Confession time: as happens on occasion, I’m not coming into this review of 1947’s The Red House entirely unaware of the film’s offerings.
You see, I’ve watched the release before. Twice, in fact. I’ve even written about it previously, though I suspect that that review is presently lost to history. (I’m fairly certain I covered it during my tenure as an Amazon Top 1,000 Reviewer on behalf of a different distributor awhile back.) While I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on the production in any measure, I am familiar with the story, its characters, its highs, its lows, and its rather dark ending, especially dark given that fact that Sol Lesser Productions put this one into theaters back in the late 1940’s. That’s not to say everything within the opening and closing credits is objectionable; but the script – attributed to Delmer Daves (who also directs) and Albert Maltz adapting the George Agnew Chamberlain novel of the same name – does deal with subject matter some might find objectionable. Regardless, it’s a project that’s grown in stature over the years; and there are some who even christen The Red House as one of the best Horrors from the year of its original release.
Before I get into the nitty gritty, let me assure you that House both is and isn’t a Horror. Like a great many flicks, it has elements that are commonly found in traditional chillers, but the vast majority of its 100-minute running time is far more conventional melodrama than anything else. In fact, a great deal of what makes it a Psychological Thriller gets obscured in the process and isn’t known until fairly late in the picture. That’s not a complaint; rather, it's an explanation why someone who seeks this one out and explores it might need to be more than a little patient to get to its ‘screamy center.’ It’s there – not a lot of it – but most of it resides in the last reel for specific reasons that I’ll try to avoid spoiling heavily (yet some disclosures are required critically).
Right up front, let me assure you that it most definitely is a film deserving of its reputation. Part Horror, part Melodrama, part Film Noir, and maybe even part Cult fascination, House includes a great deal of what audiences appreciate even when settling for escapist fare. My issues concern casting, pacing, and the script, mostly; but overall the experts who’ve already sung the project’s praises know full well what they’re talking about. If anything, my humble opinion will largely underscore a few differing viewpoints.
You see, I’ve watched the release before. Twice, in fact. I’ve even written about it previously, though I suspect that that review is presently lost to history. (I’m fairly certain I covered it during my tenure as an Amazon Top 1,000 Reviewer on behalf of a different distributor awhile back.) While I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on the production in any measure, I am familiar with the story, its characters, its highs, its lows, and its rather dark ending, especially dark given that fact that Sol Lesser Productions put this one into theaters back in the late 1940’s. That’s not to say everything within the opening and closing credits is objectionable; but the script – attributed to Delmer Daves (who also directs) and Albert Maltz adapting the George Agnew Chamberlain novel of the same name – does deal with subject matter some might find objectionable. Regardless, it’s a project that’s grown in stature over the years; and there are some who even christen The Red House as one of the best Horrors from the year of its original release.
Before I get into the nitty gritty, let me assure you that House both is and isn’t a Horror. Like a great many flicks, it has elements that are commonly found in traditional chillers, but the vast majority of its 100-minute running time is far more conventional melodrama than anything else. In fact, a great deal of what makes it a Psychological Thriller gets obscured in the process and isn’t known until fairly late in the picture. That’s not a complaint; rather, it's an explanation why someone who seeks this one out and explores it might need to be more than a little patient to get to its ‘screamy center.’ It’s there – not a lot of it – but most of it resides in the last reel for specific reasons that I’ll try to avoid spoiling heavily (yet some disclosures are required critically).
Right up front, let me assure you that it most definitely is a film deserving of its reputation. Part Horror, part Melodrama, part Film Noir, and maybe even part Cult fascination, House includes a great deal of what audiences appreciate even when settling for escapist fare. My issues concern casting, pacing, and the script, mostly; but overall the experts who’ve already sung the project’s praises know full well what they’re talking about. If anything, my humble opinion will largely underscore a few differing viewpoints.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An old man and his sister are concealing a terrible secret from their adopted teen daughter, concerning a hidden abandoned farmhouse, located deep in the woods.”
The great American backwoods towns have a reputation all of their own.
Chiefly, these tiny little bergs sprinkled across the United States are known for being quiet places where time – to a degree – has stood still, leaving the residents kinda/sorta living out a shared existence in a bubble cut off from the world at large. They’re known for their own cooking recipes handed down through the ages, few (if any) stoplights, and everyone heading out to the high school football field for the big game on Friday nights. There’s never enough to do, so the residents typically spend their time on wholesome pursuits, sipping lemonade on their front porch or sipping lemonade out in front of the Country Store on a hot Saturday afternoon. Everyone knows everybody else – why, they’re all on a first name basis, don’t you know – and, similarly, everyone knows everybody else’s business. Of course, they’ll keep secrets – folks everywhere do that – but are there really dark tales needing to be kept from public consumption?
