There is a notion that is constantly repeated in any class on film analysis, especially when it comes to documentaries: the material a movie is based on doesn’t necessarily equal what it is talking about.
So, when the title of the documentary film directed by Mike Attie, Katarina Poljak, and Nathan R. Stenberg, The Haunting of Pennhurst, suggests that it is about the history of the infamous institution, it is both true and not entirely so.
While there are other works, both documentary and fiction, that tackle the subject (American Horror Story: Asylum, for instance, based its horrific Briarcliff Manor on several real-life hospitals, including Pennhurst), the film in question stresses the other word in its name. This is a movie about hauntings – the tangible presence of something that is supposed to be long gone. Precisely what presence this is, we are about to see.
At first glance, it might seem that the authors might be implying actual haunting, since we catch up with the old Pennhurst complex as it gets a new life of sorts as a haunted attraction operated by a group of performers with disabilities. As they prepare their routine and train new participants, glimpses of the tragic past of the former “state school and hospital” also come to life on screen: archival footage and shots from the old days, the narration of a former patient, and remnants of the cruel practices found in dilapidated buildings.
Unlike another fascinating documentary from this year’s Tribeca program, American Zoo, which unearths unsettling facts behind the iconic Catskill Game Farm, The Haunting of Pennhurst doesn’t really reveal anything that wasn’t public knowledge at this point. Instead, the horror unfolds through the mundane manner in which certain details and former staff members' opinions are presented, once again giving us, as the audience, a glimpse into the tragic banality of evil, the greatest examples of which always begin with routine, everyday deeds.
The haunted attraction initiative becomes an exorcism attempt of sorts, with its organizers and participants setting out to reclaim not only their disabilities but the weight of the collective trauma of the past. The concept of reclaiming traumatizing experiences is verbalized in the film several times, creating a parallel between what we see on screen and the idea of a therapeutic effect the horror genre can potentially have in general. But as horror movies and books have taught us, the problem with hauntings is precisely that some ghosts just refuse to stay in the past, always seeping into the present.
Sure, Pennhurst has been closed and discredited since 1987, but that doesn’t mean its dark heritage is a matter of the past. While the film is subtle about drawing parallels, it’s painfully obvious that the fear and rejection of “the other”, segregation, and dehumanization are still very much a part of today’s society.
The actual ghosts of Pennhurst and other similar institutions didn’t just disappear into thin air when the doors closed, and the buildings were blown down. And if you dare to ask if they’re in the room with us right now, you may not like the answer.
The film enjoys its world premiere at the 2026 Tribeca Festival. It screens again tody. Visit the film's page at the official festival site for more information.