to me to pick what we’ll be watching to scare the daylights out of us on that dark evening (my wife picks and mixes the drinks, so it’s a fair trade). It’s been that way ever since I was eight, when I suggested to my mother on Halloween that we stay up late and watch Night of the Living Dead on a local television station. It was my virgin zombie experience, and it proved to be one of the most profound cinematic moments in my life. But that’s another story.
Haunted house films are particularly good for Halloween night, because it’s easier to believe that creaks from behind your refrigerator are otherworldly in origin when ghosts are coming to your door asking for candy and jack-o-lanterns are flicking menacingly through your window. That’s just the right frame of reference. It helps that the haunted house genre is generally fun anyway, and often terrifying in its implication that the familiarity of your home can suddenly become upstaged by the danger of supernatural forces. Like any fantasy genre, a haunted house film isn’t difficult to do badly (The Amityville Horror, 13 Ghosts, the Poltergeist sequels come immediately to mind), but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t plenty that work marvelously to instill us with dread for our houses’ creaks and groans.
Haunted house films generally fall into certain formula that we can easily detect: A group of people (usually a family) moves into an ancient, usually monolithic mansion that seems to be an ideal, happy home, until Forces already dwelling there decide that they don’t like the company. The ghosts begin will small, subtle disturbances as warning shots of sorts, but they generally end with big-budgeted free-for-alls that leave little room to question the nature of their haunting. The family, in the meantime, range from skeptical to full-out believers, and these positions will be challenged (particularly the skeptic’s) as the film progresses. They learn about the Dark Secrets that have caused the house to be haunted; sometimes, rectifying the crimes can de-haunt their new home. More often than not, though, the family simply wises up and opts to foreclose, so the next victim in line can move in and get terrorized.
Below is a nice, wide assortment of haunted house films that I have seen and enjoyed over the years, and they basically follow the above formula. I have selected 17 films because that number is more interesting (for me) than a typical top 10 list; in any case, I’m not claiming that any of these are the top of anything (though some of them are)—I simply enjoy them and recommend them as superior examples of the genre. Any of them would be fine Halloween viewing while you’re servicing the little ghosts at your door, which is why exactly why I’m listing them. I’ve also categorized them into sub-genres for you, so you can determine exactly what level you would like to be scared. Depending on your threshold, the most squeamish in your groups will either thank you or hit you, and you in turn can thank me or hit me. No, really.
Classical:
Classical films in the haunted house genre generally follow the prototypical tropes I have listed above. Below are my favorite examples.
The Uninvited, 1944, directed by Lewis Allen. Here is a perfect illustration of a well-written classical ghost story, told straightforwardly without any twists or surprises—only the chills that its standard haunted house plot brings. The cast, headed by Ray Milland, is convincing, and the séance scene has never been topped.
The Haunting, 1963, directed by Robert Wise. What’s extraordinary about this flick is its implication of dread without the direct appearance from any ghosts. It concerns a group of people have agreed to stay overnight in a haunted mansion to test the validity of its ghostly rumors, and what unfolds is a riveting psychological thriller in which specters manifest themselves through each characters’ worst fears. Rickety staircases here go farther than Freddy Krueger could ever hope to tread in this truly scary film (a word to the wise, though: Avoid the terrible remake, which shoots for cheesy special effects over the effective subtly demonstrated here).
The Changeling, 1979, directed by Peter Medak. Recovering from a recent personal tragedy, George C. Scott moves into a New England mansion to recuperate. He quickly discovers that the house harbors its own share of pain, as the ghost of a little child bids Scott to do its deadly bidding. This was a traditional ghost story that flew under the radar in an age of slasher films; it has maintained much-deserved cult longevity for its creepy visuals and superb acting from Scott.
