We Are Still Here (2015)

"This house needs a family."

I have watched a few movies this month already. Most of them have been horror comedies. I have been keen, then, to get my eyes on a truly scary scary movie.

I remember picking up a DVD copy of We Are Still Here (2015) on sale at Target, having been intrigued by the gorgeous cover art. At the time, the Rotten Tomatoes score was fairly low, with only a few reviews posted. I passed on the purchase, but the film stayed in the back of my mind ever since: I am a sucker for a great haunted house story.

Flash forward to the current day, as I scour the internet for worthy films to include on my October playlist. We Are Still Here kept popping up. I returned to Rotten Tomatoes, and discovered the film had a 95% score, based on 43 reviews. I wanted to touch on many of the subgenres of the wider horror umbrella, and found myself lacking for a proper haunted house film. It turns out that We Are Still Here was one of the most popular horror film gems of its year, overshadowed only by the powerhouse It Follows.

With renewed interest, and excitement. I fired up Amazon Prime, where We Are Still Here, streams free for Prime subscribers.

Summary:

The Sachettis, Anne and Paul, move into a quaint New England house after the tragic loss of their son. But they aren't alone. There's something there. It's been there for years. And it needs a family.

Pros (Spoiler Free):

Beautiful Period Piece: The art direction on this film is quietly one of its greatest strengths. The costumes are late-seventies authentic without veering towards false chic or ridiculous parody. The movie looks and feels like it might just actually have been produced in 1979, from the rattling station wagons, to the gentle glow and noisy quality of the film. The house at the film's center is from a different time and place, and everything looks real and lived-in. If you didn't KNOW that this movie came out three years ago, you might just think it came out over thirty years ago.

Masterful Slow Burn: Many horror films err on the side of SLOW when they attempt to craft a slow burn scare-fest. You build the tension and the scares until they explode in a terrifying crescendo. Writer/director Ted Geoghegan manages to hit the ground running from the film's first scene, and slowly scale up the scares and terror, all without wasting a second of screen time. The film runs a slick 84 minutes, and it neither feels rushed or overly long. That's a delicate balance to strike, and immediately impressive. A fast slow burn. Go figure.

That Finale: The horror builds slowly, but when Geoghegan lets all hell break loose, boy, he swings for the fences. Essentially, the whole town is in on the horror, here. They know the house demands a sacrifice every thirty years, and they do their damndest to make sure a family is set up there to take the fall for them. Fearing the house's wrath spilling out into their town, the townspeople descend on the quiet farmhouse to make sure the Sachetti's go down. But the house has other ideas. As the crazed mob attempts to infiltrate the house, the house fights back. It sucks them through the floorboards, it bursts chests out, it immolates people into black smears on the stairs, and it POPS A MAN'S HEAD LIKE A MELON. The film's early, low-fi scares build to this blood-smeared, viscera-spattered finale, and I can't help but feel like the film earned its violent decadence. Not only is it cathartic to see these evil people get theirs, it is also incredibly satisfying to see the house's full wrath turned up to eleven.

The Sounds: Wojciech Golczewski's score is all throbbing dread. I loved it. And the soundmixing is just beautiful: you realize, early on, that, any time the film is in the house, the gentle crackle of a stoked fire is ALWAYS front and center in the sound mix. Whenever the house's creatures show up, that crackle builds in intensity, too. Bumps bump in the night, the house creaks, things fall down for unexplained reasons: the movie makes a lot of horror hay out of a well-designed soundscape, here.

"Holy Shit": Any movie that makes me say, out loud, "Holy shit," multiple times, is worth its salt. I was waiting to be scared, and We Are Still Here delivered for me.

The End Credits: In a clever turn, the end credits explain, through old newspaper articles and headlines, the history of the house and the nearby town. After the events of the film, the trip down history lane is a nice touch, and really builds the sense of established lore of the film.

Scares Done Right: This film DOES feature a few jump scares, but it pulls them off with verve and confidence, and never goes to the well too often. Instead, the film relies on simple things: shadowy figures appearing in frame where previously there was only empty space; a baseball plunking down the steps of the basement; strange, muffled crashes in the bowels of the house. The movie features a slew of ways to make you afraid, and I appreciated the diverse portfolio of scares.

Cons:

Some Wood: The film boasts a cast of, as far as I can tell, horror genre stalwarts. While, by and large, they do a pretty solid job, there are moments that ring a little false. It does kind of add to the "classic horror feature" vibe, however. So, ya know, maybe I'm full of shit.

In Conclusion:

I love a great haunted house feature, and I love movies that respect my time by not wasting it. I loved this movie. We Are Still Here is a film that comes with a clever, albeit simple, premise, an impressive aesthetic, and some genuine scares.

Should You Watch It?

YES. Absolutely. It is fun, unnerving, and a worthy inclusion on any Halloween playlist. It's on Amazon, go watch it, already.

Miscellany:

- It is mentioned that previous owners of the home sold corpses to the "University over in Essex." This is a reference to Miskatonik University, the hallowed institution of occult learning from H.P. Lovecraft's writings.
- The 70s era costumes were all purchased at thrift stores. YASSSS!
- All the era-specific cars were loaned by locals from the town of Shortsville, NY, where the production filmed.