It's into this territory that The Red House pulls back the curtain on the Morgan household. Its patriarch Pete (played by the legendary Edgar G. Robinson) and his sister Ellen (Judith Anderson) live their lives almost completely sticking to the farm, never really travelling into town for anything more than the bare necessities. They’re built a life around the idea of self-sufficiency. Together, they’re put their heart and soul into raising their adopted daughter Meg (Allene Roberts) whose parents reportedly ran off years before in pursuit of their own ‘great American dream’ only to have their lives cut short in a tragic accident “down South” whose details remain somewhat nebulous. While not quite the traditional nuclear family, the three are about as close as one comes; but their constant isolation – even in these parts – has been the source of gossip for some time.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An old man and his sister are concealing a terrible secret from their adopted teen daughter, concerning a hidden abandoned farmhouse, located deep in the woods.”
The great American backwoods towns have a reputation all of their own.
Chiefly, these tiny little bergs sprinkled across the United States are known for being quiet places where time – to a degree – has stood still, leaving the residents kinda/sorta living out a shared existence in a bubble cut off from the world at large. They’re known for their own cooking recipes handed down through the ages, few (if any) stoplights, and everyone heading out to the high school football field for the big game on Friday nights. There’s never enough to do, so the residents typically spend their time on wholesome pursuits, sipping lemonade on their front porch or sipping lemonade out in front of the Country Store on a hot Saturday afternoon. Everyone knows everybody else – why, they’re all on a first name basis, don’t you know – and, similarly, everyone knows everybody else’s business. Of course, they’ll keep secrets – folks everywhere do that – but are there really dark tales needing to be kept from public consumption?
It's into this territory that The Red House pulls back the curtain on the Morgan household. Its patriarch Pete (played by the legendary Edgar G. Robinson) and his sister Ellen (Judith Anderson) live their lives almost completely sticking to the farm, never really travelling into town for anything more than the bare necessities. They’re built a life around the idea of self-sufficiency. Together, they’re put their heart and soul into raising their adopted daughter Meg (Allene Roberts) whose parents reportedly ran off years before in pursuit of their own ‘great American dream’ only to have their lives cut short in a tragic accident “down South” whose details remain somewhat nebulous. While not quite the traditional nuclear family, the three are about as close as one comes; but their constant isolation – even in these parts – has been the source of gossip for some time.
Knowing that Pete (who is peg-legged but, alas, I'll not say why) is desperately in need of a pair of hands to help him out tending to the farm, Meg manages to lure home a classmate – Nath Storm (Lon McCallister) – one day mostly because she harbors a schoolgirl crush on the lad as well. A bit of a curmudgeon, Pete warms to the boy more out of the fact that he wants to keep Meg happy (and homebound) than anything else; and an employment relationship is established. Nath puts in an afternoon’s work and even hangs about for a meal; but when he announces that he’s heading home for the evening and wanting to take a short cut across Pete’s heavily forested property, the old man slowly grows incensed, warning the young man that the place is haunted.
This is where House definitely enters some mildly spectral terrain.
Allegedly, there’s a red house somewhere out there in the wild; and – though only Pete and Ellen seem to know its history – something decidedly evil took place there long ago. Surprisingly, Nath gives no indication that he’s ever heard of such a tale – a bit of a narrative miss, if you ask me, especially given the fact that the Morgans are seemingly the talk of the town – and insists on heading into these woods despite the hard-tempered caution. Whatever he does, Pete says, Nath is not to go anywhere near the red house.
In a very good sequence, the young man braves the dark and stormy night on what he believes would be a ‘walk in the park,’ and it doesn’t take long for him to grow overwhelmed with sounds akin to screaming in the blackness. Though he gets himself turned around once or twice, Nath eventually is overcome by the experience; and he manages to find his way back to the Morgan farm. Aghast with fear, he rushes into the barn and throws himself on the ground, a spot where Pete eventually finds him after telephoning the boy’s mother to let her know they’ll keep him safe for the night.