The Others, 2001, directed by Alejandro Amenábar. It’s so nice to see a subdued exercise in restrain in an age of big-budgeted epics. This film, certainly among the best-looking haunted house films around, concerns a World War II-era mother and two children’s experience in a new mansion where, yes, ghosts most certainly dwell. I appreciated the rich texture of the details, such as the two children who will die if exposed to too much sunlight. The director’s insistence to never overdo the thrills for cheap tricks is also refreshing. The film is effectively quiet in its anxiety, and it builds up to a jolting twist ending that it certainly earns.
Revisionist:
Revisionist films reconsider the classical elements and attempt to stand them on their head. The results are more philosophical approaches to the genre (i.e. what if the house isn’t haunted at all, and we are only haunted by our own fears?) that both embrace and critique conventions.
The Innocents, 1961, directed by John Clayton. The best adaptation of Henry James’ novella The Turn of the Screw (read that if you haven’t), about a new governess sent to a large house to tutor two orphans. She ultimately discovers that the children might be haunted by the ghosts of their previous mentors, but watch carefully the way that the film cautiously suggests that it might all be the active imagination of the new governess’ deranged mind. This is the best haunted house film around; if you only plan to watch one, make it this one.
The Shining, 1980, directed by Stanley Kubrick. If you only see two haunted house movies, watch this one after The Innocents. It is a startling horror epic that suggests our true ghostly forces come from within our own depraved natures, not necessarily from the phantoms that haunt our premises (even though they probably exist too). Jack Nicholson plays one of his most complex roles as a man who is either possessed by his own demons or helplessly overcome by real ghosts. Neither perspective will save his family from his violence rampages. Claustrophobic, truly terrifying, and utterly brilliant.
House by the Cemetery, 1981, directed by Lucio Fulci. A new family moves into an old, dusty mansion, only to discover a ghostly girl living in pictures on the wall and a Frankenstein-like creature lurking in the basement. Italian gore-meister Fulci’s answer to Kubrick’s The Shining is a powerful visual experience in its own right, stripping the haunted house genre of all its unnecessary plot conventions and instead focusing on raw, repugnant visuals to jolt our most disturbed senses. And we certainly jolt at this nightmarish gore-fest, which is gross and frightening in about equal proportion.
Session 9, 2001, directed by Brad Anderson. Five men renovate a run-down insane asylum, which may or may not be haunted. In any case, someone is definitely up to no good in its dark corners, plotting each man against one another in a deadly game of paranoia. Give this terrifying and cleverly-written little indie time and it could very well become The Shining of our day. Revisionist haunted house movies like to suggest we are only haunted by our own traumatizing lives, even if we blames ghosts. Session 9 never even suggests the possibility of ghosts, and instead reveals that our own trauma alone is enough overcome us with unspeakable horrors. If you only watch three haunted house movies, watch this one after The Innocents and The Shining. It’s one of the best horror films in years.
Eye-Candies:
Overblown exercises with more brawn than brain. These types of film are big on special effects and small on their capacity to make them matter beyond their own good looks. Eye-candies often are so overplayed that they grow tongue-in-cheek, even though they are generally serious attempts at the genre. Still, that doesn’t keep them from being a good time.
The Haunted Palace, 1963, directed by Roger Corman. One of many Corman-directed Poe adaptations (though the script is actually based on a story by H.P. Lovecraft), and certainly the most outlandishly-plotted. Vincent Price plays the inheritor of an old castle (the same castle seen in every other Corman horror film) that, yes, harbors a dark secret. In this case, though, the premises (and the whole town, actually) are infested not with ghosts, but with mutants! Great schlock all around, and as good looking as any of Corman’s low-budget rampages through plastic sets.
The Legend of Hell House, 1973, directed by John Hough. A preposterously delightful horror film with a similar plot to The Haunting, but with a very different type of energy to burn. This one is a reckless, high-energy potboiler in which several professionals interested in psychic phenomena spend the night in “the Mount Everest of Haunted Houses.” With dialogue like that, how can you resist? It’s a stylish detective story that holds together far better than its preposterous story gives it any reason to, thanks mainly to a dignified cast and visuals that suggest more than they show, even with its over-the-top ending.
