When the Campbell family moves to upstate Connecticut, they soon learn that their charming Victorian home has a disturbing history: not only was the house a transformed funeral parlor where inconce...
The Haunting in Connecticut gives the state a bad name for itself. Y'know, whenever a film shoves the words "Based on a true story." immediately in your face, nine times out of ten it's going to be a load of ectoplasmic ejaculate. Did I watch the same "horror" film as everyone else? The same film that critics actually gave praise to certain aspects? Acting? Creepy atmosphere? Forgive me lord for I am about to sin. Absolute bollocks! I've never questioned my own sanity before, but this atrocity needs to remain cremated. Forever. A family unknowingly move into a former funeral home so that they live closer to their local hospital for their cancer-stricken son.
Funeral home plus new guests equals necromancy. Obviously! For the sake of praise, as I do view myself as a kind soul, Gallner gave a committed performance. That's it. I've never seen such a pointless horror film before, but this takes a big chunk out of my chocolate biscuit. Everything about the story makes no sense. The magical necromancy which involves hiding symbol-ridden corpses within the house and performing a séance so that a CGI blob comes out of a boy's throat. Why? The son has cancer, not for any thematic purpose, but to seamlessly involve another patient (who happens to be a Reverend) so that he can cleanse the house. The cancer then "disappears". Not cured, but disappeared. As if it was relating the disease to the events in the house. What. The. Heck!
Children playing hide and seek, knowing that it was a former mortuary, in the dark. They deserve to get demonically possessed. A family who react to absolutely nothing. We've got a Gillian Anderson/Meryl Streep/Kaley Cuoco/Holly Hunter lookalike (Virginia Madsen apparently...) that plays the mother, who seemingly has one emotion: unfazed. "Are you ok?" she asks her clearly wounded son about 36 times. He's frickin' scratching a wall with his bloody nails, and she reacts as if it happens everyday. Symbols etched onto his body? "Oh my, are you ok?". I can't! Then there's Avril Lavigne playing the sister who simply exists to spoon-feed us historic exposition regarding the house. "Sk8er boi"? Pffft, "I said see ya later, boy"! Side note: not actually Avril. She's still recovering from that "Hello Kitty" song (seriously, listen to it!!).
Christ, I haven't talked about the obvious jump scares and lack of horror. They're obvious...and lacking. There's nothing in this film. Absolutely nothing! It's so damn "true", that the author of the book it is based on actually ran away instead of helping. He had the right idea. I'd run away too. Drivel. Dreadful deathly drivel. What's with the eyelid collection? Is it to force innocent bodies to endure this rubbish? If so, smart idea!
