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Silent House: Going for the Gimmick

By Jim Rohner · March 12, 2012

In a way, Silent House has something in common with recently coroneted Best Picture winner, The Artist.  Now, I know what some of you might be saying: "Jim, you crazy bastard, you've said some nutty things before (a positive review for Contraband?), but this may be the nuttiest!  What could an American remake of a Uruguayan horror film stitched together to appear as though it were shot in one continuous take have in common with a French silent film shot in black and white and a 1.33:1 aspect ratio that went on to win 5 Academy Awards?"

Firstly, both films relied on their respective visual novelties to superficially peak audiences' curiosities – Silent House's daring long take, The Artist's erstwhile silence.  Secondly, despite whatever the filmmakers may have been intending to do with the film once warm bodies were in the seats, both films undoubtedly will suffer and have suffered from audiences' preconceived notions. 

For instance, when it comes to Silent House, some people will be so hung up on the novelty of a long take that they'll only see the gimmicky side to it – they'll see the over reliance on shallow focus for scares, they'll focus on the dark moments where the directors likely stitched together multiple takes to create the illusion of one, and they'll point out that the visual flair distracts from a vapid story. 

On the other hand, those excited for the film will see the benefits it reaps from tackling a creative challenge – they'll see the most tense and atmospheric horror film to be released this year, they'll experience the power directors Chris Kentis and Laura Lau hold over them with their roaming yet tunnel visioned cameras, and they'll recognize the talent within Elizabeth Olsen to maintain a consistent and harrowing performance.  And you know what?  Both the detractors and the enthusiasts would be right.

Silent Houseis so called because of the lack of sound that is so often the selling point of remote, lakeside vacation homes.  This one in particular, a childhood getaway for Sarah (Olsen) and her father, John (Adam Trese), is in various stages of disrepair due to a combination of neglect and vandalism.  Sarah makes a point to mention that squatters and hooligans have not even spared the windows, which have been replaced by less effective but significantly creepier wooden boards.  Combine a gratuitous lack of glass with wonky electrical wiring and it's understandable that Sarah, her dad, and her Uncle Peter (Eric Sheffer Stevens) need lanterns and flashlights to navigate through a pitch-black house in the middle of the day.

Being brothers, John and Peter poke at and jest with each other, but the exact nature of their off screen dispute that sends Peter stomping furiously out the door is unclear.  At first.

Peter's departure leaves father and daughter alone to clean up the memories in their shell of a house, but if they are truly alone, why is Sarah hearing footsteps from the top floor?  An examination turns up nothing and yet somehow nothing incapacitates Sarah's father and chases her through the house.  Suddenly, all the boarded up windows and padlocked doors are not keeping squatters out, but are keeping Sarah in and whatever is inside grows increasingly sinister.

Folks with a proficiency for screaming futile advice to horror film protagonists would do best to avoid Silent House as the camera's relentless shadowing of Sarah's every move essentially turns the entire film into one 85-minute long "don't go in there!" sequence.  Completely unhindered by any (visible) edits that would pull us out of a scene or release any building tension, the long take approach drags us, ready or not, along with Sarah's every hesitant step down each darkened hallway, every reluctant peak around a corner and every screaming flight away from an unidentified yet ominous threat.  DP Igor Martinovic made a fantastic decision combining the Canon EOS 5D Mark II with the handheld fluorescent lamps that add an eery yet maddeningly (and, I imagine, purposely) limited glow to the claustrophobic setting, but after a while the camera tricks employed in lieu of editing – shallow focus, shaky cam, obliviousness to the periphery – get a little tired. 

By executing a film that makes no room for B-roll, shot/reverse shot set ups, or subplots, Kentis and Lau have crafted a film that may be the most manipulative you'll see this year.  There is no other way to experience Silent House other than the way they are commanding you to experience, no other surrogate for the audience other than Sarah.  Luckily, Olsen is more than capable of handling the attention as she shows remarkable continuity and resiliency in inhabiting a seemingly inescapable character and atmosphere.  Still, it's a bold move by the directing duo because rejection of even a serving of the film will likely result in a wholesale rejection. 

And yet, while Kentis and Lau should be applauded for successfully navigating a logistical nightmare, a spade must be called a spade in admitting that Silent House's "real time" angle is a gimmick.  In definition, a gimmick is a trick or device intended to attract attention and once Silent House has lured you into the theater, you'll see that unlike The Artist, there is nothing inherent in the story that would make long takes conducive to the plot.  In fact, even saying that Silent House has a plot would be flattering to the loose correlation of images that see their fruition reached in a capstone ending that is bizarrely nonsensical and ineffectual.  If not for the knowledge that this iteration of the film was a remake, I'd swear the gimmick was the initial idea with a story to accommodate it a secondary concern.  Perhaps I should be angrier at that fact, but even if I were to be so bold as to call Silent House a failure – and I'm not – an ambitious failure is still far more interesting than efficient mediocrity.