A Haunted House 2: A Crushingly Bleak Affair

A Haunted House 2 is the sequel to the Marlon Wayans film of same name that annoyed audiences back in 2013. It's bad. It is so very bad that calling it bad wastes your time. How bad is it? It is completely divorced from most words you would use to describe it.

First, it is not a comedy. Nor does it qualify as a spoof film. It's a series of references to genre flicks that are poorly recreated to such a degree that the film might illicit more scares than genuine laughs. This isn't even to limit this to genuine scares, as there is a sort of overarching horror associated with most scenarios presented, a terror in believing that other people (plural) created what you are watching and did so as a form of entertainment. Secondly, the idea of calling this a movie stretches our definition and basic understanding of the form.

There is a point that most critics hit, wherein a good movie is easy to critique because the bad is obvious or personal; and where a bad film can be fascinating because it presents a few worthwhile ideas that were railroaded elsewhere in productions. There is simply nothing to say about a film where a man keeps raping a sex doll and other people get scared of things only because they are in a movie built on the idea they are scared of things. For a no-budget production, the film is one loud, frenetic affair that never stops shouting, hoping you'll somehow become invested in the mere volume it presents.

A Haunted House 2 is a crushingly bleak affair; stupid to the point of insult, loud to the point of physical pain, and so pointless that it serves as a frightening reminder of what we're up against as a culture. This isn't just a pass, this is a forget, and maybe even a burn. Don't do this to yourself.