House at the End of the Street is blatantly aimed at the mainstream crowd and will probably scare the same thirteen year olds who were impatiently awaiting The Hunger Games film or even the next installment in the Twilight series. For the average consumer, hoping to be provided with memorable, spur-of-the-moment jolts, the film is a tired, uninspired stroll through the damsel in distress formula. I thought we were better than this.
Jennifer Lawrence, who woefully deserves better than this film, withheld by its own cardboard limitations, plays Ellissa, a teenager who has just moved into a rural home with her mother Sarah (Elisabeth Shue) on a block that holds many secrets. We are told the only reason they can afford this place is because a young girl named "Carrie-Ann" murdered her mother and father in the house and disappeared with no explanation. Now, the only one living in the home is the only survivor, the brother named Ryan (Max Thieriot), who Elissa begins to befriend much to her mother's dismay.
Need I explain more? It was just a week ago that I reviewed Victor Salva's Rosewood Lane, a rather mediocre horror film that centered around a talk radio psychiatrist who moves into the home where she grew up only to be stalked by the strange neighbor next door. The film had a real "Lifetime movie" vibe to go along with its rather dopey, simpleminded premise. It would've been a true heart-stopper to go through the events of the protagonist in that film in real life. Here, it's again, another endurance test at the audience's expense; how long can you watch something scary happen to someone you really do not care about? That's the tragedy with films like these; they never include substantial character development to make the journey with these characters more believable, sympathetically involving, or even interesting. You're stripped of any and all feeling watching these characters waltz around a premise of meager proportions.
So this Ryan kid begins to become a little oppressive in his neediness and the fact that he is taking care of what we believe is his sister, locked away in the basement cellar. It isn't long before he starts to taunt poor Elissa, in ways that lack genuine suspense and craft. Gritty atmosphere, long shots of dirty basements, and some overly obnoxious jump scenes exist in place of actual credible suspense. That's all you get. No blood, no terror, and no satisfaction. Just redundancy and lackluster PG-13-fare.
Jennifer Lawrence is immensely capable. It seems like yesterday we saw her in Winter's Bone, a quietly pleasant film about the unpleasant, and she did a wonderful job elevating the relatively underwhelming adventure film, The Hunger Games. Here, we can see how confined she is to dead-end clichés, cockamamie plot twists, and how embarrassed she is to have her named attached to uninspired genre schlock like this. Whether it's that, or the fact that the marketing campaign was reduced to "blink and you miss it" type ads, House at the End of the Street isn't the least bit satisfying or memorable.
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Max Thieriot, Elisabeth Shue, Gil Bellows, and Eva Link. Directed by: Mark Tonderai.
Jennifer Lawrence, who woefully deserves better than this film, withheld by its own cardboard limitations, plays Ellissa, a teenager who has just moved into a rural home with her mother Sarah (Elisabeth Shue) on a block that holds many secrets. We are told the only reason they can afford this place is because a young girl named "Carrie-Ann" murdered her mother and father in the house and disappeared with no explanation. Now, the only one living in the home is the only survivor, the brother named Ryan (Max Thieriot), who Elissa begins to befriend much to her mother's dismay.
Need I explain more? It was just a week ago that I reviewed Victor Salva's Rosewood Lane, a rather mediocre horror film that centered around a talk radio psychiatrist who moves into the home where she grew up only to be stalked by the strange neighbor next door. The film had a real "Lifetime movie" vibe to go along with its rather dopey, simpleminded premise. It would've been a true heart-stopper to go through the events of the protagonist in that film in real life. Here, it's again, another endurance test at the audience's expense; how long can you watch something scary happen to someone you really do not care about? That's the tragedy with films like these; they never include substantial character development to make the journey with these characters more believable, sympathetically involving, or even interesting. You're stripped of any and all feeling watching these characters waltz around a premise of meager proportions.
So this Ryan kid begins to become a little oppressive in his neediness and the fact that he is taking care of what we believe is his sister, locked away in the basement cellar. It isn't long before he starts to taunt poor Elissa, in ways that lack genuine suspense and craft. Gritty atmosphere, long shots of dirty basements, and some overly obnoxious jump scenes exist in place of actual credible suspense. That's all you get. No blood, no terror, and no satisfaction. Just redundancy and lackluster PG-13-fare.
Jennifer Lawrence is immensely capable. It seems like yesterday we saw her in Winter's Bone, a quietly pleasant film about the unpleasant, and she did a wonderful job elevating the relatively underwhelming adventure film, The Hunger Games. Here, we can see how confined she is to dead-end clichés, cockamamie plot twists, and how embarrassed she is to have her named attached to uninspired genre schlock like this. Whether it's that, or the fact that the marketing campaign was reduced to "blink and you miss it" type ads, House at the End of the Street isn't the least bit satisfying or memorable.
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Max Thieriot, Elisabeth Shue, Gil Bellows, and Eva Link. Directed by: Mark Tonderai.