House: On-This-Day Thursday
Every Thursday, an older film released on this opening weekend years ago will be reviewed. They can be classics, or simply popular films that happened to be released to the world on the same date.
For July 30th, we are going to have a look at House.
What’s the recipe for one of cinema’s most over-the-top drug trips of a horror comedy slasher film? Well, firstly, you need a studio that wants to capitalize on the success of another film. Japanese entertainment powerhouse Toho approached Nobuhiko Obayashi to write a screenplay that would ultimately become Japan’s answer to Jaws (which was then crowned the first blockbuster ever in the United States). Jaws is a thriller that takes place on water and is full of unpredictability, particularly in its last hour’s battle between a small crew on a tiny boat, and a ruthless shark. So, Nobuhiko Obayashi naturally responded by asking his young daughter Chigumi Obayashi what terrifies her the most. Chigumi came up with some strange answers, including a piano eating someone whole (and that’s just the starting point). So, father Obayashi wrote down what his child told him, and turned it into a screenplay (Chigumi is even credited for the film’s story).
Now, there’s a crazy screenplay, inspired more by the peculiar terrors of a creative daughter than the foundations of Jaws was all about. Then, Obayashi approached Toho with his findings, only for no one to want to direct this thing: a film about a house that kills schoolgirls one at a time in the most insane ways (and I do mean the house). So, two years later, Obayashi had to fulfil this vision himself. Boy, did he ever. House is easily one of the strangest comedies, and most absurd horrors you may ever find. Stuffed to the brim with god awful effects (intentional, of course), and stereotypes that only exist in this film’s universe, House is absolutely batshit. You’ll know right from the get-go that this is going to be different, when the calmer moments make soap operas look like Shakespeare.
House: the film where even goldfish are menacing, possibly.
Not one moment is normal here. Images are super imposed constantly. Effects are made to look worse than what was even capable at this time. Everything “terrible” works in favour of the film’s attempts to resemble a frantic nightmare, or an indescribable event; both are fulfilled. Enter the players: girls named more basically than Dick Tracey villains. Gorgeous — the pretty girl of the group, according to the film — feels betrayed by her father who has remarried, and wishes to depart for her aunt’s house. She brings along a few friends: Kung Fu (who fights a lot), Prof (the brains of the group), Mac (who eats a lot, I guess) and Melody (who loves music, I guess). Lastly, there is Fantasy, whose head we may as well be in the entire film, considering her imagination and constant mental drifting. So, this gang of six heads over to the house, and quickly become acquainted with Gorgeous’ aunt and her white cat Blanche (who is appropriately bleach white). With the film’s silly nature and this set up, how could you not be curious?
This getaway turns into the worst escape room scenario of all time, as things start to suddenly get strange (somehow stranger than they already were). The girls slowly get entranced or flat out murdered in inexplicable ways by the titular house. I found myself not nervous as to what would happen next, despite House’s care for actually detailing these characters. Because of the nature of House, I am almost trying to contain myself, uncertain of how hard I will laugh the next scene. How could the worst night in the lives of these teenagers be so bafflingly hilarious for the viewer? Severed heads bitting asses, paintings vomiting blood, and — gasp — death by grandfather clock consumption galore. I feel more of a connection with The Exorcist than Jaws, but in House, the unknown is a punchline (or at least an introduction to a level of absurdity that didn’t seem possible to exist outside of underground films).
What caption do I even put here?
When I’m not laughing, I’m absolutely nonplussed watching House. My first time with this cult classic was a constant lapse in mental capability to really digest what I was seeing (“Wait, did that man just turn into a pile of bananas? Why?”). Look. I won’t pretend that House is really scary (although I would hate if this film was real and I was caught in the middle of it, of course), but Obayashi’s fascination with the sensation caused by uncertainty is what renders House so damn magnetic. Even if you’re not terrified (maybe you are; I can’t speak for you), you will likely be glued to the screen. It’s like a peyote trip gone terrible wrong but you’re trying to keep your cool. Yet, House gets progressively crazier and crazier, right until the final moments. At this point, Obayashi and company really didn’t care about subtlety, and this refusal is glorious. By now, you’ve seen everything, have no idea what’s coming next, and likely will forget where you are for moments at a time.
Since House adores living in the uncanny valley, every image is incredibly memorable. Okay, so the effects are ghastly. However, you remember them in picture perfect detail, because of how outrageous they are in concept and in execution. Therefore, it’s almost impossible to actually dislike these effects. Obayashi took pride in ideas and entertainment first, and the sloppiness in how these were achieved was all a part of the plan. Who watches House and expects everything to look hyper real? If you are, you’re missing the point of the level of escapism purposefully mediocre effects of this magnitude can bring. I wouldn’t change a single instance of House’s state.
Us while watching House, coincidentally.
Now, imagine dropping this on the doorstep of Toho’s head office after their Jaws request. I would love to have been a fly on the wall of the first viewing of this psychotic psychedelic freak out. In recent years, House has become the go-to film for midnight screenings and cinephile cult circles, and it’s easy to see why. In ways, House is so out-there that it’s one of the prime examples where you need to talk this film out with someone else (or share the experience in person). Then, there’s Obayashi’s dedication to making a film entirely out of his daughter’s greatest nightmares, and you can look at its aesthetics in a youthful kind of way (like these are the thoughts and drawings of a child coming to life in an R-rated fashion).
Nonetheless, Obayashi was luckily still around to see how big House would become, with shirts being worn to film festivals, and copies of the film flying off the shelves. Nobuhiko Obayashi sadly passed away April 10th this year after battling lung cancer. His finest achievement — and one of cult cinema’s brightest gems — will forever be discussed. His confidence in House’s artistic and comedic preposterousness resulted in a favourite cinematic pastime for many. In a way, House was Jaws after all, considering the devoted following. The main difference is that Jaws has many imitators. No one’s touching House. House cannot be mimicked.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.