There have been many attempts at horror that have failed, so I try not to go into anything with specific expectations. One particular trope is the haunted house. How does this concept translate into a serialization? The Haunting of Hill House, adapted from the novel by Shirley Jackson, does just this, but compiles drama with complex characters, underlined by the innate terror of a malevolent house.
It is an ambitious feat being able to sustain suspense over ten episodes. Mike Flanagan manages this with a methodical approach, using every option in the horror handbook and exceeding beyond expectations.
“Every House Has A Heart.”
Hill House focuses on the Crain family, mixing memories of when the five siblings were children “then” and as adults “now.” After Hugh (Henry Thomas) and Olivia (Carla Gugino) purchase a mansion to renovate and eventually sell, they move in with their five children.
It’s obvious that the five siblings have become somewhat estranged over the years, especially with their father, who had pulled them out of the house at 3AM without their mother. This tragedy, which is slowly revealed, leaves a festering wound in their lives. Was their mother mentally ill? Was there some sort of ghoulish presence acting against her? They share differing opinions on the matter, but all blame their father.
Hill House puts trauma and its effects under a magnifying lens. There’s a tether to all five that has strengthened and simultaneously broken them because of what happened. Let’s talk about these characters for a moment, as each of the Crain family is their own unique person. They react to situations in an organic way according to their personality.
It’s not just a delve into these character’s lives, it’s a saga. Steve (Michiel Huisman) is a writer, capitalizing on their experiences by penning books about haunted houses (including theirs). However, his beliefs lie in what’s tangible, and he feels it’s just about learning to understand what you don’t know; a natural phenomenon.
Shirley (Elizabeth Reaser) owns a funeral home with her husband Kevin (Anthony Ruivivar) and their two children. She’s especially bitter with Steve. Their sister Theo (Kate Siegel) lives in her guest home. Theo is intimately troubled, trying to avoid feeling because, through her touch, she feels too much.
Luke (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) is a recovering heroin addict and his twin, Eleanor ‘Nell’ (Victoria Pedretti), suffers astutely from grief. These two have a more up-front relationship with the house and its inhabitants, often being overlooked for what they see.
Their child counterparts are wonderfully cast: Lulu Wilson, Mckenna Grace, Paxton Singleton, Julian Hilliard, and Violet McGraw. Some stand out more than others, though they are all effective in their particular roles.
The father Hugh is played by two different actors (curious since they’re not that far apart in age), with the younger being Henry Thomas and the older Timothy Hutton. At first, I wasn’t sure about this decision, but it just gives us twice the acting power in a crucial role. Hugh’s ultimate decisions and reasoning isn’t revealed until the end, but he’s an important anchor within the narrative.
“We’re All Stories In The End.”
There’s a lot of heartbreak amid the dark corridors, and the enigma that is the impenetrable “red room”. So much of the mystery of Hill House is about the Crain family, as it doesn’t concentrate on the history of the home. A brave, but inevitably great decision.
These are flawed people dealing with their trauma in a multitude of ways. The decision to change the story from the book into a family bodes well in this context, giving the ties an emotional edge. And it is sharp.
The season is delivered in expertly crafted episodes surrounding each of the Crain family. There is a synergy here that’s quite effective. Each episode shows the past as children inside the house, and the present. Each episode has its own identity but each feel like necessary links in a very powerful chain.
With each new development the range of grief is discovered, as well as their interpretations of what happened and of the house itself. This family is divided, set on separate paths, but ultimately joined by the unrelenting hunger of their haunted home.
In episode six, penned by Flanagan himself, we finally have the remaining members reunited and it is an explosive and compelling hour of television that is expertly conceived. There is an assortment of writers over the course of the ten-episode arc, including Meredith Averill and Jeff Howard, but there is only one director. Mike Flanagan constructs something that, in my opinion, is near genius.
While everybody is completely enthralling, Carla Gugino, in particular, stands out as the troubled matriarch. Her own uncertainty makes the war she’s waging that much more evocative. In episode 9, her acting talent is really highlighted, creating a gut-wrenching, emotional ride. Luke, Oliver Jackson-Cohen, as one-half of the twins, is also riveting as the loss settles into his shoulders and threatens to derail him. None of the Crain’s make it out unscathed.
“It’s Just A Carcass In The Woods.”
There is so much to admire about The Haunting of Hill House that I would recommend a second watch. When you devour it the first time through there is an anticipation, but on another viewing, you can really appreciate it all.
That being said, keep an open eye, and beware: while this has jump-scares there are also discomforting moments and a frequent heart-rending punch. Each reveal is thrilling and earned, including the finale for our characters, who deserve some eventual peace.
The Haunting of Hill House utilizes intimate long shots, using the camera to explore scenes with a deft eye. The cinematography is incredibly effective throughout the course of the show, keeping us intimately involved. The stunning. entrancing work in “Two Storms” is ambitious and truly incredible to watch as it plays out like one long take in both the past and present.
Everything is a successfully timed, distinctive approach; a rarity among TV. There’s an unease that digs in and doesn’t give up. The Haunting of Hill House‘s power doesn’t leave when these characters do, it follows them around, a second footstep, through their life.
“In the night, in the dark.” This show can also be eerie, as Mrs. Dudley (Annabeth Gish) remarks without an iota of sarcasm. She and Mr. Dudley (Robert Longstreet) are caretakers, but they don’t stay on the grounds after night. This is a disturbing house, and it’ll eat you up. The production value is exquisite, with a house that leers and looms and is interchangeable. Things don’t always look the same, but the bones are there.
There is a slow burn with the first few episodes, and I have heard some question the “scariness” of the show. Let it envelop you, and the delicate melancholy score guide you through the indelible ten episodes. There’s a tension built throughout that may not be the normal horror you’re expecting, but it’s the kind we need.
There are some areas that I could discuss that could be construed as negatives (what’s up with Henry’s weird blue contacts?) but for the most part they’re forgivable. The ending, for one, might seem to be catering to viewers too much, to give us catharsis, but I like it because it provides one for the characters.
The Haunting of Hill House masterfully captures family dynamics in the rawest setting possible. Each of the threads carefully woven are given a firm base due to the excellent ensemble cast. A continual mix of timelines allows a palette that sizzles with unsettling imagery, and a palpable dread. There are so many ghosts in Hill House, but in a lot of ways, the ones that live in the minds and hearts of our characters, are the most impactful.
There’s also a lot in the details. If you’re looking (which I suggest you do) you’ll see spirits all over, blending in with the structure of the house. Netflix has already said they will be making a season two, what story will fill the halls next time?
Conclusion: The Haunting Of Hill House
The Haunting of Hill House is full of arresting images, and startling moments of pure drama; this is a show that doesn’t skimp on the heft and it presses its viewers with an inherent need to invest. Mike Flanagan puts together a project that pulses with an eerie but naturalistic vibe, further concurring that horror can not only be great, but it can be fantastic.
What did you think? Were you as enamored as I was? Let us know in the comments below!
The Haunting Of Hill House is currently streaming on Netflix.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=G9OzG53VwIk
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema - get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.