REVIEW DATE: 11:8:9:9

Across the months come the words of my Mission Statement, like little dancing ghosts. Or maybe leprechauns.

"I may review new releases as they come to video but mostly I want to review the kinds of movies you always wondered about"

Well, we all know where that promise has gone. As much as I've wanted to grow up to be Stomp Tokyo, I've reviewed 4 (count 'em) four theatrical releases in the past 11 months. Those of you who have the money or time for such things may not get it, but this is a big thing for me. I can't even remember the last year I saw four theatrical movies in such a short span of time.

So, with House on Haunted Hill I'm doin' some mold breakin' and setting a new personal record. I guess next year I guess I'll have to review 5 new releases. Got to keep your interest somehow. My self-deprecating humor can only last ya so long. (God, do I suck, or what?)

It is a general rule among the critics I "hang" with (and those I don't) that recent remakes have mostly sucked the big one. I really can say one way or another (though I did like Godzilla, bet you thought you'd never hear a critic say that), so I'll just keep my damn mouth shut (and all the people of the land let out a great gasp) and say that this remake isn't all that bad.

Of course, I'm the world's last flaming liberal, so what the hell do I know?

Here's something: I know House on Haunted Hill was a 1958 movie directed by William Castle. I know that, for those of you who saw it on its first run, most consider it a fun ride. A connection to the campy horror of your childhood. I, however, am not one of those people. So, don't expect any nostalgia. That's Dr. Freex's department. From what I can remember of the original House, I found it campy and silly. Like most stuff from the 50s. So, slouching out of my cave, I drove to my local 5 dollar theater and embarked on my quest. I was gonna finally see one of these new fangled ghost movies dag blastit!

Things begin promisingly with a very surrealistic massacre at an insane asylum in 1931. A riot of the patents breaks out, led by a mad doctor, creates mucho chaos, and eventually leads to fire gutting the whole place. Ah . . . the 90s.

Fast-forward to those 90s and one shall find that the asylum has become the titular house. Despite being restored to full glory, several mysterious deaths have taken place since that spot of bother in the 30s. The yokles think the house is haunted. Who wants to bet they're right?

Apparently not Mrs. Evelyn Price (Fanke Johanson). Intrigued by the house's past, she wants to hold her birthday party there. But Mr. Stephen Price (Geoffry Rush) will not comply. An amusement park designer with money coming out his ass, Price plans to have a little fun with his much hated wife and, shredding her guest list, proceeds to write on of his own.

But then, in transit to his secretary's computer, the list rewrites itself right before our eyes. Hmm. . .

Latter, our happy cannon fodder arrives. And, happily, the requisite Weird Stuff starts to happen. But you already knew that.

What you didn't know, and what you expect of this movie, is the cusp of what makes this thing work. I went in excepting one of those damn annoying remakes that brings almost nothing new to the table. It just takes the old story, changes a few things (which may or may not have needed any chagein'), reshoots it, and sits on its ass while the money flows in. Boring!

House of the 90s, on the other hand, takes the story (originally meant for screaming, sugar charged children, to be shown on a double bill with something dumb . . . something by Roger Corman, me thinks) and retells it from the perspective of this age. As Dr. Freex noted about the 50s House, "at the end, there are no such things as ghosts, and only bad people get hurt."

Fine and dandy if you live in 1958. But what your reading is written by a dreaklock wearing, Pepsi drinking, gore loving, MTV watching, 1999 son of a bitch. I (and the rest of the country, if art really does imitate life) am very aware that sometimes the good guys can get the short end of the deal. And sometimes, just sometimes, there really are such things as ghosts.

Now that we've played the philosophical part of Why I Liked This Movie, let's movie on to something not as subjective: the actors.

First, I can not find fault with Geoffry Rush in his Vincint Price role. He even looks a bit like the Legend. Chris Kattan, as the house's current owner (who spend a grand total of one night before deciding it was haunted), Pritchett begins his cinematic life as an annoying little skeeze. Then he gets roaring drunk and actually starts to be funny. Nothing wrong with that. It's these other suckers I have problems with.

Consider the fact that you have all these characters to work with. Wouldn't it be nice if, when one of them dies, we actually know enough about them to care? Yes? No? Oh, well; must be time to kill some zombies again. As such, we get a bunch of people who's only character traits are the ones the actors manage to convey.

But our heroine, Sara (Ali Larter) is quite the dish. And she's a moderately fine actress, too. At least she doesn't scream or trip over her own high heels, as most Women of Horror do of late.

One more thing, before you run madly to the theater: In a complete about face from most horror movies, House does not go out of it's way to surprise you with gore. In our post Halloween world, this is a rare and (well, it should be) celebrated occasion. We've all seen masked killers jump out from behind doors to slice up the bimbo. It just doesn't do anything for us anymore. It's nice to see director William Malone and writer Dick Beebe try to scare us with something we actually might find frightening. Wow, what a novel idea.

Gs (out of a possible five)

HEY, IT SCARED MY FRIENDS.

MOCK O' METER

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