Hamilton Herald Masthead

Editorial


Front Page - Friday, April 13, 2012

The Critic's Corner




In 1948, Alfred Hitchcock released a movie he shot to mimic a single take. Called “Rope,” it tells the story of two men who murder a colleague before a dinner party to demonstrate their intellectual superiority. Each shot lasts about ten minutes, and then Hitchcock tracks into an object, such as the back of a man’s jacket. This allowed his cameraman to load more film.

The set was designed to allow the prop men to move the walls of the apartment in which the movie was set so Hitchcock could take the camera wherever he wanted it to go. Even cooler, Hitchcock used a giant cyclorama of the New York City skyline to show the sun setting, lights blinking and chimneys smoking outside the windows of the apartment.

“Rope” was an unprecedented technical feat, and remains impressive to this day, especially considering how unwieldy the equipment was. “Rope” was more than an exercise in style, though; Hitchcock also told a tightly written, suspenseful story that explored thought-provoking ideas.

Now comes “Silent House,” which also takes place at a single location, and which mimics a single take. The movie begins by following a young woman from the edge of a lake to the broken down Victorian house in which she grew up, and which her father is selling. Directors Chris Kentis and Laura Lau hold this shot until they cut to black 98 minutes later.

Like Hitchcock, they stopped at certain points while shooting and then edited the footage to make “Silent House” look like one continuous take. Although some of the cuts are less than seamless, the long takes are impressive, if not as much of a technical achievement as “Rope” since you can now carry everything you need to make a movie on one shoulder. Still, it’s clear a lot of work went into choreographing where the actors would be and where the camera would shoot.

Unfortunately, “Silent House” does not tell a compelling story, so it’s merely about how the directors shot it, not what they shot.

The young woman is Sarah. As she and her father are packing their things, he leaves her to work in another part of the house. A few minutes later, she hears him fall down a set of stairs, and then silence. When she investigates, she sees that someone struck him on the head.

Sarah runs downstairs to escape, but the entire house is boarded up and its doors are locked. When she returns to her father’s unconscious body to get the key to the front door, he’s gone. Terrified, she runs to the basement, where she finds evidence of someone living in the house. She also sees a human figure searching for her.

From there, the story veers off in a direction I didn’t anticipate. Unfortunately, the twist isn’t nearly as compelling as Kentis and Lau seem to think it is. In fact, if they had shot “Silent House” in a classic manner, it would have been a run of the mill psychological horror film.

It pains me to harp on “Silent House,” as it’s clear Kentis and Lau were trying to do something unique. They shot most of the movie in tight close up to Elizabeth Olsen, who plays Sarah. This boxes in the viewer with her and establishes a tight connection to what she’s experiencing. Even better, the house is dark due to a lack of electricity and all of their belongings are piled haphazardly because of the move, which heightens the feeling of being trapped in a dangerous space. It feels like the perpetrator could pop out at any moment.

I also admire the performance of Olsen, the sister of the Olsen twins who acted on “Full House.” The long takes require her to express a broad range of emotions without pausing for a break, and her intensity kept me watching, even after the story had become boring.

“Silent House” is bowing out of theaters as I write this, but will soon be available on DVD and via On Demand. If you’re a curious cinebuff, or if you can’t watch enough hackneyed horror, it’s worth a rental.

Rated R for disturbing violent content and terror. Two stars out of four.

Email David Laprad at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.