There's something to be said for a society that could be scared much more easily than they are now. These late fifties and early sixties horror movies always filled the bill. There was always a hand reaching from behind a curtain to touch a young lady's shoulder, there was always a room where we shouldn't go, there was always Vincent Price. In addition to the introductions at the beginning which I love, especially Elisha Cook, there are all the dark wonderings put forth for us to chew on. Right on cue, something would make us jump, a few minutes would pass, and there it was again. I remember when skulls and skeletons could drive anyone to hysterics. They are tame now; we want more gore, dismemberment, disfigurement. This is a nicely paced mystery story. It could be pretty average but for Price's consistently eerie presence. He is so pained all the time. I imagine he has been seen as the villain in almost every film in which he appears, but we always wonder. The young woman in this movie supplies enough screams for everyone, and well she should. She seems to be the one that is being used over and over. We have the handsome Richard Long who is consistently skeptical as his young romantic lead tells him story after story. She is being set up to shoot Vincent. And then the house, which looks from the outside like a sports museum, has the secrets. Cook keeps reminding us that seven have been killed. He is an absolute mess but we need someone to keep the ghostly element involved. Did anyone think it might be a good idea to do something about that vat of acid in the basement. Did anyone stay in their rooms when all mayhem was breaking out. It doesn't matter because this movie is what it is. A spook show for a Friday night in the late fifties.
Review of House on Haunted Hill
