The Art of a Pepperoni Pizza
The House of the Devil (2009)
directed by Ti West
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
watched instantly on Netflix
I'm in the camp that believes West has a classic on his hands right up to the last act, when whatever it is he's trying to do comes across as rushed and unsure. Maybe it's the moment when you first see the bodies versus that glimpse into the bathtub, the second scene strange - are those scalps? hair from the same head? - and the first - pentagrams! evisceration! - depressingly familiar. I remember learning about rural cults in college in Maine (creepy), but in movies, Lucifer's minions have never advanced beyond the sad and selfish antagonists of The 7th Victim.
Is that it? That the devil as avatar of earth's demise is too large-scale a foe to seem relevant to a haunted house picture? That real-life Satanists are too depressing, too cruel, and too human to make a movie fun? My one and only book on tape was Rosemary's Baby, and I've never heard a sillier story. I prefer a fictional universe where minor demons and everyday ghosts are plentiful but uninterested in bothering more than one or two people at a time. The traveler on the road, the inheritor of a cabin in the woods, kids who mess up an easy spell and get themselves in trouble.
So let's talk about the elegance of The House of the Devil, what a rich structure the physical home is, and how beautifully it's filmed. How Jocelyn Donahue, as Samantha, gets to know it room by room, and how the camera moves inside, then outside, tracks slowly or holds still. The camera doesn't notice anything supernatural, but West's patience allows the old place in the woods to breathe. Donahue is perfect, believable in her bad decisions and sympathetic from the moment Megan says goodbye. When Megan stops for a cigarette, we realize that Samantha could never have made it anyway; they're both too far from anywhere and anyone, except for the pizza delivery guy.
Yes, for an hour it's really something, unselfconscious (okay, I'm not crazy about the credits) and irony-free. Alright, an hour and change.
directed by Ti West
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
watched instantly on Netflix
I'm in the camp that believes West has a classic on his hands right up to the last act, when whatever it is he's trying to do comes across as rushed and unsure. Maybe it's the moment when you first see the bodies versus that glimpse into the bathtub, the second scene strange - are those scalps? hair from the same head? - and the first - pentagrams! evisceration! - depressingly familiar. I remember learning about rural cults in college in Maine (creepy), but in movies, Lucifer's minions have never advanced beyond the sad and selfish antagonists of The 7th Victim.
Is that it? That the devil as avatar of earth's demise is too large-scale a foe to seem relevant to a haunted house picture? That real-life Satanists are too depressing, too cruel, and too human to make a movie fun? My one and only book on tape was Rosemary's Baby, and I've never heard a sillier story. I prefer a fictional universe where minor demons and everyday ghosts are plentiful but uninterested in bothering more than one or two people at a time. The traveler on the road, the inheritor of a cabin in the woods, kids who mess up an easy spell and get themselves in trouble.
So let's talk about the elegance of The House of the Devil, what a rich structure the physical home is, and how beautifully it's filmed. How Jocelyn Donahue, as Samantha, gets to know it room by room, and how the camera moves inside, then outside, tracks slowly or holds still. The camera doesn't notice anything supernatural, but West's patience allows the old place in the woods to breathe. Donahue is perfect, believable in her bad decisions and sympathetic from the moment Megan says goodbye. When Megan stops for a cigarette, we realize that Samantha could never have made it anyway; they're both too far from anywhere and anyone, except for the pizza delivery guy.
Yes, for an hour it's really something, unselfconscious (okay, I'm not crazy about the credits) and irony-free. Alright, an hour and change.
posted by NPK at 12:01 AM
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