13 Slots for the Best Horror I've Seen in the Past Year
[8 of 13]
The TV Terror Slot
Another twofer!
THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE
“How can a house, just a collection of bricks, wood, and glass, have that much power over people?"
Just as he did on ¡Qué horror! 2017 title Ouija: Origin of Evil, Mike Flanagan masterfully navigates the seas
of traditional horror cinema in his self-described “remix” of Shirley Jackson’s
The Haunting of Hill House.
This time out, unlike the original novel’s
researchers and investigators, we see the Crain family move into Hill House,
with the express aim of flipping it (or, fixing and flipping it, to be more precise).
The house, of course, uninterested in being
renovated and then sold on to some other family foolish enough to open its door
and walk down its shadowy halls, has other ideas…
“This house… it’s a strange house.
“I’ve worked here a long time, and all I can tell you is that it’s just
as stupid and hungry as anything else.
“We don’t stay after dark, Horace and I. And my child is not allowed to
step foot in this place. Not once.”
“For me, the most important thing is if you
remove the supernatural entirely, the story and the character need to be just
as compelling. The supernatural stuff is the easy stuff. But all of that stuff
is really boring to me if it’s not grounded in some kind of really relatable
honest human experience.”
-- Mike Flanagan
“This house… it’s full
of precious, precious things… and they don’t all belong to you…”
Skillfully utilizing the narrative elegance of
non-linear storytelling, Flanagan and company track the family’s ordeals and
progressive unraveling, both in Hill House, and decades after, in a tale which
is by turns chilling and heart-wrenching.
If this were a different kind of story, the Crain
siblings would have taken all the lessons learned from their harrowing stay at
Hill House, and ended up becoming a group of ghost-busting paranormal
investigators.
But in the story this “remix” chooses to tell--a
story more grounded in real life and the vagaries of family--what we end up
with are a bunch of scarred, f*cked up individuals, all dealing as best they
can with the trauma of their childhoods.
And this, quite possibly, is the best aspect of
this particular take on the original material: that the dots that connect the
children they once were with the adults they eventually become, are so clearly
delineated.
The characterizations--the result of a potent
combination of the character arcs as mapped out in the narrative, and excellent
performances by the cast--are just as solid as the creepy scares.
“You’ve been knocking on that door for years and years and years…
“We could hear you knocking louder all the time, and finally, here you
are…”
“If we were going to be doing this as a long
format, it had to be about the way every family is a haunted house, and
everyone is wrestling with their ghosts from their own childhood and beyond--that
echo through decades.”
-- Mike Flanagan
“I was right here. I didn’t
go anywhere.
“I was right here… I was right here the whole time.
“None of you could see me.
“Nobody could see me.”
Directing the entire season of 10 episodes,
Flanagan brings both an exquisite cinematic eye to the proceedings*, and a
fundamental understanding of the full range of his cast’s capabilities.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t note that amongst an
already formidable collection of actors and actresses**, the paired casting of
Timothy Hutton and Henry Thomas are the cherry-so-red-it’s-very-nearly-black on
top of this ghostly, sinister sundae, a sickly, sweetly rotten treat sprinkled
liberally with mold and familial dysfunction.
“There’s nothing wrong with going at night. It’s just a carcass in the
woods.
“It’s just a carcass in the woods.
“It’s just a carcass… in the woods.”
* Aided by long-time collaborator, cinematographer
Michael Fimognari.
** Shout outs to Annabeth Gish and Dr. Lawrence Jacoby himself, Russ Tamblyn, who may just be overlooked with all the other high-caliber thespianics going on around them.
** Shout outs to Annabeth Gish and Dr. Lawrence Jacoby himself, Russ Tamblyn, who may just be overlooked with all the other high-caliber thespianics going on around them.
Parting Shot: Though I have seen Jan de Bont’s The Haunting, I’ve never read the
original Shirley Jackson novel (I really
should finally get around to it), nor seen the 1963 Robert Wise film adaptation
(which Flanagan seems respectfully in awe of).
As it turns out, Tamblyn also appeared in Wise's version, as the "Luke" character. In Flanagan's "remix," Tamblyn plays Dr. Montague, repurposing the name of the lead investigator in Jackson's original novel. (In Wise's adaptation, that character becomes Dr. Markway.)
Remix, indeed.
As it turns out, Tamblyn also appeared in Wise's version, as the "Luke" character. In Flanagan's "remix," Tamblyn plays Dr. Montague, repurposing the name of the lead investigator in Jackson's original novel. (In Wise's adaptation, that character becomes Dr. Markway.)
Remix, indeed.
“Our family is like an unfinished meal to that house…"
And, on a bittersweet note, what, at the moment, seems to be the final ¡Qué horror! appearance of Channel Zero (which nonetheless makes ¡Qué horror! history by breaking Hannibal's record as the only multi-season TV show to have all its seasons make a place for themselves in the ¡Qué horror! main rundowns; Channel Zero did it four times... and wasn't a single serialized narrative).
Congratulations, Channel Zero.
And sniff. R.I.P.
CHANNEL ZERO:
THE DREAM DOOR
And, on a bittersweet note, what, at the moment, seems to be the final ¡Qué horror! appearance of Channel Zero (which nonetheless makes ¡Qué horror! history by breaking Hannibal's record as the only multi-season TV show to have all its seasons make a place for themselves in the ¡Qué horror! main rundowns; Channel Zero did it four times... and wasn't a single serialized narrative).
Congratulations, Channel Zero.
And sniff. R.I.P.
CHANNEL ZERO:
THE DREAM DOOR
“Roses are... lazy. And dishonest.”
“‘Dishonest’?”
“Mmm! Pretty flower! And then a minute later, you’re bleeding!”
Well, hell-loooooo, Pretzel Jack!
Turning to Cronenberg*** for some conceptual inspiration,
Channel Zero does an awesome quasi-slasher
impression with the E.L. Katz-helmed The
Dream Door, where an imaginary childhood friend and protector becomes
something far more sinister in adulthood.
Channel Zero delivers a fourth
winning season by giving us yet another “flavor” of horror (to borrow Channel Zero creator Nick Antosca’s
term).
Just as Butcher’s Block was different from No-End House,
which was, in turn, different from Candle Cove, so is The Dream Door
different from any of the previous seasons.
Gorier and slightly more savage than its
predecessors, it’s a tale that delves into the potentially brutal pain of
complete honesty in a relationship, a story about love and secrets and
distrust, and the intersection where all three collide… with a super-creepy
contortionist clown…
“You know, it’s funny. In Jungian psychology, doors are kind of a thing.
“This whole deal with your basement, is… it’s fascinating.
*** As well as Lynch, particularly for a brief, yet
unsettlingly poignant bit past the halfway mark.
(The Haunting
of Hill House OS’ & Channel Zero:
The Dream Door OS courtesy of impawards.com.)
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