Ti West is starting to make a name for himself as a purveyor of retro horror. I really didn’t like The Roost, but I know it’s got a following. I get it. I mean, I like The Woods.
The House of the Devil, though, is something different. Its limited theatrical run started at roughly the same time that Parnormal Activity went wide, and it’s noteworthy that two quality indie horror flicks hit theaters in October and generated buzz. It didn’t hurt, of course, that Saw VI was as enjoyable as a persistent foot cramp.
Like yesterday’s Dead Snow, The House of the Devil isn’t a particularly resonant movie but it is a movie that is captivating in the moment you watch it. It’s a 70s throwback slasher in the vein of When A Killer Calls, and is heavily informed by 80s cult hysteria. It’s an appealing mix.
I’ve accused Ti West of being dull in the past, but really, he’s masterful at letting a movie breathe. Like a teacher’s wait time, it’s a surprisingly difficult skill to cultivate because the natural impulse is simply to hit beat after beat without luxuriating. The audience inhabits the movie a bit more, empathizes with the characters a bit more deeply, and then, at that appropriate moment, the other shoe drops and there is blood everywhere. Recommended viewing.
