When I went and saw Old in the cinema, the trailer for this movie blew me away. The Night House; a movie that would not have been on my radar if not for that evening. When Melbourne’s latest pandemic came around, and cinemas were displaced, The Night House seemed to get lost in the shuffle, and it didn’t seem like it was going to get released in my home state at all. But, lo and behold, The Night House has found a home on Disney+, and so, it’s finally available; the latest spooky thriller I’ve been awaiting.
After her husband’s unexpected death by suicide, Beth (Rebecca Hall) is left alone in her big house on the lake, built by her once seemingly happy and healthy husband on brighter days. Reminiscing through the throes of sorrow, Beth discovers photos of another woman on her husband’s phone, and confusing sketches of the house plans, drawn by husband Owen (Evan Jonigkeit), that appear to mimic their own house backwards. Beth’s dreams are vivid, or are they episodes, that feel like Owen’s presence is still in the house at night; while details in the daytime start nagging, suggesting that maybe Beth didn’t know her husband at all. Beth drinks heavily as she searches for answers, believing in an afterlife for the first time. David Bruckner is at the helm, while the script is written by Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski.
From the trailer, The Night House struck me like one of those movies based off a successful novel or short story; novels like my mother would read – novels like most mothers would read, and every now and then you get a Gone Girl, so it’s worth paying attention. But this is not an adaptation, but a straight-up screenplay and I think it makes the movie’s accomplishment all the more impressive. The first fifteen-minutes move like a novel, where there’s hardly a word spoken, and you’re left to fill in how Beth is coping for yourself – I pretty much narrated her actions in my head, as if reading off a page; I don’t know if anyone else does that, or I’m a crazy person, but that’s me! The Night House excels from what I think Michael from ‘Lessons from the Screenplay’ refers to as ‘2+2’ storytelling, in his YouTube video for No Country for Old Men – that is, you give the audience enough information to figure it out for themselves, instead of bogging them down with exposition. In that wordless first fifteen-minutes, we see Beth come home with a casserole and throw it in the bin, which says to me that she’s hiding her true frustrations when she goes outside the house, putting on a brave face. Then following on from that, Beth is watching TV with the casserole half-eaten in front of her, which tells me that her emotions are unsteady, and she’s not strong enough to follow through on her convictions right now. I can gather that all from a casserole, and you can too – as, as the cliché goes, a picture tells a thousand words.
For a large portion through the middle of this movie the tension just doesn’t go away – exactly what you want from a mysterious supernatural thriller. The dream sequences are shuddering, with Beth watching herself, and women jumping off cliffs – the moment where Beth comes through the house door at night and sees herself waking on the couch the next morning is genius. I remember the tension broke for me when neighbour Mel (Vondie Curtis-Hall) gives us some details about what the heck has been going on around this house, and it gives me another opportunity to point out how the ‘2+2’ theory extends to the dialogue. Mel makes a plea, and says he swears ‘on Shelly’s grave’ – we’ve never met a Shelly, and he’s never mentioned Shelly before, but we can piece together that Shelly is someone who he cares about – a wife, a previous dog; the detail doesn’t matter as much as the sense of earnestness in that moment, and that it feels like natural conversation. There’re a few examples of this within The Night House, but I think back on how I believe natural dialogue is one of the many reasons why Star Wars was so successful – the Millennium Falcon is the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs – we mightn’t know what any of that means, but we can tell that Han Solo is gloating, and he thinks it’s impressive, and the moment feels authentic within the world of the movie. Movies often get smashed for heavy exposition, and when you see a natural flow done well, it looks easy, but it must be a difficult skill, or more movies would have it. I think adapting from novels has an advantage, because often written from one character’s perspective, the internal logic is already present, and movies just have to set the action accordingly. Movies are a visual medium, and perhaps too much focus on what has to happen, and less on the deeper drives underneath, lead to a problem of exposition, which The Night House has avoided thoroughly.
I’m going to touch specifically on the ending now, and, I would have been okay if the movie had ended with Beth discovering that Owen was a murderer, and the wacky dreams she was having all pointed towards the duality within him, that made him a loving husband to her face, and a killer in the same man. Perhaps the ‘nothing’ in reference, was to how he kills these women and feels nothing, or how the look in these victims’ eyes before they die confirms that they go nowhere and become nothing – I don’t know. But the movie commits to its supernatural elements, and even if the ‘nothing’ is supposed to be some sort’ve fancy metaphor for the emptiness of grief, the movie is definitely more than that on the whole. For as much as I had been enjoying this movie throughout, I thought we were getting cooky when Beth starts caressing the entity and running her fingers through its ghost hair – I’ve come to accept teenage love with vampires through Twilight, but ghost sex might be pushing my supernatural prejudices too far. But the ghost is not Owen, it’s the darkness that corrupted Owen to murder, and it’s all about Beth, for since she died and was brought back to life, the Nothing feels like he missed out on a shiny new soul – it sounds stupid, but the way the movie handles it is captivating. When Claire (Sarah Goldberg) arrives at the house the next morning, I had no idea where the movie was going to go, or what she was going to find, and I like that feeling.
Who thinks Rebecca Hall is almost doing her best Aubrey Plaza impression for Beth – she’s dark and edgy as if searching for joy. It’s one of those performances where you’re a little unsure what you’re actually seeing, because Beth can be obnoxious, but since she’s recently lost her husband, she’s allowed to be a bit of a dick; yet, not really knowing how happy Beth was before Owen died, adds to the movie’s intrigue, for Beth may not be a reliable witness. In honesty, I assumed I hadn’t seen enough of Rebecca Hall to know all that she has to offer, but flicking through her filmography I realised I’ve seen her a few times, and she’s never quite registered beyond Iron Man 3. I knew the face, but I even forgot she was in Godzilla vs. Kong earlier this year. But cutting to the chase, Hall is fucking amazing in this movie, playing a mature scream queen in her own way with a grief-stricken looseness that definitely elevates The Night House. Shout-out to Sarah Goldberg too, for as much her part as the character of Claire she brings to life. At the Academy Awards each year there’s awards for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress, but what about Best Friend – if anyone out there feels like they have a friend half as good as Claire, then you must acknowledge your good fortune.
I’ll pat myself on the back for sticking with my determination with this movie, but I tip my hat to the people behind putting the trailer together, and piquing my interest in the first place. I can have a love/hate relationship with trailers, but credit where credit is due for a good one. I’m grateful for my year with female-led horror movies more than most – I’ve had positive experiences with ghosts in Things Seen and Heard, mystery in The Woman in the Window and tension in Run, but I think The Night House rolls over all of them, combining their elements to produce my favourite experience of the lot. I kind’ve feel like I’ve got my own The Invisible Man movie now, in The Night House, after I was in the minority for disliking the Elizabeth Moss version early last year, but that’s another argument. Anyway ego, back in the cage, because the real applause goes to the movie itself; the director, writers, and actors. I really like The Night House, and I think you should too.
4.5
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