A haunted inn vs. a Silent House

I am flying solo on this one because William is too enlightened for horror. (And oddly enough, we're still together.) My best friend flew out for a visit last weekend, so, as is our tradition, we did it up right with lots of blood, guts, and ghosts. Our picks included Silent House and the Innkeepers, two recent low-budget horror flicks I'd been really excited to see.

We've seen a lot of gimmicks in horror in recent years, like POV/"found footage" ([Rec]/Quarantine/Paranormal Activity 1-3) and films that look from top to bottom like they were made in a different decade (The House of the Devil). In the best of the these, the gimmick is a bonus, the icing on the cake of a movie that works in its own right. The events in the latest entry, Silent House, occur in real time and depict 85 harrowing minutes in the life of Sarah, played by Elizabeth Olsen. The camera follows Sarah through the ruins of her all but condemned childhood home, where she's being stalked by someone or something sinister. To elaborate further would be to spoil in a major way.

The real-time device works best at the start, when Sarah's situation begins to deteriorate from unsettling in some unidentifiable way to truly threatening. Olsen's performance as Sarah actually does more for the movie than the camera work or even the pitch blackness of the house, which raises too many questions about just how this house was rendered completely light-tight in broad daylight. (A neat touch, yes, but I spent too much time wondering about its plausibility for it to be truly effective.) Rather than peering out from under matted tresses like a homeless waif, she puts those big Olsen eyes to good use looking absolutely terrified for nearly the entire duration. But despite her best efforts to convince the audience of how scared she is (and they are admirable efforts), her performance can't turn a mediocre, seen-it-before scenario into something truly frightening. The experience of watching Silent House is one with which horror fans are all too familiar. There is a ramping up period, full of WTF? moments, where every little thing makes you jump as you try to figure out what's really going on or what's going to happen next. The best of these sustain this feeling all the way up to a satisfying conclusion. In the ones that miss the mark, you figure out fairly early on what's in store (not hard in this case if you've ever seen a movie with a similar twist, and there are many), which realization leads to a deflating depression, followed by acceptance, resignation, and ultimately eye-rolling. I wanted this to be so unique, but once my companion began whispering things next to me like "why are you going in the basement?" "could you breathe any louder?" "if all this is because she's been breathing in mold, I'm going to be pissed," I knew I was in trouble. For me this one had a lot of promise but fell short of a satisfying payoff.

Like Silent House, The Innkeepers takes a simple premise and goes somewhere new with it, but with more success. Another set piece featuring a small cast, an isolated location, and plenty of "don't go in the basement" moments, this one was so fresh and fun that I'm willing to overlook the flaws, the unanswered questions, and the absence of many real honest-to-goodness scares. Nothing terribly new plot-wise—Claire and Luke, bored employees at an inn with only three guests on its last weekend of business, decide to do some amateur ghost-hunting. Through EVPs and strategically placed cameras, they try to capture evidence of the lingering spirit of Madeline O'Malley, a jilted bride who died at the inn under suspicious circumstances and is said to haunt it. Naturally, their efforts stir up forces better left alone.

Fans of Ti West (of 2009's gimmick-that-works The House of the Devil) will recognize his style, with signature humor and a careful attention to setting. I loved how not-creepy the Yankee Pedlar Inn was. It reminded me of times I've visited a so-called "haunted" site, where you expect a pervading sense of dread and full-body apparitions around every corner, but once inside, it's a nice little B&B like any other. Though the inn takes center stage, the movie really belongs to Sara Paxton, who as Claire is one of the most adorable and relatable horror movie heroines I've ever encountered. Her performance makes The Innkeepers is a genuinely funny film. Also worth mentioning is an appearance by Kelly McGillis, whose aging actress-turned-medium will make you feel simply ancient if you grew up on Top Gun.

I don't know if it was necessary to divide the movie into "chapters"—it seemed like a bit of forced quirkiness in a movie that didn't need it—but again, I was so taken by Claire's bored front-desk drone that I didn't necessarily mind. The unconventional ending avoids a certain genre cliche that I always feel cheated by, so I was grateful for that. There is an unexpected amount of humor here, but there's also a greater cost to the characters in the end than the lighthearted build-up prepared me for.

