Excess FX mean this haunted house lacks spirit.
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when a perfectly chilling psychological ghost story gets body-snatched by a bunch of CGI effects and a complete misunderstanding of subtlety, look no further than The Haunting (1999). This remake of the 1963 classic proves that even when you have a stellar cast and a legendary source material, a movie can still fall apart faster than an Ikea bookshelf put together by Mr Bean.
The film starts with Eleanor “Nell” Vance (Lili Taylor), a troubled woman who agrees to participate in a sleep study at the ominous Hill House. Now, if you’ve seen the original or read Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House, you might expect a slow-burning, character-driven exploration of fear. Don’t worry—this film has other plans. The subtle tension of the original is chucked right out the window to make room for CGI ghost children, killer statues, and house décor that looks like it was borrowed from a Spirit Halloween clearance sale.
Nell is joined by Theo (Catherine Zeta-Jones), whose entire character seems to be “sexy, bisexual, and vaguely interested in the paranormal,” and Luke (Owen Wilson), who alternates between cracking half-baked jokes and looking confused by whatever scene-stealing disaster is unfolding in front of him. Liam Neeson rounds out the crew as Doctor David Marrow, a man who’s either conducting a sleep study or trying to win a Darwin Award for Worst Scientist Ever. It may be the only film in Neeson’s filmography where his character lacks any of the specific set of skills that are needed.
The film kicks off with a lot of Gothic promise—an eerie mansion, strange creaks in the night, and talk of past tragedies. And then it promptly descends into a CGI nightmare. Remember when haunted house movies used to rely on creaking floorboards and shadows to evoke terror? Yeah, The Haunting skips all that and goes straight for cartoonishly large sets and digital effects that would’ve felt gauche to Jumanji. Why waste the time to let the atmosphere do its work when there are pixelated spirits to scream at the audience, right? It’s almost like the director of the bombastically kinetic Speed and the relentlessly action-orientated Twister wasn’t the right choice to helm a modern remake of a classic tale of creeping dread.
The real star of the show, though, is Hill House itself, which is as subtle as a hammer to the face. With its endless hallways, haunted ceilings, and a pipe organ that seems to have a mind of its own, the house spends more time flexing its digital muscles than scaring the audience. At one point, a fireplace becomes a literal monster, complete with a roaring mouth that would feel more at home in a Saturday morning cartoon than a supposed horror film.
Of course, The Haunting wouldn’t be complete without one of the most laughably absurd finales in horror movie history. By the time we reach the climax, we’re treated to Nell facing off against a demonic house with a backstory that’s as convoluted as it is uninteresting. Apparently, the big bad spirit of the house is holding the souls of children hostage because…reasons? Honestly, the explanation comes out of nowhere and has all the emotional resonance of a dropped sandwich.
But let’s not forget about Owen Wilson’s character, Luke, who somehow manages to have the most unintentionally hilarious death scene of the movie. (Spoiler alert, but really, does it matter?) In one of the film’s final acts of over-the-top ridiculousness, Luke’s head is dramatically removed by a flying stone ornament in the house, because apparently, Hill House also moonlights as a Final Destination villain.
At the end of the day, The Haunting (1999) is a film that looks like it spent 90% of its budget on CGI and 10% on understanding what made the original story terrifying in the first place. It’s less about psychological fear and more about making you wonder why the house seems more interested in showing off its digital prowess than actually haunting anyone. Sure, it’s occasionally entertaining in a “what were they thinking?” kind of way, but if you’re looking for real scares, you’re better off watching the wallpaper peel.
In the battle between story and spectacle, spectacle wins here—but it’s a Pyrrhic victory at best. If nothing else, The Haunting serves as a cautionary tale: sometimes, less really is more. And no amount of ghostly CGI cherubs can convince us otherwise.