It is a telling sign of how times have changed when the William Castle horror flick from eons ago, "House on Haunted Hill," passes for restraint in this jaded, anything-goes era of cheap thrills and gory violence. Sadly, this gore-laden remake of the original classic is another example of why the horror genre is dying - bloody thrills are never a substitute for character or plot.
Set in the 90's, we now have Stephen Price (Geoffrey Rush), a rich amusement park expert who knows how to draw screams from his customers, and relishes and prides himself on the visceral thrills he creates. His beautiful yet conniving wife, Evelyn (Famke Janssen), is having a birthday and Stephen plans to hold the bash at the House on Haunted Hill, formerly a mental asylum where the bloodiest, most savage murders took place this side of the Charlie Manson moon. Evelyn is not receptive to Stephen's morbid plans, nor to his inviting five unknown guests to spend the night at this house for 1 million dollars each. The catch is that they have to spend the entire night, no matter the consequences.
A splendid premise, as it was in the original, but the five-person group is hardly inviting company. There is Eddie Baker (Taye Diggs), a former athlete, Melissa Marr (Bridgette Wilson), a videographer who is fascinated by the house and its interiors, Donald Blackburn (Peter Gallagher), a doctor with a hidden agenda, and Sarah (Ali Arter), impersonating her boss with an agenda to just get the dough.
Since these five characters barely ignite our interest, we are left with Price and his wife, but their obscene shrewdness is a far cry from Vincent Price. Put simply, Rush overacts to the nth degree yet Janssen at least would have a field day if she was cast in a remake of "Double Indemnity" - she has fire, passion and a heart of coal. The dynamic Famke puts the rest of the cast to shame.
The house at least has some character but the shots of the interiors and the hallways are rendered so darkly that it may as well be Freddy Krueger's boiler room. Contrast this house with its 1958 counterpart, and at least the latter was somewhat inviting yet a sense of dread enveloped the place. Oh, my, how I miss the glory of black-and-white.
The biggest difference between the original and this remake is the introduction of the asylum and the horrors that once inhabited it. There is a curious 1931 prologue with Jeffrey Combs ("Reanimator") as some mad doctor who conducted grisly experiments, shown in docu-style, black-and-white footage. Sadly, none of this is really followed up on. Instead, we get high-pitched screams and fits, lots of canted angles, and a few gory deaths, not to mention a highly laughable special-effects monster that would barely scare Sigourney Weaver's Ripley. No wit, no scares, no purpose, and as with most recent remakes, no need.
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