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A HAUNTED HOUSE represents the kind of surprise leading to
disappointment that crops up on the movie scene sometimes—the surprise being
that it’s not quite as awful as you might expect, and the disappointment that it
still isn’t nearly good enough to recommend.
Co-written and co-produced (with Rick Alvarez) by and
starring Marlon Wayans, A HAUNTED HOUSE is part of the wave of often
cheap-looking movie/pop-culture parodies to follow in the wake of the success
Wayans and his brothers had with SCARY MOVIE. This one has the advantage of the
cheap look not being a problem, since the found-footage horror subgenre it
takes potshots at is defined by its absence of slick production values. The
problem is that it doesn’t spend enough time actually parodying the ripe
targets represented by PARANORMAL ACTIVITY, THE DEVIL INSIDE and their ilk,
content to, for the most part, trot out lowbrow sexual, anatomical,
scatalogical and occasionally misogynist and homophobic gags to distinctly
Set in an expansive house well-chosen for its resemblance to
the home in PARANORMAL 2, the film has Wayans playing Malcolm and Essence
Atkins as his girlfriend Kisha, who’s moving in with him for the first time.
Non-supernatural trouble starts almost immediately—Kisha won’t put out, and
accidentally kills Malcolm’s dog—before strange phenomena lead them to
determine that the place is inhabited by an evil spirit. In an overplayed but
chuckle-worthy sequence clearly inspired by Eddie Murphy’s classic bit about
the difference between white people’s and black people’s response to ghosts,
Malcolm quickly decides to move out and sell the house, but finds it difficult
in today’s market.
And so, cue the assortment of would-be zany characters
called in to try to solve the problem. There’s a fey psychic (Nick Swardson),
who shares an amusing bit of patter with Malcolm early on but quickly becomes a
tired gay stereotype, and a security-camera technician/wannabe TV ghost hunter
(David Koechner), whose disbelief at an African-American couple living in such
swanky digs isn’t developed into a full-fledged comic idea. Most disappointing
of all is a priest, called in to exorcize the eventually possessed Kisha,
played by Cedric the Entertainer, who’s given far too little that’s clever to
do. None of these characters’ strenuous flailing and riffing is nearly as funny
as a long, single-take sequence from an unmoving surveillance-cam point of
view, in which Malcolm and Kisha sit in their kitchen, determinedly ignoring
the increasingly violent poltergeist activity going on around them.
When Wayans, Alvarez and director Michael Tiddes exploit the
humorous possibilities of found-footage spookery in this way, A HAUNTED HOUSE
actually delivers the goods. The oscillating-fan bit from PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 3
gets a fun spoofing, and Atkins has an amusing physical bit taking off on the
PARANORMAL flicks’ fast-forward visual motif. But about seven or eight minutes
of guffaws in an 86-minute movie ain’t a great percentage, especially as the
inspiration increasingly flags, the groans pile up and the sexist and
homophobic attitudes become more pronounced. The desperation becomes most obvious
when Koechner and Cedric start running Samuel L. Jackson lines from PULP
FICTION and SNAKES ON A PLANE (in which Koechner also co-starred, though I
wouldn’t go so far as to call this moment “meta”).
Wayans and Atkins have an engaging comic chemistry and a few
likable moments in the early going, before their space becomes invaded by the
ghost, which has sex with both Kisha (who, predictably, really loves it) and
Malcolm (who, predictably, really does not). But the fact that there’s no
visible paranormal activity until about 25 minutes in points up the problem
with A HAUNTED HOUSE. And even when tackling the occult, the filmmakers don’t
make the most of the possibilities. To quote an old Gene Siskel review, A
HAUNTED HOUSE may contain the screen’s first unfunny slapstick exorcism
scene—and they’re almost always funny.
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