Poltergeist, 1982, directed by Tobe Hooper. Hooper (of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre) has the director’s credit, but everyone knows that this is producer Steven Spielberg’s show. It’s got all of his trademarks: Big special effects, a happy family, a cute little girl, and a rousing (albeit non-John Williams) musical score. If Spielberg had been credited as a director, it would go down as one of his lesser works—it’s all style over substance, but it’s a great style anyway.
The Devil’s Backbone, 2001, Guillermo del Toro. Here is a visually delightful, very unconventional ghost story about a haunted orphanage in post-World War I Spain. It contains some of the most arresting visuals concerning ghosts that I have ever seen, and certainly the dreamy images of an undetonated bomb sitting in the middle of the orphanage is a power metaphor for war. The ending is over-the-top, and certainly del Toro is first and foremost interesting in eccentric pictures, but this is surely a masterpiece. If you only watch four haunted house movies (tee hee), watch this one after Session 9 and The Shining, and The Innocents.
Spoofs:
The same old conventions, played them for laughs. (A black ghost?!?!!?)
Old, Dark House, 1932, directed by James Whale. The comedic tones that Whales suggested in The Bride of Frankenstein reveal themselves in full bloom here. This is not a ghost story per se, but instead plays deliciously with haunted stereotypes by revealing the worst trepidations realized by the reluctant inhabitants of this old, dark house on a rainy night. Boris Karloff plays a psychopath, which basically ensures that this is a good movie.
Hold that Ghost, 1941, directed by Arthur Lubin. Abbott and Costello do to haunted houses what they would later to do Frankenstein. If you’ve got kids at home and you don’t want to scare the daylights out of them, this is the one to watch. The film cleverly plays with various haunted house clichés; its most successful gags involve trap doors and vanishing bodies, but the whole film is littered with great slapstick. No real ghosts are ever present here either, but that doesn’t stop Bud Costello from being his trademark cry-baby self. Pretty predictable, but fun.
Odd-Balls:
Follows none of the conventions. Not one. Or, as Groucho Marx said, “I wouldn’t want to join any club that would have me as a member.”
Cries and Whispers, 1972, directed by Ingmar Bergman. Bergman’s masterpiece of dialogue and guilt deals with three sisters living in a dark mansion, haunted by their repressed guilt and bitterness at one another. Not a horror film, but it contains surely one of the most terrifying sequences in the movies when one of the sisters, after she is dead, speaks to the others from beyond the grave. This film suggests that houses don’t need ghosts or evil to be haunted; our own painful memories are enough to instill us with fear and misery.
Alien, 1979, directed by Ridley Scott. A deadly alien stalks a gigantic space vessel in this much-acclaimed science fiction thriller, but consider its tropes carefully: A dark, gothic environment filled with shadows and decay; a deadly, supernatural force lurking in the walls; a dark secret that the crewman increasingly realize that they have inherited. Isn’t this film simply a sci-fi variation of the haunted house genre? F/X spectacles like Event Horizon and Ghosts of Mars tried to literally update ghostly presences into space, but Alien, with its noiseless dread and stupendously claustrophobic set design, succeeds where all the others failed, even when the enemy becomes a creature of science fiction instead of a phantom. That’s because Scott is more concerned with panic than he is with violence, and the emphasis works to create a truly disquieting experience.
My Neighbor Totoro, 1988, directed by Hayao Miyazaki. Miyazaki is the greatest living animator of family entertainment, and Totoro is an utterly delightful fable of benevolent forest spirits living in an old house built in enchanted woods. The film concerns two children and a father who encounter these spirits while they try to cope with a serious illness that has bedridden their mother/wife, and how their ghostly surroundings help them deal with the often sad realities of existence. The film is basically a series of breathtakingly imaginative images strung together, all dealing with spirits dedicated to kindness and hope rather anger and revenge. I’m not sure if this is ideal Halloween viewing, but it is still one of the best animated films ever made, so I’m including it for those of you who stumble upon this article after Halloween. There’s simply no excuse for missing it.
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me: danel_the_tinman@hotmail.com
