What I like about Mike Flanagan is the delicate line he balances.
Something that’s irritated me as a horror fanatic in the past few years has been the trend of horror fans calling certain movies or shows “elevated” horror. Movies that fall under this category of “elevated” horror are Ari Aster’s films Hereditary and Midsommar, and arguably the movie that started this trend is Robert Eggers’ The VVitch. That being said, these movies and their directors/writers aren’t necessarily at fault for their reputation. Rather, the consumers of said movies spread this toxic view. This snobbish way to view film is actively belittling to horror that’s seen as “lesser,” horror that’s scoffed at for its mindless trashiness, simply for not being overly-stylized and for having a hamfisted metaphor for trauma and loss. Arguably, horror is about trauma. This is an obvious observation. It started out as such, back from the beginning of film and when B-movies of the 50s and 60s brought back the desire in audiences to be afraid. Movies that strongly inspire non-elevated horror that are typically dismissed as sleazy or lazy. What I have always found in the genre, which I respect, is an unflinching look at the human experience, no matter how ridiculous or “corny”. This goes to say that less respected movies like The Strangers: Prey at Night and Rob Zombie’s Halloween II have equally moving, if not moreso, depictions and metaphors for trauma and other issues along with simply being great films in their own right. Although movies like these – which are unashamed of the shameful reputation – may be in-your-face in nature, their depiction of pain and suffering is much more subtle than the titles that earn the nickname of “elevated”.
With the 2018 first season of The Haunting of Hill House, Flanagan’s tightrope balancing act is performed interestingly. Loosely based off of the classic horror novel of the same name, the story follows the Crain family, switching between their short time at Hill House in the early 1990s and the current day. Hill House, a haunted mansion in the woods, was being renovated for sale by the Crain parents. After the loss of their mother in Hill House, the children grow to adults and navigate their dysfunctional grudges and tension as well as their personal trauma.
This show is certainly slow, which is something that has seemingly scared away other viewers. Slowness is, for some reason, typically seen as a signature of elevated horror. It’s also definitely a hard watch – not much fun is to be had here, and the joylessness of elevated horror is strangely a celebrated aspect of it. But hear me out – this show is unique compared to any other supposed elevated horror. While it is definitely largely an expanded metaphor for trauma, supernatural and ghostly aspects of the story are still vital to how it functions and exists. It’s proud of its horror show label and allows it to be grotesque, over-the-top, and utilize jump scares, a tried-and-true method typically looked down upon by many horror fans. It also has unique style and distinctive design, along with a hefty metaphor, which to some may beg for it to be labeled as elevated. However, the big difference between Hill House and elevated horror is its clear respect and love for horror as a genre. Though it is meant to praise the movies it’s describing, the use of the word inherently insinuates that horror is an unnecessary or inferior genre. “This isn’t a horror, it’s a horror-drama.” “This isn’t a horror, the real horror is trauma, abuse, and family dynamics.” “Elevated” suggests there was a platform to ascend from, to be more than. Hill House proposes a question: why not both? It both embraces its ghosts and supernatural occurrences are very real as well as how tightly knit they are to the characters’ traits, obsessions, and experiences.
Now that that’s out of the way, Hill House has so many qualities that make it a great show in general. The audience and characters never feel safe from scares. Unlike many pieces of horror media which isolate the haunting or monsters to one location, the ghosts go anywhere at anytime here. That doesn’t go to say that the titular house isn’t the root of the fear and terror. So many of its scares are daytime horror. This means that frightening and upsetting scenes tend to happen during daylight rather than reserving fear for night. Though it definitely has its share of nighttime madness, this show is built for suspense.
Its horrific moments, when revealed, are also unblinking. Sometimes, horror is seen for just one moment or it is a cheap scare, its effectiveness is lost with dwelling. However, the horror the audience has to witness is burned into our minds. Flanagan also decides which horror is worth lingering on and knows exactly how to pace himself. The audience is always waiting to wonder if the next thing onscreen is real or imagined, a ghost or not. Did a bug just crawl out of that dead kitten’s mouth or is that just the fear and absolutism of death in the mind of a desperate girl? It made me feel that I was never safe – there could be a ghost waiting around every corner. It also seemed to feed off of specific, predictable, yet still understandable childhood fears, particularly because the show seemed to represent the things that quite literally haunt people that rooted in their youth. The scariest moments were an all-consuming type of horror reminiscent of Lynch’s Mulholland Drive – the fear is felt over your entire body and you’re filled with a strange sadness and hopelessness.
All in all, not much actually happens in this show. The plot is fleshed out through things that have already happened, and I found that was a fun and rewarding way to consume a story. It encourages audiences to pay close attention in order to catch certain details that could be missed in an instance that would later help explain happenings.
The acting might be the most notable standout quality of the show. It has a large cast but manages to make each and every character fleshed-out and relatable. While all of the cast members give unforgettable performances, newcomer Victoria Pedretti gives a particularly moving performance as Nell, the youngest of the Crain siblings and perhaps the most tortured. She is a ball of anxiety and fear, slowly turning from a curious and empathetic child into a kind woman brought to insanity with stress and pain. Henry Thomas, who played Elliot in E.T., portrays the father of the Crains with a real type of tenderness and wonder.
The visual style, editing, and cinematography is also breathtaking. Aside from the thorough, stimulating, and fitting sets, makeup, and costumes, it is also shot in an insidious way that makes your skin crawl with suspense. For example, episode 6 only consisted of 5 long takes in an hour-long episode, recalling horror directing legend Stanley Kubrick, which makes sense with Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep, a sequel to Kubrick’s The Shining that was just released in theaters.
The format of the episodes also keeps things interesting. Due to its nature as a show first on streaming and now on Blu-ray, able to be binged both ways, it must adapt to that format while still existing as a television series. This means that, in order to keep things from getting exhausting or blending together, it figures out clever ways of breaking up episodes. The way the editors and Flanagan combatted this is dividing up roughly the first half of the season to have each episode dedicated to certain characters, though by the last few they begin to blend together for the culmination. Flanagan recently revealed that the show will have a next season but it will have nothing to do with the Crains or Hill House, and will be the next season in a “The Haunting of…” anthology. While some audiences were disappointed, this relieved me as a fan of the show. I felt that the Crains had a storyline that was finished in a place of respect and care, to bring them back would ignore that conclusion. I’m excited to see how his next innovative horror story will come out, especially because it is also loosely based off of another horror literature classic, The Turn of the Screw.
In terms of the Blu-ray, it translated the deep colors of the settings beautifully. My only complaint is that it was very dark most of the time, which is understandable given it’s a horror show and I’m the one who has no curtains in my apartment where my T.V. is. The sound was powerful and sent a chill down my spine. The special features, which include director commentary and three extended episodes, are perfect for fans who wish to learn more about the series and enjoy what they didn’t get to see on Netflix when it was first released.
So, this show scared the hell out of me. I don’t usually run from the bathroom to my bed in the dark, then pull the covers up over my head, but this sure made me do it.
