The House on Haunted Hill (1959)

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Day 14 of Sobriety.

I was motivated to watch The House on Haunted Hill after hearing it being discussed on the Discover the Horror podcast (which is great, as I have mentioned previously). It’s one of the better known films by
prolific director William Castle, who also directed horror movies such as The Tingler (1959), Mr. Sardonicus (1961), and 13 Ghosts (1960)—all of which I have heard of but never seen (well, actually, I might have seen The Tingler when I was a kid). He also produced Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby.

One of the things that William Castle was famous for was his advertising and promotion gimmicks. For example, when The Tingler was screened in some theaters, certain members of the audience had vibrating seats, which gave them a jolt at appropriately shocking moments. For his first movie, Macabre (1958), he gave every audience member a $1,000 life insurance policy in case they died of fright while watching the film! For The House on Haunted Hill, some screenings featured a skeleton with glowing eyes that flew over the audience (on a wire) during the final scene.

It’s unfortunate we can’t get the benefit of those stunts when we watch the movie in our own homes. What does remain intact, however, is the excellent ensemble cast that includes Vincent Price, Carol Ohmart, who also appeared in Jack Hill’s Spider Baby (1967), and stalwart Elisha Cook Jr., who appeared in…well, pretty much everything. The plot is about a millionaire couple (Price and Ohmart) who challenge five people to stay in a haunted house for one night with the promise of a $10,000 reward for the survivors. At midnight, the doors of the house are locked, and the craziness ensues.

To be honest, The House on Haunted Hill was not entirely my bag—it is a bit creaky and campy for my tastes. It did, though, keep me entertained well enough for its short 75-minute running time, and of course I can watch Vincent Price all day in just about any movie. Despite the camp tone of the film, there were a couple of genuinely creepy moments—one, in particular actually caused me to jump.

Thus ended my 14th day as The Sober Horror Fan. Two whole weeks. Woo-hoo. Do I miss alcohol? To be honest, yes—damn right I do. But there is plenty that I don’t miss too, and, with the help of this blog, I hope that I am gradually reinforcing the idea in my brain that I can enjoy the things I love while I am sober. I can’t pretend I am finding it easy, but I am determined to stay the course. 

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