I
Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House
Directed
by: Oz
Perkins.
Written
by: Oz
Perkins.
Starring:
Ruth
Wilson (Lily), Paula Prentiss (Iris Blum), Lucy Boynton (Polly), Bob Balaban
(Mr. Waxcap), Brad Milne (Groom), Erin Boyes (Young Iris).
I admire the ambition of Oz
Perkins I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, as well as the
atmosphere that Perkins is able to create, and sustain, for the entire 90
minute runtimes of the film. Yet, I don’t actually much like the film – it
feels more like an experiment than a film – or perhaps a short film that was
needlessly made into a feature without actually expanding the story. It is a
horror film – a haunted house film to be specific, and that may have something
to do with (haunted house movies usually are not my thing – they don’t scare me
like they do some others). Yet, despite all of this, I would jump at the chance
to see Perkins’ first film – The Blackcoat’s Daughter aka February (which hasn’t
actually been released next) or anything else Perkins makes in the future. Why?
Because the atmosphere and filmmaking on display in the film are wonderful – it’s
just that it serving a pointless, dull, slow-moving story.
The film opens on the face of
Lily (Ruth Wilson), who informs us in voiceover that she is, in fact, the
pretty thing that lives in the house – that she is a hospice nurse, is 28 years
old and “will never be 29 years old”. We see her get a job for Iris Blum (Paula
Prentiss), a near silent older woman, once a famous author, not just waiting
for death. We get two scenes of exposition – one as Lily is on the phone with a
friend, where we learn some of her backstory and one as Lily sits down with Mr.
Waxcap (Bob Balaban), Iris’ lawyer, more concerned about maintaining the estate
than the house, who tells us about Iris’ career as a writing – including the
famous novel The Lady in the Walls – which has a main character named Polly,
which is what Iris insists on calling Lily. Even with that, and the strange
goings on in the house (mostly involving mold), Lily only slowly reads the thin
novel – so that Perkins can reveal scenes from the novel, that seem to take
place in the same house, at appropriate times.
Perkins knows the clichés of
the haunted house movie, and he is not afraid to use them at times – although,
mostly, he avoids them. He doesn’t really like big “BOO” moments of any kind, preferring
to slowly unsettle you in the audience with his slow reveals, the calm
voiceovers, and creepy use of music and sound. The film moves slow – too slow
really – and although Perkins command over tone and atmosphere is absolute, his
inability to do much with the story grows frustrating. The film is like a 30
minute short, stretched into a 90 minute feature.
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