Movie Review: The Night House (2020)
Synopsis
"The Night House" is a psychological horror film directed by David Bruckner that weaves a chilling narrative centred around grief, memory, and the uncanny. The story revolves around Beth (Rebecca Hall), a recently widowed woman grappling with the sudden death of her husband, Owen (Evan Jonigkeit). Set against the backdrop of a modernist lake house that Owen built, Beth’s mourning period takes a sinister turn as she begins to experience inexplicable phenomena. Shadows flicker in the corners of her vision, unsettling messages echo through the halls, and she discovers troubling secrets about her husband’s life that she never knew.
As she delves deeper into the mysteries surrounding her husband’s apparent suicide, Beth unravels a web of dark secrets and obscure rituals that hint at a deeper malevolence at work. The film expertly intertwines psychological horror with supernatural elements, blurring the line between reality and the manifestations of Beth’s grief. The tension builds steadily, with a hauntingly atmospheric score and unsettling visuals that linger long after the credits roll, presenting a profound examination of loss and the ghosts that follow us, both literally and metaphorically.
Cast List
- Rebecca Hall as Beth
- Evan Jonigkeit as Owen
- Sarah Goldberg as Claire
- Vondie Curtis-Hall as Mel
- Stacey Roca as the Missing Woman
- Timothy Lee DePriest as the Emergency Room Doctor
Review
"The Night House" is a masterclass in atmospheric horror, skilfully utilising elements of psychological tension and existential dread to craft a haunting narrative that resonates on multiple levels. From the opening sequences, Bruckner’s direction establishes a palpable sense of unease; the lake house itself, stark and modern, serves not only as a physical space but as a representation of Beth’s mental state—beautiful yet isolated, a façade hiding many dark corners.
At the heart of this film is Rebecca Hall’s powerful performance as Beth. Hall brilliantly conveys the emotional turmoil of a woman in deep mourning. Her raw vulnerability is palpable as she oscillates between profound sorrow and unexpected moments of strength. The film’s success hinges on her ability to portray a character whose reality is shrouded in grief and anxiety, and she delivers a layered performance that captures Beth’s descent into despair. Each of her interactions, whether with her friend Claire (Sarah Goldberg) or Mel (Vondie Curtis-Hall), an investigator who helps her navigate the mystery surrounding Owen’s death, is charged with emotional significance.
The narrative is meticulously crafted to keep viewers on edge, with twists and revelations that reveal the complexities of Owen’s character and the secrets harboured in their marriage. The cinematography by Nikolaus Summerer is nothing short of breathtaking, using shadow and light to create a sense of claustrophobia that mirrors Beth’s psychological state. There are moments where the camera lingers just a beat too long, amplifying the tension and inviting the audience to feel the weight of Beth’s isolation. Every room of the lake house holds the echo of past memories and, as Beth begins to uncover the truth, the architecture almost feels alive, a character in its own right.
The film excels in its ability to intertwine the supernatural with the psychological. As Beth experiences terrifying visions and hears Owen’s voice, the audience is left to question the validity of her perceptions. Is she losing her mind, or is there something genuinely sinister at play? This ambiguity is a hallmark of effective horror, allowing viewers to engage in their interpretations of the events unfolding onscreen. Bruckner plays with audience expectations, leading them down dark corridors of thought where the horror is not just external but rooted in personal trauma.
The screenplay, penned by Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski, is commendable for its exploration of grief and the lingering questions surrounding marriage. Owen’s past actions unfold like layers of a psychological onion—each revelation complicates Beth’s understanding of the man she thought she knew, and by extension, herself. This exploration is both haunting and relatable, tapping into the universal fears of abandonment, betrayal, and the fragility of love.
However, there are moments in "The Night House" where the pacing feels somewhat uneven. At times, the slow-burning tension is masterfully executed; at others, it drags slightly, making the viewer acutely aware of the run time. The climax could also be perceived as overly ambitious, attempting to tie together multiple threads in a way that may come across as convoluted. Yet, despite these minor hiccups, the film ultimately delivers a satisfyingly eerie resolution that lingers in the mind.
The sound design in "The Night House" deserves particular mention. The score, composed by Ben Lovett, complements the visual storytelling beautifully, utilising discordant notes and silence to enhance the unsettling atmosphere. Each creak of the floorboards and distant echo reinforces the film’s themes of isolation and intrusion, immersing viewers in Beth’s haunted experience. The auditory experience of the film amplifies its emotional and psychological weight, making the moments of horror that much more pronounced.
"The Night House" is imbued with philosophical musings about death and memory, encouraging viewers to reflect on the spectres of the past that haunt us all. The film is punctuated with heart-wrenching revelations that force Beth—and the audience—to confront the darker aspects of love and the memories we carry. In many ways, it comments on the act of remembering itself: how the past can shape our identities and how our perceptions can be clouded by emotions like grief and regret.
As the film unfolds, Beth’s journey encapsulates the struggle between accepting loss and the desire to cling to what remains. The unreliability of memory is poignantly portrayed, asking us to consider how our experiences influence our perceptions of truth and reality. This thematic richness is what elevates "The Night House" beyond a standard horror film, inviting deeper contemplation long after the film concludes.
Conclusion
In conclusion, "The Night House" is a thought-provoking and unnervingly atmospheric horror film that offers more than mere frights; it delivers a profound exploration of grief, memory, and the darkness that can linger in the human psyche. Rebecca Hall’s compelling performance anchors the film, guiding the audience through a tapestry of emotional and psychological terror. Despite some pacing issues, the film successfully crafts a haunting narrative that lingers, encouraging viewers to reflect on the intricacies of love, loss, and the secrets that shape our lives.
Score: 8.5/10
