10/28: The Haunting of Hill House (A Horror Manifesto)

Alright, so full disclosure, I didn't watch any horror movies this weekend. But don't think I let my weekend go horror-free. Something else took all of my attention this weekend: bingeing the rest of The Haunting of Hill House. I reviewed the first three episodes a few days ago, but this weekend I couldn't take my eyes off this horror masterpiece. This review should be less of a critique of American Horror Story (ugh) and focus solely on Hill House now that I have the entire series under my belt. I was also so struck by Hill House that this will more than just a review; it truly stands as a definition of why I love horror as a whole. This review will be surprisingly serious coming from me; I know, what will I do without my snark? Here goes:

10/28

People sometimes ask me why I love horror so much, namely when I tell them that I subject myself to a horror movie a day every October. It's always a bit hard to explain. I've always, ever since I was but a wee lad, liked the darker things. Darth Vader was always infinitely cooler than Luke Skywalker (#teamempire), Heavy Metal was always better than whatever drek the mainstream was kicking out, and Disney villains were usually way more fascinating than their hero counterparts. I have always had a penchant for darker side of things, which brings us around to horror itself. Horror is the darker side of filmmaking, movies that study the elements in ourselves that we tell ourselves don't exist or that we wish didn't. Horror is the dark side of going to the movies. I guess that's been the best explanation I've been able to muster for my love for horror. Now, though, I have a new answer: 

Want to know why I love horror so much? Go watch The Haunting of Hill House.

Horror to me has always been about what's on the edges: of our minds, our society, culture, folklore, and even comfort levels. It's about pushing that boundary, about exploring themes and ideas around fear, loss, grief, and discomfort. It allows to sift through all that in a way that still manages to be (very) entertaining. Now, of course, not all horror is created equal. My own personal horror taste leans towards the ghost tales and haunted houses of the world over the slashers or torture porns or gorefests. Haunting tales speak louder to me because they can tackle those themes so beautifully. Ghosts and hauntings are often actually the backdrop of story, creating a space where the things we struggle with as human beings can be picked apart and provided a deeper understanding. It is surely for this reason that Hill House has spoken to me so loudly.

After finishing the series yesterday afternoon, I spent the evening mulling it over. I laid in bed, my wife asleep next to me and my dogs snoring, watching the soft shadow shapes on the walls of my bedroom. I took the sounds in and watched the shapes cast by the light outside my window gently shift across the walls. I felt at once deeply unsettled by that shadowy shifting and lost in deep thoughts about what it means to be human, all the baggage that comes with it. It wasn't at all the fear of, say, a jump scare in the dark, but rather a pondering, at times unsettling, that the dimly lit nightly hours can bring. Hill House created in me these wonderings. For something that on the surface is no more than ten episodes about a family put to celluloid, that is a remarkable achievement. 

I don't plan on divulging much of the plot here (go read my other Hill House review for some of that), because, honestly, you just need to go watch it. Being a horror fan doesn't matter here (although it certainly helps), because Hill House is so much more. It's about so much, from how family drifts apart to how we process loss and the subsequent grief, to how we wish to protect children from the horrors of the world to the point of even sheltering them from what is good to how we build up walls to hold others out and only end up shutting ourselves in. THIS is why I love haunting stories: sure, this show is about ghosts, but they are ultimately just the creepy backdrop to something deeper. Hell, this is why I love horror. We, as humans, need something like The Haunting of Hill House to process what is deep within us. Maybe for you it's not horror, but for me there's a brilliance behind it: using the idea of terror to process and think deeply about what we struggle with. 

I will say it here and now: Hill House is a masterpiece on numerous levels. It's a masterpiece of not only horror but also of episodic television and even grief counseling. This show taps into something deeper within us like no other TV show I've ever seen and few horror films have at all. 2018 has been a beautiful, dark blessing for horror fans. Between the equally masterful Hereditary and The Haunting of Hill House we have been more than spoiled. But it's not just horror here; Hill House has something for any viewer because we are all human. We need to hear what it has to say, to lie awake at night as I did and process something deeper within us. That's what horror has the opportunity to do and something Hill House gives the utmost weight and importance.

Mike Flanagan has created something that will stick with me for a long time. He's created a definition for why I love horror, in all it's potential for depth and analysis and humanity. 

Why do I love horror enough to watch it every day of every October? 

Go watch The Haunting of Hill House.

10/10

(that might be the most emphatically I've ever typed that rating)