Horror is no stranger to gimmicks. From the use of 3-D to make it look like an eye is plopping out of the screen into your lap, the “tingler” gimmick from William Castle’s The Tingler (among many of his gimmicks), to the lesser-used gimmick: the one-shot. Out of all the gimmicks used to make a film stand out, the one-shot/one-take hasn’t been utilized as much as it could have been. One of the best examples is the opening shot from 2017’s One Shot of the Dead. Besides Rope, one-take horror films don’t really exist. That was until the 2010 Uruguayan film La Casa Muda. Was this film spectacular? No. Was it actually shot in one take? Definitely no. Was it fresh and interesting? Without a doubt.
With a timeframe turnaround that can only be compared to the Speak No Evil remake, La Casa Muda would be remade one year later by the team from 2005’s pulse-pounding Open Water. In typical American remake fashion, nearly everything that worked for La Casa Muda would be reworked and retooled.
Silent House follows Sarah (Elizabeth Olsen) and her father John (Adam Trese) as they arrive at their family lake house to repair it and pack it up for a future sale. Sarah’s uncle Peter (Eric Sheffer Stevens) is at the house doing some repairs. The windows are boarded up from people breaking in, and the house lacks power, so the three must exist within the home by lamplight. It soon becomes clear that things are far from what they seem when a supernatural intruder locks itself in with them. “Based on a true story,” Silent House tells its tale in a “single 86-minute shot.”
It’s important to rip the bandaid off fast. Silent House is not a good film. From the very first time Uncle Peter holds the door open for the camera, to Elizabeth Olson’s final breathy performance, Silent House becomes frustrating at the fault of its gimmick. Anyone with a modicum understanding of editing could see the awful cuts in this film. Turning the camera incredibly fast to hide a cut or filling the frame with nothing but black is amateurish and frankly embarrassing. One of the best aspects of La Casa Muda is how they hide their cuts, and even though it’s done in similar ways, it’s done better.
For some reason, Silent House decided to switch up the story a little. Rather than a story that lends ambiguity until a pivotal moment, a la La Casa Muda, Silent House decides to throw so many clues your way that you’ve guessed the ending by about 20 minutes in. The performances don’t help this film at all, either. Sophia’s (Julia Chan) entrance is supposed to be ambiguous, but still ominous. Instead, Chan hams up a performance as if she was supposed to be the film’s lead. On top of that, Elizabeth Olson seems to think her performance hinges on how heavily she can breathe for 86 minutes.
La Casa Muda is lit similarly, with a lamplight, but it’s impressive how using a different bulb can make such a difference in the lighting and image quality. In Silent House, Elizabeth uses a warm-toned orange bulb, which doesn’t mesh with how it’s filmed. Conversely, La Casa Muda uses a harsh white bulb that adds a blue tinge to the image and, most importantly, LETS YOU SEE WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING.
Silent House was the first film I bought in my first semester of college when my major was initially supposed to be film. When I was thinking of what haunted house movies to talk about for October, this was one of the first that came to mind. The pretentious film bro Brendan hated this movie. At that point, I thought the gimmick was cheap and lazy, but I was also experiencing films like Chinatown and The Godfather. Current me was sure I had misremembered this film and hoped I was just being too film-bro-y when I first watched it. All I can say is, that 2012 me was right.
Silent House (2011) is beyond frustrating and limits itself in every aspect by forcing itself into a corner. With bad acting, abysmal lighting, an unfortunate script, and a gimmick that has no payoff, Silent House should have stayed quiet forever.