Final analysis - I would liken Silent House to a three-legged puppy. Imperfect, but totally lovable.

-Kristen

New Blog, New Year, very first review.

     Welcome to Kristen's and my brand new blog for, but not limited to, movies. As the State of Union drones on in the background we will review Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. Our first viewing of the new year was a good one. Today the Oscar nominations (http://oscar.go.com/nominees) were announced, and Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close was on the list for Best Picture. If I had seen this before I made my Best/Worst of 2011, this movie would have been at the top.
     Having never read the novel by Jonathan Safran Foer, I was only going with the knowledge that it had something to do with 9/11. The events of 9/11 were but a backdrop to this story. This was a story of loss, guilt, and retrieval. A beloved father and husband played by Tom Hanks died in the Twin Tower attacks on 9/11. You are introduced to him as a devoted and steadfast father. A year after the tragedy, a secret of that tragic day still haunting the son, Oskar, played by Thomas Horn, is introduced to a new secret in the form of a key. This one little insignificant object brings Oskar into a whole new realm. His character is introduced to The Renter, played by Oscar nominee Max von Sydow, every corner of the 5 boroughs, and his instability in dealing with life, which throws his neurosis into overload. At times his Asperger's-like symptoms honestly make me want to throttle him. His attitude and demeanor are implausibly accepted throughout his search. But once the secret of the key and the guilt of his own secret are expelled and relieved, a normalcy and compassion returns in time to mark some touching and poignant scenes between him and his mother, played by Sandra Bullock.
     During one of those scenes, an actual deafening silence filled the theater. I appreciated this, and it was exactly what the scene needed. If you do not shed a tear during that, please go and make sure you have a heart. I would like to say I am appreciative of Tom Hanks not cluttering this film with himself, and letting it be. Max von Sydow played an interesting role where he was a mute, but the communication flowed seamlessly. Also the lack of backstory for his character felt right for me. The director Stephen Daldry wanted to tell Oskars story, not the entire familys. The adaptation worked.  A definite contender and smart choice.
      Those having experienced loss of any magnitude, especially those on a close and personal level, will leave being touched and understood.

-William

     I'm coming from a slightly different perspective, having read the novel over the course of two days, only a couple of weeks back, and falling completely under its spell. I knew that what I was doing was probably putting a serious damper on my moviegoing experience, but I went ahead and did it anyway because I just love to be able to go around saying, "I haven't seen it yet, but I've read the book." So as it tends to go, I liked Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, but it did not quite meet my expectations.

     It goes without saying that the book is always better than the movie, but some stories just work better as books. This is one. For starters, I have a general disdain for films that rely heavily on voiceovers. I have the book to tell me the story; I want the movie to show me the story. That being said, the few times this film does allow the images to speak for themselves, it’s stunning.

    The character of Oskar is also much easier to take on the page than on the screen. Reading the book, I was thinking "Asperger's?" but Foer never explicitly says this. Mentioning his inconclusive diagnosis in the movie made Oskar much more sympathetic (though he still grates on the nerves).

Final thoughts:

- Max von Sydow’s Supporting Actor nomination goes to show how much he was able to convey with very little screen time and not a single spoken line. You end up wanting to know more about him but get the idea that it is essential to his character that he be kept shrouded in mystery. It’s not. Read the book, and you’ll know his entire story, and it’s just as compelling as Oskar’s (and a perfect parallel to it). I would have loved to see his survival of the Dresden bombing, and his tortured romance with Oskar's grandmother (who also could have been much more developed), unfold on the screen.

- I know Sandra Bullock already had her year with The Blind Side, but her performance here was another highlight. Heartbreaking and pretty much what makes the movie at all Oscar-worthy to begin with.

-Was that Jonathan Safran Foer on the subway?

I guess all I can say is that this was a lovely supplement to the novel. As with all movies adapted from books, I wanted more. What both the book and the movie captured beautifully was the reminder that life is fragile, and the moments we have with our loved ones are finite. Both leave you wanting to grab on to the person you love most and not let go.

-Kristen