House On Haunted Hill (1959)
Starring: Vincent Price, Agnes Moorehead, Richard Long, Carol Ohmart
Director: William Castle
Synopsis: Campy family spookfest
Reviewed by: Omar Khan

 

William Castle was many things.

A master showman.

A born huckster.

A shameless promoter.

What he was never particularly interested in was genuine terror.

His films were designed less to frighten audiences than to entertain them, and House on Haunted Hill remains one of the finest examples of his delightfully camp approach to horror.

Calling it a "fright fest" is perhaps stretching the definition somewhat.

Calling it enormous fun is another matter entirely.

Watching House on Haunted Hill today is rather like climbing aboard an old ghost train at one of those gloriously shabby seaside fairgrounds. The machinery creaks alarmingly, the scenery wobbles, the special effects have seen better days and every few moments something leaps out in the hope of making you jump.

You probably won't.

But you'll almost certainly have a wonderful time anyway.

Castle wastes little time establishing his deliciously improbable premise.

An eccentric millionaire, Frederick Loren (Vincent Price), invites five complete strangers to spend the night in the notorious House on Haunted Hill. Survive until morning and each guest will walk away ten thousand dollars richer—a substantial fortune in 1959.

Naturally, there is a catch.

The house is reputedly haunted.

Or is it?

Loren calmly informs his guests that the evening's entertainment has been arranged purely for the amusement of his wife, with whom he appears to share one of the least affectionate marriages in horror cinema. Their mutual dislike is so palpable that one almost begins wondering whether the ghosts should be worried about the living rather than the other way around.

From that point onwards, Castle gleefully unleashes one bizarre incident after another.

Doors mysteriously lock.

Sinister noises echo through the corridors.

Ghastly apparitions appear without warning.

Rats meet an unpleasant end in vats of acid.

Skeletons suddenly materialise for no particularly convincing reason beyond the fact that William Castle clearly thought skeletons were marvellous fun.

And, to be fair...

they are.

Among the film's most memorable creations is the wonderfully eccentric housekeeping couple. The housekeeper, in particular, seems almost to glide through the mansion rather than walk, materialising silently from the shadows before disappearing just as mysteriously into the background. Her strange, ethereal presence provides some of the film's most genuinely eerie moments, even if they never become particularly frightening.

Castle's greatest stroke of genius, however, was casting Vincent Price.

Few actors have ever possessed Price's extraordinary ability to remain utterly serious while delivering dialogue that borders on the gloriously absurd. His performance strikes precisely the right balance between elegance, menace and tongue-in-cheek theatricality. Beneath his impeccably controlled exterior one constantly suspects that he is secretly enjoying the ridiculousness of the whole affair every bit as much as the audience.

Nobody played sophisticated melodrama quite like Vincent Price.

The supporting cast contributes gamely to the proceedings, including Richard Long—later beloved as Professor Everett in television's Nanny and the Professor—whose effortless charm and polished good looks make it easy to understand how he later found himself cast as the quintessential television gentleman.

Viewed through modern eyes, House on Haunted Hill is unlikely to unsettle anyone much beyond primary-school age. Today's audiences, raised on increasingly elaborate horror films and sophisticated visual effects, will probably find Castle's ghosts about as alarming as an episode of Scooby-Doo.

That is hardly a criticism.

Scaring audiences was never really the point.

Castle wanted people to laugh, gasp, shriek a little and leave the cinema with broad smiles on their faces.

Mission accomplished.

The film possesses a wonderful innocence that many modern horror productions have long since lost. There is no graphic violence, no relentless brutality and no desperate need to shock. Instead, it relies upon atmosphere, theatricality and old-fashioned showmanship to carry the audience along.

Even the famous musical "ghost theme" contributes to the charm, sounding more playfully spooky than genuinely sinister. It perfectly complements a film that has always been more haunted house attraction than nightmare.

House on Haunted Hill is not remotely frightening.

It is not intended to be.

It is a lovingly constructed carnival ride, guided by one of horror cinema's greatest entertainers and fronted by the incomparable Vincent Price at the height of his wonderfully mischievous powers.

Watch it expecting genuine terror and you may be disappointed.

Watch it as a gloriously camp slice of vintage horror entertainment...

and you'll have an absolute ball.