Review – The House that Screamed

After sitting through this stinker, I know how the house feels. If you hit David Lynch in the head with a brick until you reduced his IQ to the level of dryer lint and then forced him at gunpoint to remake 1408, you’d end up with something like this. What little plot there is has something to do with a writer who deliberately rents a haunted house. But the real raison d’etre here is more likely to be sentiments such as “dude, this movie would be wicked kewl if it had a lot of shots of a severed arm nailed to a wall.” This looks like somebody’s undergraduate video production final project, and probably not the class high score. Wish I’d skipped it