Daves delivers a fabulous set-up for what’s to follow. Meg and Nath – to the dismay of the boy’s girlfriend Tibby (Julie London) – believe they need to get to the bottom of whatever ‘spirit’ or legend is haunting this woodland. Though she doesn’t know why precisely, Meg feels drawn to the place, thinking that perhaps she’s even been to the red house before though she doesn’t know why. The three teenagers briefly team-up to explore the uncharted wilderness only to encounter a good deal of resistance from Teller (Rory Calhoun), a bit of a local miscreant whom Pete has secretly hired to keep folks from trespassing on his property. As happens in stories of this sort, the secret grows to big to deny; and Meg will uncover just why it all feels so familiar in perhaps one of the creepier scenes to come out of 1940’s cinema.
This is where House definitely enters some mildly spectral terrain.
Allegedly, there’s a red house somewhere out there in the wild; and – though only Pete and Ellen seem to know its history – something decidedly evil took place there long ago. Surprisingly, Nath gives no indication that he’s ever heard of such a tale – a bit of a narrative miss, if you ask me, especially given the fact that the Morgans are seemingly the talk of the town – and insists on heading into these woods despite the hard-tempered caution. Whatever he does, Pete says, Nath is not to go anywhere near the red house.
In a very good sequence, the young man braves the dark and stormy night on what he believes would be a ‘walk in the park,’ and it doesn’t take long for him to grow overwhelmed with sounds akin to screaming in the blackness. Though he gets himself turned around once or twice, Nath eventually is overcome by the experience; and he manages to find his way back to the Morgan farm. Aghast with fear, he rushes into the barn and throws himself on the ground, a spot where Pete eventually finds him after telephoning the boy’s mother to let her know they’ll keep him safe for the night.
Daves delivers a fabulous set-up for what’s to follow. Meg and Nath – to the dismay of the boy’s girlfriend Tibby (Julie London) – believe they need to get to the bottom of whatever ‘spirit’ or legend is haunting this woodland. Though she doesn’t know why precisely, Meg feels drawn to the place, thinking that perhaps she’s even been to the red house before though she doesn’t know why. The three teenagers briefly team-up to explore the uncharted wilderness only to encounter a good deal of resistance from Teller (Rory Calhoun), a bit of a local miscreant whom Pete has secretly hired to keep folks from trespassing on his property. As happens in stories of this sort, the secret grows to big to deny; and Meg will uncover just why it all feels so familiar in perhaps one of the creepier scenes to come out of 1940’s cinema.
Structurally, House revolves around several love triangles.
The aforementioned collision of Meg/Nath/Tibby occupies a good portion of the film’s first half; and as Tibby grows a bit resentful over her presumed beau’s attachment to Meg, she warms up to Teller. Eventually, the Nath/Tibby/Teller relationship comes to a head (with some violence); but it isn’t only the youngsters who get into the textual mix. There’s also a suggestion that Ellen previously held a torch for the town doctor – Jonathan Byrne (Harry Shannon) – a pairing that was never consummated in any way owed to her seemingly unbreakable bond with her own brother. Some might even wonder whether or not Ellen and Pete were engaged in some inappropriate tryst … that is, until the truth of Pete and Meg’s dark origins come to life in the second half. (Yes, you are free to think of that what you will, as I suspect many may have or definitely will.) There's even a non-sexual love association that gets modest screen time between Nath, his mother, and a possible suitor, a passing mention that winds up meaning vastly more if audiences stop to think about it what it says about trials of the human heart. Damn near everyone in the film is connecting in some way or another to others; and, yes, that matters.
It's this nexus wherein love comes into conflict with third parties that inevitably ties all of this melodrama together. Without spoiling all of the particulars, much of what remains unknown links directly to Pete’s actions; and House explores the long-term effect keeping secrets has upon his fragile mind. There’s a surprisingly menace lurking behind his otherwise neighborly façade, the kind that pushed him to make some unthinkable choices in his own youth. The fact that Daves hired Robinson – a talent who truly built a screen presence around playing some of filmdom’s greatest heavies (i.e. villains) – is the kind of nuance which might have audiences questioning the decision in the first half of the picture … but there’s no escaping the power of Edgar’s transformation from the kindly father to perhaps everything but as he spirals out of control.
Mind you: there are signs along the way which suggest things that were decidedly heading into dark places. Watch closely to how Ellen looks at Pete, and you might even experience jointly the fear slowly bubbling to the surface in her own heart. Listen to Pete brazenly calling for Teller to use bullets to keep those kids out of the woods, and you’ll know there’s arguably something in the red house he’d stop at nothing to keep hidden. Even Meg’s growing discomfort at being casually misidentified by the aging Pete points us in the direction of tragedy. Follow these bread crumbs to the house itself, and you’ll have no doubt as to what a man once did in the pursuit of his own private happiness.
