Domus Mactibilis

It’s true. For a guy who claims his entire life is movies, I don’t spend a heck of a lot of time blogging about what’s out there in the theaters. It’s not that there’s a lack of want – it’s just that I like to keep the Land Elsewhere nation a relatively sunny place, and I’m pretty sure that broadcasting my thoughts on flicks like MIAMI VICE might just send us all hurtling headlong into a bottomless pit of darkness and despair.

?That may seem a little harsh (to the lucky ones who haven’t seen MIAMI VICE, at any rate) but you have to understand that the kind of movies I really love – the kind I can’t help but write about – have all but vanished from the screen. Theoretically, it’s possible that these movies are still out there and I simply don’t connect with them in the same way I did when I was eight. But given that every girl I date tells me I have the emotional maturity of an infant, I’m betting this isn’t the case. No, it’s more as if every script with the wonder, intelligence and quiet cynicism of a GREMLINS, GOONIES or BACK TO THE FUTURE has been locked away in that warehouse from the end of RAIDERS, where “top men” are laboring to discover how they have the power to sway young Canadians away from a perfectly sensible career in law and toward the widowmaking profession of filmmaking.

Locked away, that is, until now.

I’ll be the first to admit that I was wary of MONSTER HOUSE, mainly due to the fact it was made with the same motion-capture technique that had failed so spectacularly in THE POLAR EXPRESS. Based on the hauntingly dead eyes of that film’s characters, I was all but certain that the human cast of MONSTER HOUSE would end up far more frightening than any creature that filmmaker Gil Kenan could put on screen. Kenan was, in himself, another minor issue – plucked straight out UCLA’s film program, he seemed like a pretender to the throne for a film as large and expensive as this (yeah, I had to rework that sentence two or three times to get the taste of sour grapes out of my mouth). And while the story – about a trio of pubescents who discover that the real estate market is far more hostile than anyone ever imagined – is right in my strike zone, I wasn’t convinced that anyone could imbue a house with life, personality and scares. I was wrong.

MONSTER HOUSE mixes equal parts wonder, hilarity and suspense to create a film that couldn’t be more deserving of its place in the Amblin canon. Sharp writing from Rob Schrab, Dan Harmon and Pam Pettler delivers characters – house included – that, although computer generated, seem far more real and relatable than any live action cast in recent memory. The animation is lush, vibrant and, above all else, incredibly cinematic in its presentation of these suburban kids and their timeless neighborhood. It also features an added dimension (the third, to be precise) thanks to digital 3-D projection, which was used in its absolute simplest form but still to great effect. By this I mean that the film was in 3-D without being a “3-D Movie”, wisely avoiding the pitfall of having random objects flying at the camera every thirty seconds or so. The technique is used simply to add another layer to an already complex cinematic world, of which the glasses themselves feel a part. They’re 50’s-style horn rims that come individually packaged with a comical warning not to use them as sunglasses, almost daring you to try. I still have them sitting on my dresser.

Impressive as the technique may be, the true star of the film is the house itself – a cinematic monster so complex in design and in character that it’s an absolute wonder to watch. The house has feelings (psychotic rage in particular) and, by the end of the film, you can’t help but have feelings for it – maybe even a little sympathy. It’s difficult not to give away some of the more inventive means by which the house springs to life, but just let me say you should keep your eyes on the trees – especially in the third act. To Gil director Kenan’s credit, while I once doubted the ability to give a house life, personality and scares, I can now say that the titular character of MONSTER HOUSE is the crowning achievement of an already impressive film.

I know, all this kind of reads like a love letter for the movie. But I suppose it should – this is, after all, the rarest of cinematic treats. It’s the kind of film that makes me remember why I wanted to get into filmmaking, inspiring that same awe in the moving image as the Amblin films of my youth. All I can say beyond that is that you need to go out and see this movie, in 3-D if you can. Now. Because I won’t stop bugging you until you check it out.