A Haunting at the Last House on Haunted Hill

A Haunting in Connecticut: So the movie pitch to the studio heads probably went something like this:

"Ok, we're gonna get Casey Jones, the wine-taster from Candyman, Slimer, and a bunch of extras from 13 Ghosts. The movie is barely based on real life events, but who gives a fuck? We'll scare the audience roughly once every five minutes."

So that about sums up this movie. There are effective, but predictable scares at every corner. But I couldn't help but be reminded that I've seen this somewhere before...House on Haunted Hill! Creepy house that used to be an insane asylum or mortuary? Check. Old operation room? Check. Bitter dead people? Check.

Nothing so much as an original bone in this movie...until Casey Jones crashes in. He puts on his hockey mask, does his best Powder impersonation, and kicks the ectoplasm out of the Foot Soldiers aka dead people. The turtles, not used to taking on zombies that have been Banksy'ed in blood, take a back seat to that woman chanting Candyman in the mirror until Bloody Mary comes out to rip shit up. Christopher Walken, who was not available to play an arch-angel to Jones's vigilante, commented "come join me for champan-ya at The Continental." And then Forrest Gump shows up and is like "well shit man!."

The fat guy beside me, who was hard of breathing, sounded like he was gonna have a heart attack during the movie. In this day and age, I think that counts as being entertained.

I give this movie 1.5 shriveled balls in a room full of gay people wearing angel wings...meaning I don't know if I was scared or had a good time.