Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		3.5
Audio		3.5
Extras		2.5
Overall		3.5

The House of the Devil Blu-ray Movie Review

“It’s happening. No matter what you do it won’t stop. It can’t be stopped.”

Reviewed by Casey Broadwater January 21, 2010

Some things were better in the ‘80s. Very few things, mind you, but biggies: Saturday morning cartoons, for instance. Or how about our national nemesis? I’d take a Cold War with the Red Menace over an actual war with terrorists any day, threat of nuclear annihilation or not. Best of all, though, were the horror movies. Fright films in the ‘90s, like the Scream series, grew increasingly detached, satirical even, winking at the audience to call attention to their ironic use of by then-clichéd genre conventions. In the ‘00s—and feel free to pronounce that however you’d like—the so-called “torture porn” of Hostel and the Saw franchise infected theaters like a cinematic venereal disease, offering vivisectional gross-outs instead of genuine scares. But horror in the ‘80s, while far from innocent, was much more playful, and less determinedly grim. This was an age when blood flowed bright Crayola red and wasn’t CGI’d in during post-production, a period when “spooky” was a better adjective than “repulsive,” and a time when horror movies didn’t feel obligated to move with the brisk pacing of action films. Tell me, did zombies sprint across parking lots in the ‘80s? Of course not, they did the rigor mortis shuffle, just as God and George A. Romero intended. The House of the Devil, a 2009 film by director Ti West, does the dance of the dead too. It’s a spot-on period piece and homage to Reagan-era horror that wears its affinity for the ‘80s like a pair of high-waisted, acid- washed jeans.

MMVIII? Looks like it was made in MCMLXXXII.

Not many women can pull off that look—there’s a fine line between high-waisted and the poochy bulge of mom jeans—but relative newcomer Jocelin Donahue has the figure and grace to make it work. Donahue plays Samantha, a quiet college sophomore looking to escape the squalor of dorm life. She finds a perfect apartment next to a church, but even though the landlady (horror icon Dee Wallace) agrees to waive the deposit, Sam still needs to come up with $300 by Monday. As (mis)fortune would have it, she spots a “Baby $itter Needed” sign on campus and is summoned to a creepy old estate by Mr. Ulman (Manhunter’s Tom Noonan), an equally creepy, gentleman who has some urgent business to attend to with his even creepier wife (Mary Woronov, The Hills Have Eyes). Oh, and did I mention there’s a looming lunar eclipse? Sam is bit unnerved, especially after Mr. Ulman explains that he and his wife have no child—the gig is actually to look after his mother-in-law, who lives upstairs—but when the pay gets raised to $400, she agrees and settles in for the evening. Cold hard cash, as always, overrules reason. But we begin to get the sneaking suspicion that Mr. Ulman might very well get his money back by the end of the night. As Sam explores the house, poking through closets and drawers with a combination of idle curiosity and fidgety unease, she senses that the Ulman family might not be who they seem. Of course, by this point, a diabolical plan has already been set into motion.

The ‘80s were a great time for horror films, but they also gave us a real life “satanic panic,” where some 70% of adults believed that devil-worshiping cults were sacrificing babies and raping virgins in suburban basements all across America. (Coincidentally, I’m sure, this was about the same time that my parents threw away all of my He-Man toys.) As you can probably guess from the title, The House of the Devil presupposes that these Satan-centric social gatherings—which were actually the product of a few psychoanalysts’ overactive imaginations— did, in fact, take place. It’s not a novel premise, but the old satanic kill cult is one of the less- exploited horror tropes, post-Roger Corman anyway. The plot hinges on a Rosemary’s Baby-style conspiracy, the creaky, haunting atmosphere is borrowed from The Changeling, and the ghoulish finale channels the occult theatrics of Dario Argento, but The House of the Devil’s familiarity is part of its ample charm. It feels like a film you might have caught at 1 a.m. on basic cable, circa 1983. You can imagine it sitting on a back shelf at the local mom and pop video shop, its VHS sleeve tattered white around the edges and that bitchin’ cover art just begging you to rent it. In fact, I’m willing to bet that you could show this film to a friend who didn’t know any better and convince him that it’s an obscure catalog title from ’82 that M.P.I. dredged up from their archives.

Writer/director Ti West (The Roost) certainly has an eye for the look and conventions of low-budget, early ‘80s filmmaking. He shot The House of the Devil on grainy 16mm film stock, giving it a gritty cinematic texture, and the film is filled with creeping wide-to-tight zooms, long dolly shots, and even a few well-implemented freeze frames (especially in the nostalgic credit sequence). There’s simply nothing to tip off the fact that this wasn’t shot 30 years ago. Check out Sam’s bulky Walkman, the Formica tabletops and wood-paneled walls in the pizza joint, the vintage Coke cups, and yes, the now-quaint fashions, which are period-perfect and certainly not overplayed for laughs. No, West plays it straight as an arrow, giving us an old-school, irony-free homage that makes a slow burn to its raging climax. The pacing will probably throw off younger horror fans, who have been acclimated to quick cuts and big scares from the very first frame, as The House of the Devil is a defiantly Hitchcockian experience, allowing the fear of the unknown to take precedence over in-your-face frights. Sam spends a good three-fourths of the film just wandering around the house, and our dread mounts along with hers as we realize that something could happen at any time.