The aforementioned collision of Meg/Nath/Tibby occupies a good portion of the film’s first half; and as Tibby grows a bit resentful over her presumed beau’s attachment to Meg, she warms up to Teller. Eventually, the Nath/Tibby/Teller relationship comes to a head (with some violence); but it isn’t only the youngsters who get into the textual mix. There’s also a suggestion that Ellen previously held a torch for the town doctor – Jonathan Byrne (Harry Shannon) – a pairing that was never consummated in any way owed to her seemingly unbreakable bond with her own brother. Some might even wonder whether or not Ellen and Pete were engaged in some inappropriate tryst … that is, until the truth of Pete and Meg’s dark origins come to life in the second half. (Yes, you are free to think of that what you will, as I suspect many may have or definitely will.) There's even a non-sexual love association that gets modest screen time between Nath, his mother, and a possible suitor, a passing mention that winds up meaning vastly more if audiences stop to think about it what it says about trials of the human heart. Damn near everyone in the film is connecting in some way or another to others; and, yes, that matters.
It's this nexus wherein love comes into conflict with third parties that inevitably ties all of this melodrama together. Without spoiling all of the particulars, much of what remains unknown links directly to Pete’s actions; and House explores the long-term effect keeping secrets has upon his fragile mind. There’s a surprisingly menace lurking behind his otherwise neighborly façade, the kind that pushed him to make some unthinkable choices in his own youth. The fact that Daves hired Robinson – a talent who truly built a screen presence around playing some of filmdom’s greatest heavies (i.e. villains) – is the kind of nuance which might have audiences questioning the decision in the first half of the picture … but there’s no escaping the power of Edgar’s transformation from the kindly father to perhaps everything but as he spirals out of control.
Mind you: there are signs along the way which suggest things that were decidedly heading into dark places. Watch closely to how Ellen looks at Pete, and you might even experience jointly the fear slowly bubbling to the surface in her own heart. Listen to Pete brazenly calling for Teller to use bullets to keep those kids out of the woods, and you’ll know there’s arguably something in the red house he’d stop at nothing to keep hidden. Even Meg’s growing discomfort at being casually misidentified by the aging Pete points us in the direction of tragedy. Follow these bread crumbs to the house itself, and you’ll have no doubt as to what a man once did in the pursuit of his own private happiness.
The Red House (1947) was produced by Sol Lesser Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still see and hear a great deal of ‘meh’ across this one: some sequences appear a bit mildly out of focus (to this untrained eye), and the audio – while good, especially in a few key places – still sounds a bit dull and flat (to this untrained ear). As always, I’m willing to chalk this up to inferior source materials. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There’s a full-length commentary from Karen Burroughs Hannsberry that only occasionally feels like it has something to say as the expert spends more time in details outside of the production than inside. (Yes, this happens a great deal with older releases.) There’s also a collector’s booklet with some additional material provided by Chad Kennerk. A good assortment, all things considered.
Recommended.
The Red House (1947) benefits greatly by using themes and subtexts beyond conventional Drama to spin a dark and complex web about fidelity – or suggestions to the contrary – serving to haunt one man’s psyche for much longer than he could possibly have endured. Ultimately, the affable Pete Morgan pays the highest price imaginable (not once but thrice!), leaving audiences to forever debate whether or not his previous deeds (or misdeeds) truly required such a lethal penance. Production details are exceptional throughout; and – if anything – director Daves could’ve gotten more with less as several scenes play out longer than necessary, with even a few sequences seeming mildly repetitive to the point of questioning whether or not they were necessary. Still, the sight of Edgar G. Robinson having lost his marbles likely unnerved watchers of the day and maybe ever since. That fact alone might be the greatest gift given by this noirish, backwoods potboiler.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Red House (1947) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Recommended.
The Red House (1947) benefits greatly by using themes and subtexts beyond conventional Drama to spin a dark and complex web about fidelity – or suggestions to the contrary – serving to haunt one man’s psyche for much longer than he could possibly have endured. Ultimately, the affable Pete Morgan pays the highest price imaginable (not once but thrice!), leaving audiences to forever debate whether or not his previous deeds (or misdeeds) truly required such a lethal penance. Production details are exceptional throughout; and – if anything – director Daves could’ve gotten more with less as several scenes play out longer than necessary, with even a few sequences seeming mildly repetitive to the point of questioning whether or not they were necessary. Still, the sight of Edgar G. Robinson having lost his marbles likely unnerved watchers of the day and maybe ever since. That fact alone might be the greatest gift given by this noirish, backwoods potboiler.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Red House (1947) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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