The House of the Devil (Australian Import)

I distinctly remember that the first time I heard the descriptor “slow-burn” it was in reference to Ti West’s The House of the Devil, a film that’s stuck with me and haunted me since the first time I saw it 16 years ago, back in 2009 during its limited theatrical run. Christ, has it already been 16 years? I remember my girlfriend (now wife) and I had been together for a number of months and we were both cinephile nerds. We’d heard good things about both The House of the Devil and Nicolas Winding Refn’s Bronson and, as fate would have it, our local arthouse theater was showing both as a double feature.

As much as I enjoyed both movies, The House of the Devil was a defining picture for me. I loved just everything about it. The music. The cinematography. The performances. The set design. But, most of all, I loved its authenticity. When I say authenticity, I mean specific homages to a genre of film without being a reference just for the sake of it. Ti West doesn’t go in for empty nostalgia. With The House of the Devil, all those little details help it feel real and lived in, that these characters actually occupy this world we’re visiting, which is oh, so close in proximity to the one we inhabit.

The House of the Devil takes place in 1983. While most genre flicks that emulate a specific kind of picture will go for the most popular ones, like the slasher, The House of the Devil goes for a nearly-forgotten mainstay of film with things that go bump in the night: The proto-slasher and the babysitter-in-peril genre, with such movies as Fright. Ti West combines elements from the days of Satanic Panic, the Giallo, and babysitter films, winding up with a story that takes its time in mounting dread.

Jocelin Donahue plays Samantha, a struggling college student who takes a babysitting job because she desperately needs the money. It doesn’t matter that her employers are a little weird (played by experts at creepiness, Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov). It doesn’t even matter that she’s not even watching a baby, but an older woman she’ll likely never see throughout the night. Her caretakers desperately want to see a once-in-a-lifetime celestial event, and they’re as desperate as Samantha is. Seemingly alone in a house that groans on a night with a midnight solar eclipse, the tension builds and builds into an explosive finale.

The House of the Devil is not for everyone—the most common complaint being that it’s “boring.” Look, you either dig a movie about a babysitter mostly alone in a house that may or may not be haunted, while she dances around to the Fixx, or you don’t. I loved it and I love it now. There’s a preciseness to the filmmaking that I’ve always loved, right down to the performances. When we think of “great” performances, it’s usually some tour de force that runs the gamut of human emotion. Jocelin Donahue’s performance here is much more subtle, and a lot more thankless, but no less great. She allows us to project ourselves onto her. She’s our surrogate for the night and during her brief stint, we’re the babysitter in peril, right along with her.

Vital Disc Stats: The Blu-ray
For Umbrella’s release of The House of the Devil they have conjured up both a deluxe, limited edition set complete with a reversible poster, art cards and 48-page booklet. For this review, I had the standard edition, which is still quite attractive, with a single-disc release housed in a standard case with removable slipcover. The case contains original artwork from its initial release and the slip contains alternate artwork with the titular house and a demonic red hand emerging from it. 

The House of the Devil was shot using similar methods used by the films it’s paying tribute to, shot on 16mm film. With much of the film shot using lowlight setups, the film stock has some grainy, pulsating shadows. This is a feature, not a bug. While this may be pooh-poohed as horrendously ugly to a modern audience, the whole of The House of the Devil is a vibe, so when you’re watching a long, slow zoom-out of Samantha peering out of a window, and she’s perfectly lit while chaotic white noise in the shadows dances around her, this is quite intentional and has a specific charm of VHS horror.

Beyond the cinematography and the filmmaking techniques behind the camera, The House of the Devil has an excellent use of set design and color, evoking that brown-and-yellow look from the late 70s and early 80s. The color palette is deceptively warm and inviting, hiding the horrors that lurk just underneath its surface.

Similar to its video presentation, The House of the Devil has an authentically rough-around-the-edges audio mix, both in 5.1 and 2.0 DTS-HD MA. Some of the captured dialogue sound muffled and crackly, but this is no mistake. This is specifically to evoke a time and place of the genre. When it needs to be, the audio quality is crystal clear, and even in those “muffled, crackly” moments, the dialogue is mixed above the ambient noise to favor clarity.

In the 5.1 mix, the satellite speakers see a decent amount of atmospheric noise, but is used to best effect to capture its period soundtrack selections from the Fixx to Thomas Dolby and Greg Kihn. However, the original score by Jeff Grace is no slouch, with an excellent opening theme song and credit sequence.

I originally owned The House of the Devil on DVD and it always had a robust offering of special features, all of which have made their way to Umbrella’s re-release, with a few more thrown in, including an informative video essay by Heather Drain.

• Audio Commentary - Ti West, Larry Fessenden, Peter Phox, Graham Reznick
• Audio Commentary - Ti West and Jocelin Donahue
• Video Essay (HD 25:44) - Writer and critic Heather Drain
• In The House of the Devil (SD 13:35) - Featurette
• Behind the House of the Devil (HD 4:40) - Featurette
• Deleted Scenes (HD 6:42)
• House of the Devil (SD 3:17) - 1896 Georges Méliès short film
• Trailer

The House of the Devil is a brilliant work by Ti West, a director who may have a hit-or-miss filmography, but when the man hits, he knocks it out of the park. Umbrella’s release looks and sounds great, while honoring its grainy, crackly aesthetic in the audio/visual department, with some great new features to supplement this Blu-ray. The House of the Devil from Umbrella Entertainment is Highly Recommended, but if you love this movie as much as I do, it’s really a must-own.