Admittedly, once all hell does break loose, so to speak, the conclusion comes much too quickly, giving us little time to enjoy the bloody payoff that’s been so fastidiously prepared. The fun—and unease—is in getting there, though, and Jocelin Donahue is an ideal tour guide in this house of horrors. She’s the spitting image of an ‘80s scream queen, and a definite candidate for the lead role in some hypothetical remake of Susperia. At one point she puts on her headphones and does a Risky Business-style dance around the mansion to The Fixx’s “One Thing Leads to Another.” It’s a beautifully performed sequence—Donahue is completely convincing throughout—and though we know she’s just trying to stave off her anxiety, she looks so alive. The awareness is extra painful, then, when she accidentally shatters a vase and we realize that she might not last the night. One thing certainly does lead to another. This is the kind of terror that The House of the Devil offers—the lingering dread of the inevitable— and it’s a welcome change from the cold sadism that has defined many of this decade’s horror films.

The House of the Devil Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

It should tell you something that The House of the Devil is being simultaneously released on Blu-ray, DVD, and VHS (via an Amazon-exclusive DVD/VHS combo pack). This is one film that definitely won't be up for any end-of-the-year awards for stunning picture quality. But that's precisely the point. The film aspires to emulate '80s horror completely, down to the murky, often over-dark visuals. So, in one sense, I'm tempted to give the film a 5 out of 5 video rating simply because this 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer is an accurate representation of director Ti West's every intention. But I also don't want to mislead anyone. Shot on 16mm—which is approximately half the size of a standard 35mm frame—The House of the Devil has a gritty image that's filled corner-to-corner with a buzzing field of chunky grain. While there are a few close-ups that display an admirable degree of fine detail, all things considered, most of the time the combination of grain and 16mm's decreased analog resolution leads to a picture that's noticeably soft. Likewise, colors have been gently faded, like an old pair of over-washed jeans, and opaque black levels crush shadow detail during most of the darker scenes. That said, I didn't notice any compression issues or unnecessary post-production tweaking. So, is it worth buying The House of the Devil on Blu-ray? Well, yes. While the DVD probably looks respectable and the VHS release has an undeniably kitschy appeal, Blu-ray's high definition image gives you the closest approximation of the film's intended theatrical appearance, warts and all. The House of the Devil really does look like it was found in a box in some dusty studio backroom, and I have a feeling true genre fans will be pleased.

The House of the Devil Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

Similarly, the film's DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track isn't going to impress golden-eared audiophiles, but it absolutely nails the sound of '80s horror. The song that plays during the opening credits—with noodling keyboard lines, digital drums, and riff-y guitar—could have easily come from Zombi 2 or some synth-soaked Italian giallo. Later, when we get to the titular house, we get two note cues straight out of an early John Carpenter film. And the main piano theme is as classic and spooky as they come. There's also one impressive track that features violins droning like a swarm of bees; it reminds me of the atonal music we hear whenever the monolith appears in 2001: A Space Odyssey. All of this sounds great, but not particularly full. The rear channels are modestly and intelligently used for creaky haunted house ambience—things start to go bump in the night—although unsurprisingly, the mix is never as immersive as horror films with a more modern sensibility. The sound effects are great, though, and the dialogue is clean, clear, and always discernable. The disc also includes a capable PCM 2.0 stereo track, which is probably even more faithful to the '80s audio aesthetic.

The House of the Devil Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

Audio Commentaries
The disc includes two commentary tracks, both of which are worth a listen if you want to know more about the film. In the first, director Ti West and Jocelyn Donahue have a subdued but informative conversation that addresses all the usual topics, from the story and hectic 18-day shooting schedule, to the audio and set design. The second, featuring Ti West, sound designer Graham Resnik, and producers Larry Fessenden and Peter Phok, is a much wilder, laugh-filled track, the sort where one participant exits mid-way through to go get more beer.

Deleted Scenes (SD, 6:42 total)
Nothing too exciting here, just an overlong phone conversation and a creepy throw-away shot.

In the House of the Devil (SD, 13:34)
There's a whole reel worth of behind-the-scenes footage here—we see make-up, set design, gore effects, rehearsals, etc.—but without interviews or any organizational structure, it runs a little long.

Behind the House of the Devil (1080i, 4:40)
"Polanski, Kubrick and that sort of auteur style of horror filmmaking has always really interested me," says director Ti West, introducing this short featurette that also includes interviews with Jocelin Donahue and Greta Gerwig, who has a brief role as Sam's best friend.

Trailer (SD, 2:08)

The House of the Devil Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

The House of the Devil is a delicious horror throwback that establishes writer/director/editor Ti West as a genre talent to watch. The slower-than-molasses pacing will probably turn off more mainstream horror-hounds, but fans of the classics will be glued to the screen by the syrupy suspense. West proves quite strikingly that you can still make 'em like they used to. Recommended.