House of the Devil works as both retro homage and legitimate genre entry for the exact reasons that a movie like Black Dynamite doesn't work as either.
House of the Devil sets itself in the early 80's and adopts the bare-bones setup of its forebears: babysitter meets devil worshippers. The clothes, cars, music and even camera work (remember zooms?) are indicative of this era. These elements provide knowing fans with moments of geeky recognition, but they aren't unnecessarily heightened or emphasized for cheap laughs. The gigantic cassette Walkmen that heroine Samantha clings to as her characters most important artifact is of course funny when viewed from the era of the iPod Nano. But writer/director Ti West doesn't feel the need to write jokes around the prop as was most certainly the case with Black Dynamite's Blaxploitation period trappings. West wants his cake and to eat it too and surprisingly he pulls this off. He manages to make both a retro homage and an effective horror movie. The style and self-conscious detail of his reverence doesn't overwhelm its power to frighten. Unfortunately, Black Dynamite wasn't as ambitious, it merely wanted to send up an already fairly ridiculous subject.
Samantha is a college student who is hard up for the deposit on her dream apartment, a just out-of-reach oasis away from her cramped dorm room shared with a sexed up slob of a roommate. She answers a flyer for a babysitting position as a last ditch effort to scrape together some cash. The couple she babysits for end up being murderous devil worshippers who have prepared a hell night to coincide with a satanically significant lunar eclipse. It's a simple one-line concept "girl babysits for satanists", but unfortunately the movie takes nearly 35 minutes setting it up. Nothing much happens in this extended opening, and Samantha's concerns never run higher than "how do I get some cash?" so I found these establishment sequences a little trying. The pace of the movies West emulates were never so languid, producers always knew enough to cut to some boobs or blood in order to keep bums in seats. I'm all for a slow-burn before an explosion, but so little happens in House of the Devil's build-up and what does has a vaguely student-film quality to it.
The middle section is where House of the Devil really shines and admittedly owes some of its success to the patience it demands of viewers from the outset. When Samantha is driven to her out-of-the-way babysitting gig by her annoying friend (played by indie darling Greta Gerwig) the very sight of the ominous house (which is an amazing location) sets the horror gears in motion. The house is gigantic and terrifying in every way. In reality, anyone pulling into the driveway of such a house would immediately reverse it and get the fuck outta there. And if the sheer creepiness of the house doesn't make them change their mind about babysitting for strangers, meeting the employers certainly would. The couple who own the house are played by veteran character actors and B-movie stalwarts Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov and their sheer towering height and combined creepiness makes them a horror movie pairing made in heaven (or hell). Their every word and mannerism screams "GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!" but they keep upping Samantha's fee in order to get her to stay and babysit an elderly mother. Before she knows it, Samantha has bargained her way into her apartments deposit and then some!
After some negotiating, the couple leave for the evening and Samantha is finally alone. Much like the opening, nothing eventful really happens in this middle section either, but every step Samantha takes and every camera angle is infused with dread and the anticipation of something awful. As the nosy teen walks through the hallways and opens doors, getting the lay of the creepy land, the viewer is practically frozen in place, holding their breath. As Samantha carelessly explores the house, West both expertly crafts the journey as well as trades on two decades worth of babysitter horror movie memories. This balance, of craftsmanship and adoption of carefully selected cliches, pays off for the film and creates one of the scariest most atmospheric horror movies in a long time--without resorting to current shocker trends of extreme violence.
When the shit finally does hit the fan, it's maybe a little disappointing to find out exactly what's going on, if only because the unknown terror of the middle section is so effective. What's the satanic version of Immaculate Conception? Horrendous Reproduction? Anyway, by the time the credits roll in retro yellow font over a static shot, Samantha has been through a blood-drenched ordeal and director Ti West has proved both his reverence and skill for a genre that has become such a part of our cultural subconscious that it's stories can now be told in shorthand. House of the Devil proves you don't have to necessarily reinvent the wheel to continue to scare audiences, sometimes you just need to give the old one a few fresh spins.
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