Death House (2017)

Horror fans, at their best, are a very open-minded but also fiercely loyal bunch. Make one great movie and we’ll make damn sure to see your next; make a bunch of them and we’ll show up every time. Even more so, put together a cast with a string of genre favourites to their name, and watch the gorehounds turn out in their droves. And no two ways about it, Death House boasts one of the most impressive ensembles of seasoned horror icons that you’re ever likely to see. A quick scan of the cast list should be enough to make any true blue horror fan’s eyes pop out of their skulls: Barbara Crampton, Kane Hodder, Dee Wallace, Adrienne Barbeau, Bill Moseley, Tony Todd, Sid Haig, Michael Berryman, Vernon Wells, Debbie Rochon, Tiffany Shepis, Felissa Rose, Lloyd Kaufman, Camille Keaton, Brinke Stevens, Danny Trejo (for some reason uncredited) – and, perhaps the greatest jewel in an already glittering crown, the late, great Gunnar Hansen, who also wrote the story that was the basis for the screenplay.

Yes, a cast like that seems guaranteed to make any new movie a must-see for horror fans; and the fact that it’s a low budget, cinema-bypassing production shouldn’t be too big of a deal given the bulk of these performers have done their best work within that arena. However, the definition of a low-budget straight-to-video movie in the 80s, or even the 90s, is pretty far removed from what constitutes a DTV cheapie these days. I know it seems small-minded to pin the downward spiral of ultra low budget indie horror on the move to digital photography, but having seen far, far more of such films than any decent human being should in this past decade, and having been for the most part distinctly underwhelmed by what I’ve seen, I find it hard not to conclude that digital filmmaking really does lack the soul that real film brought to the process. How else do we explain just how lifeless, flat and tedious so many of these movies wind up being?

Or could it simply be that filmmakers like Death House’s director and screenwriter B Harrison Smith just aren’t up to the task? The only other film I’ve seen from Smith thus far, his 2014 debut Camp Dread, certainly didn’t inspire much confidence, and this latest film only hammers that home all the harder. If you can put together a cast like this, and still wind up with a film that leaves you checking your watch every two minutes wondering when it’s either going to get to the good stuff or simply end, then you might need to start asking questions about your work.

This film is so sloppily assembled it leaves you struggling to get any sense of what the hell is meant to be going on. After a bewildering introduction with Tony Todd spilling forth erudite threats whilst kidnapping a young woman, followed by our first meeting with Kane Hodder as a neo-Nazi cult leader, we ultimately find ourselves in the Death House, some sort of hi-tech, privately owned maximum security prison which utilises virtual reality technology in a bid to study the mind of evil, the reported intent being to eradicate evil completely with this knowledge. Barbara Crampton and Dee Wallace are the key scientists conducting this research, and they set about inducting two new agents – young hotshots Boon (Cortney Palm) and Novak (Cody Longo) – into their strange, brave new world. However, whilst these researchers are within the bowels of the Death House, an unexpected attack knocks out the software completely, leaving the killers housed within free to get out and seek their freedom, plus any bloody revenge they can get along the way, with Hodder’s wannabe führer leading the assault.

Obviously there’s a lot to be said for SF-tinged horror exploring abstract ideas; I’d certainly be curious to read Hansen’s original story (the late actor was also quite the wordsmith in his own right). However, despite the best efforts of its ever-reliable cast, Death House falls flat at every turn. Smith’s script and direction are borderline incoherent, and it doesn’t help that he has neither the vision nor the budget for the large scale, Paul WS Anderson-esque action-horror spectacle the film clearly aspires to (insert your own joke about whether anyone should actually seek to emulate PWSA). It also doesn’t help that the actual leads of the film are the less than stellar Palm and Longo, and aside from Crampton, Wallace and Hodder, the big names are for the most part little more than cameos, with only a handful of lines between them. Brinke Stevens is pretty much treated as an extra, and you’d be forgiven for missing her completely; Gunnar Hansen’s appearance is so brief and tangential it barely registers; Debbie Rochon and Tiffany Shepis I don’t remember seeing at all until their names popped up in the end credits. Adrienne Barbeau fans might also feel a little cheated, as she doesn’t actually appear at all, simply providing a computer voice – yes, just like she did in The Thing. Nor is this the only overt reference to another horror movie which Death House crams in, and I wish I could say such moments add a bit of wit to proceedings but… guess what.

It may be jam-packed with stars, and have a pretty high gore and nudity quota; but hey, so does the filmography of Uwe Boll. And – yes, I’m gonna go there – I daresay Boll would have done a better job with this material than B Harrison Smith has done here. Many old school horror fans will doubtless be lured in by the cast, but let me urge you not to take the bait on this one.

Death House is available on VOD in the US now, with a DVD release to follow on December 11th, from Cleopatra Entertainment.