shoutout to horror movies where men simply can’t be seen, gotta be one of my favorite genres

really love when a horror movie introduces outlandish complex storytelling that actually works in context and also holds back just the right amount to avoid spelling out all of those complexities to the audience… what a sexy fun concept

jump scares should be illegal honestly

Adding half star for having a character's phone be on a charger while they sleep instead of just keeping it disconnected on the night stand like a sociopath.

I saw this 3 hours ago and still am yet to unclench my butthole.

Features one of the most effective jumpscares I’ve ever seen - left me absolutely rattled.

The drhcu (depressed rebecca hall cinematic universe)

63

The Night House doesn't necessarily stick the landing with its narrative revelations, but until then, it's an ambiguous and startling slice of psychological horror. Rebecca Hall's performance is the foundation of a film that plays with physical space before finding its way into the darker recesses of depression and mental health. Its strongest ideas stem from concepts of mazes, paths, and otherworldly realms that provide an evil space for those struggling with a lack of purpose, a void in the material world. As a film that loses its way, it does so in a fashion that feels purposeful. Moment to moment, this is an unsettling piece of work, and well worth seeing.

the reveal of *~what’s going on~* is kinda lame, and i wish it had gone in like multiple other directons. mostly negligible though bc otherwise this rocks

Simple mazes and reversed spaces confuse dark forces.
˙sǝɔɹoɟ ʞɹɐp ǝsnɟuoɔ sǝɔɐds pǝsɹǝʌǝɹ puɐ sǝzɐɯ ǝldɯıS

The Night House has some intriguing things going for it. It builds great tension leading up to its handful of jump scares and disorienting turns. It’s slick but not without some bramble. It’s anchored by a genuinely fascinating Rebecca Hall performance full of nerves and bitterness due to the character’s journey through fresh grief as a widow. Dig the sequence with the broken mirror in the bathroom. But the directions I was thinking it was going in — doppelgängers? parallel universes? — was more interesting than what it turned into. It’s undone by a truly baffling ending that negates the promise of the earlier parts of the film.

But I’ve got to ask, why has horror become obsessed with being so bluntly about grief and trauma? Why is metaphor taking a passenger seat for such surface level renderings of these themes?