Based on a novel by James Hardiman, this 1982 haunted house tale got lost in the shuffle with other more popular titles like POLTERGIEST and THE ENTITY, and it’s easy to see why. But through the miracle of Cable TV -- the early 80s dumping grounds for stuff nobody paid to see theatrically -- THE HOUSE WHERE EVIL DWELLS got some decent exposure for late-night gazers with nothing better to do. Director Kevin Connor is a Britisher who previously helmed good films such as FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE and THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT, and before this had just done the overrated MOTEL HELL, but this is definitely one of his lesser efforts.
In
1840 Japan, a Samurai comes home to witness his wife having an affair with another
man. He pulls out his mighty sword, slices and dices them, and then commits
Kamikaze on himself. Flash forward to the early 80s, and photojournalist Ted
Fletcher (Edward Albert) with wife Laura (Susan George) and their daughter Amy
(Amy Barrett) travel to Japan where he is to do some magazine work. Their American
diplomat friend Alex Curtis (Doug McClure) greets them at the airport, telling
them he found an old-style Japanese house for them to rent cheap on account
that it’s believed to be haunted. They easily take it, but all hell breaks
lose as the ghostly trio of the 19th century sex triangle still haunts the joint.
Not only do they taunt the new tenants by breaking objects and messing with
the kitchen sink, but they embody them from time to time, causing Laura to initiate
an affair with Alex, which will eventually recreate the bloody tragedy.
Starting
off with an impressive flashback sequence that has an ancient warrior hacking
off his enemy’s arm, and then graphically decapitating him, THE HOUSE
WHERE EVIL DWELLS then just unwraps as routine fluff that fills the running
time with cliches until the predictable climax. The film can only be enjoyed
on a camp level, as the theatrical make-up on the three spirits is pretty poor,
and the special effects of them entering their modern counterparts' bodies is
bound to be considered dated by modern CGI-raised audiences. Most of the scare
tactics bring more laughs than fright, such as little Amy Barret screaming at
an unfriendly face in her bowl of soup. Only a scene with some large crabs crawling
through a bedroom is able to invoke some chills. The film has an extreme lack
of focus, as the modern inhabitants sometimes are able to see the ghosts, while
most of the time they can’t. And why would the ghostly wife and her lover
team up with the murdering husband to torment this poor couple in the first
place?
Eddie
Albert and Doug McClure (in his fifth and final film for director Connor) are
not bad here, but they sometimes have a kind of “what am I doing in this
picture” expression on their faces. Amy Barrett is one of the worst child
actresses in one of the worst child performances ever. Henry Mitowa plays a
monk who attempts a fruitless exorcism, and whenever he’s speaking his
lines, you can see his eyes drifting towards the cue cards. British actress
Susan George is great as usual, doing another convincing American accent (remember
DIRTY MARY CRAZY LARRY?) and adding nice amounts of pathos and emotion to her
part, so much so that you wish she was in a better movie. Celebrity Skin fans
will be happy to know that she does ample doses of nudity in her steamy love
scene with Albert, as well as a shorter one with McClure. Seeing the sexy actress
in the buff is probably enough to warrant a $15 retail price on this otherwise
humdrum exercise in bad filmmaking.
MGM/Sony
presents THE HOUSE WHERE EVIL DWELLS with an anamorphic 1.85:1 widescreen transfer
on one side, and a full frame open matte transfer on the other. The film looks
extremely good and certainly better than previous VHS version released some
years ago. The source material is in very good shape, with the colors looking
rich and vibrant enough, and black levels being deep. Nighttime scenes are never
too dark, and fleshtones look natural. A solid mono English audio track is consistent
with the nice transfer, and there’s optional French and Spanish audio
tracks in case you have the urge to watch Doug McClure in another language.
English, French and Spanish subtitles are also included, and this barebones
release at least has the original theatrical trailer. (George
R. Reis)