Gustavo Hernandez's La Casa Muda proves surprisingly difficult to address.
When the trailer for the film first appeared and caused something of a cult buzz in the online community, the attention was split evenly between the fact that the film was contained in a single uninterrupted shot and that what glimpses we got of that shot were remarkably cinematic - perhaps the best looking of the first-person horror films released to date. And on that level La Casa Muda delivers wholeheartedly.
The film is a remarkable exercise in atmosphere, impeccably shot by Pedro Luque - also behind the camera for viral sensation, giant robot short film Panic Attack - and graced with aggressive and effective sound design. That the jumps work and the film plays to a crowd is undeniable.
Unfortunately, what is also undeniable is that there are some significant flaws as well, prime among them a serious credibility gap with the film's main character behaving in ways so obviously unlike what any actual person would do in a similar situation that it provoked more than a bit of nervous laughter among the audience. Yes, the film attempted to explain her behavior in the final act but with any sort of reflection the explanation offered up actually poses more problems than it solves.
Florencia Colucci is Laura, a teenaged girl taken with her father to visit a friend's remote house. It's a dark place, remote and gloomy and bereft of power - forcing the pair to rely on battery powered lanterns and candles - in which they must sit and wait alone for a time while their host heads out to pick up some food for the group. He lives them with only one instruction: Upstairs is a mess, don't go there. Laura's father does.
Investigating some strange sounds from the upper reaches of the seemingly enormous house, Laura's father goes where he was told not to and returns some minutes later bloody and bound and on the edge of death. He smears his daughter with blood as he drops to the floor, beginning what is meant to be a night of terror for Laura.
And here is where the significant problems rear their head. That we haven't been given any time to get to know Laura or her father before this is certainly an issue as well but the key point is that when crisis hits Laura behaves in inexplicable ways. She's frightened, yes. That's very clear. But thrust into a situation where she is clearly in a house with a dangerous killer Laura, inexplicably, fails to flee. Throw a dead guy in a room with me and couple the presence of the dead guy with the fact that his killer is somewhere else in the house and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get out of that room and as far away from that building as possible, and I'm going to do it fast. Door locked? No problem, I'll break it down or smash a window or do something else - anything else - to get out of there. But not Laura. No, in the name of stringing together a series of jump scares the movie has Laura walk, whimper and crawl very, very slowly from room to room in the house, taking a lengthy pause in each to supposedly look for a key while all manner of bizarre and dangerous stuff is happening around her. It may seem like a somewhat minor point to seize on but after forty minutes of Laura failing to take any significant action to save her own life, well ... it's not minor at that point at all.
On certain levels La Casa Muda is a strong, compelling piece of work - one that showcases what can be done by talented people on a tiny budget. There is a lot of talent on display here. That is absolutely true. But there is also a very fundamental narrative failure that undercuts the characters and the audience's ability to engage with them to a serious degree. In the end it promises more for the future of the talents behind it than it delivers in the present.
When the trailer for the film first appeared and caused something of a cult buzz in the online community, the attention was split evenly between the fact that the film was contained in a single uninterrupted shot and that what glimpses we got of that shot were remarkably cinematic - perhaps the best looking of the first-person horror films released to date. And on that level La Casa Muda delivers wholeheartedly.
The film is a remarkable exercise in atmosphere, impeccably shot by Pedro Luque - also behind the camera for viral sensation, giant robot short film Panic Attack - and graced with aggressive and effective sound design. That the jumps work and the film plays to a crowd is undeniable.
Unfortunately, what is also undeniable is that there are some significant flaws as well, prime among them a serious credibility gap with the film's main character behaving in ways so obviously unlike what any actual person would do in a similar situation that it provoked more than a bit of nervous laughter among the audience. Yes, the film attempted to explain her behavior in the final act but with any sort of reflection the explanation offered up actually poses more problems than it solves.
Florencia Colucci is Laura, a teenaged girl taken with her father to visit a friend's remote house. It's a dark place, remote and gloomy and bereft of power - forcing the pair to rely on battery powered lanterns and candles - in which they must sit and wait alone for a time while their host heads out to pick up some food for the group. He lives them with only one instruction: Upstairs is a mess, don't go there. Laura's father does.
Investigating some strange sounds from the upper reaches of the seemingly enormous house, Laura's father goes where he was told not to and returns some minutes later bloody and bound and on the edge of death. He smears his daughter with blood as he drops to the floor, beginning what is meant to be a night of terror for Laura.
And here is where the significant problems rear their head. That we haven't been given any time to get to know Laura or her father before this is certainly an issue as well but the key point is that when crisis hits Laura behaves in inexplicable ways. She's frightened, yes. That's very clear. But thrust into a situation where she is clearly in a house with a dangerous killer Laura, inexplicably, fails to flee. Throw a dead guy in a room with me and couple the presence of the dead guy with the fact that his killer is somewhere else in the house and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get out of that room and as far away from that building as possible, and I'm going to do it fast. Door locked? No problem, I'll break it down or smash a window or do something else - anything else - to get out of there. But not Laura. No, in the name of stringing together a series of jump scares the movie has Laura walk, whimper and crawl very, very slowly from room to room in the house, taking a lengthy pause in each to supposedly look for a key while all manner of bizarre and dangerous stuff is happening around her. It may seem like a somewhat minor point to seize on but after forty minutes of Laura failing to take any significant action to save her own life, well ... it's not minor at that point at all.
On certain levels La Casa Muda is a strong, compelling piece of work - one that showcases what can be done by talented people on a tiny budget. There is a lot of talent on display here. That is absolutely true. But there is also a very fundamental narrative failure that undercuts the characters and the audience's ability to engage with them to a serious degree. In the end it promises more for the future of the talents behind it than it delivers in the present.