A curtain separates my living room from the front area. It keeps the room warm in the winter and cool in the summer. In The House on Mansfield Street, the camera was pointed at the sleeping main character. I knew something was going to happen. I waiting for it.
Of course, I would’ve thought of that first if I hadn’t been watching a horror movie with only 3 candles as my light source.
The House on Mansfield Street was like a British Bad Ben. For 90% of the movie, you only saw one person on camera. Since watching and enjoying movies like Bad Ben and Leaving DC, I’ve warmed up to those kinds of movies. I used to think it would be boring spending 2 hours with a character talking either to himself or someone on the phone. If the suspense is good then, it could work.
This movie was quiet, kind of a slow burn. It got into the haunting pretty quickly. The horror did escalate but it was never overly dramatic. You didn’t get a climactic scene where the main protagonist or priest or spiritualist banishes the demon while it puts up a fight. There was no fight.
I don’t generally yell at movies but I was about to for this one. The man had clear evidence that something otherworldly was in his house and he didn’t do anything. In most movies, people would research ghosts and demons and ways to get rid of them. Some would call a priest.
The ending was weird. Not so bad that it ruined the movie. It just left me thinking “Why that way?” I can’t give too much away without spoiling the ending.
