Gothic Chills and Kid-Friendly Thrills: A Review of The House with a Clock in Its Walls

directed by Eli Roth
written by Eric Kripke

I'll be honest, I've never really been a "Potterhead." I was in my mid-20s when I read the first book in the Harry Potter series, and couldn't make it any further than the fifth book before I just decided to finish the saga through the movies instead.

That's not to say, however, that I grew up without my own preferred line of young adult books. Rather than the Hardy Boys books that kids my age favored, I preferred the gothic horror stories written by the late John Bellairs. There was something about them that resonated with me; of Bellairs' protagonists, I only read the adventures of Johnny Dixon and Anthony Monday, as opposed to those of Lewis Barnavelt, the protagonist of this film, but I appreciated the books just the same.

As I got older and found myself gravitating towards movies, I looked back with fondness on my Bellairs books and realized they'd be somewhat difficult to adapt given how the villains tended to stay in the shadows until the last minute and much of the conflict was internal to the lead character.

As a result, I was genuinely, and pleasantly surprised earlier this year to learn that not only was one of Bellairs' more popular books slated for adaptation, but that it would happen under the banner of a newly-reconstituted Amblin Films, or Steven Spielberg's company. I may not have read The House with the Clock in Its Walls, but the Bellairs factor was more than enough to get me to check it out, with my whole family in tow.

Following the tragic death of his parents, Lewis Barnavelt moves to New Zebedee, Michigan to live with his eccentric uncle Jonathan (Jack Black), who lives in a strange, magical house. Lewis meets Mrs. Florence Zimmerman (a sublime Cate Blancett), Jonathan's neighbor and longtime friend with whom his favorite pastime is playing cards and trading verbal barbs, and starts the awkward process of settling in at his new school, where he fortunately manages to befriend the popular kid Tarby (Sunny Suljic). Nervous at first because of strange things he sees at night in the house, Lewis discovers that his uncle and Florence are, in fact a warlock and a witch, and that the entire house itself is magical. Jonathan tells Lewis of a dark secret within the house: a mysterious clock placed by the previous owner, a wicked warlock named Isaac Izard (Kyle MacLachlan). What he doesn't mention, however, is the clock's terrifying purpose. Even as Jonathan and Florence teach Lewis how to wield magic, they spend the late hours trying to address an urgent, terrible threat. What they don't know is that as he sleeps, Lewis dreams of his mother (Lorenza Izzo) who constantly goads him into doing things he shouldn't do, including using magic to raise the dead. Lewis, wanting to keep his friendship with Tarby, does the unthinkable, and all hell breaks loose.

Now, even though I had never read this book, I recognized a lot of Bellairs' signature narrative devices: an orphan (Barnavelt was an orphan, while Johnny's Dixon's mother had died while his father was Missing in Action in Korea), a slightly off-kilter surrogate parent (Lewis lives with his Uncle Jonathan, while Johnny lived with his grandmother), and an older, somewhat batty friend (Lewis has Mrs. Zimmerman, while Johnny has Professor Roderick Childermass). Of course, none of this would have meant anything if the assembled cast and crew, shepherded by director Eli Roth (best known for his gorefests Hostel and The Green Inferno) and screenwriter Eric Kripke (creator of Supernatural) couldn't deliver a decent film. Fortunately for all of us Bellairs fans, it turns out that they could, and did.

Kripke compensates for the absence of a villain throughout most of the story by dropping clues throughout the narrative and slowly amplifying the menace lingering over the character, like the eerie calm before a storm. There's plenty of foreshadowing; I mean, when you have, as one of the major set pieces, a room full of creepy-looking automatons standing around, there's only one thing that can happen, right? Still, I imagine it was difficult adapting a Bellairs novel for the screen and it kind of shows; the dialogue is distinctly awkward at some points and I imagine more than a few liberties were taken because several of the characters don't quite speak with Bellairs' "voice."

Roth may have been a seemingly unorthodox choice for this kind of movie going in, but he successfully delivers scares without gore and manages to make a movie with heart (as opposed to all of the other exposed human organs from his other films). Notably, this movie was made on a very frugal budget (which would probably explain the constantly darkened set pieces, which are often a way of masking some visual effects cheats) and many of the effects were practical, which made the creepiness they evoked all the more impressive to see.

The main draw for me, though, apart from the Bellairs factor, was the cast. Jack Black was the sole reason I enjoyed the similarly-themed Goosebumps from three years ago, and the notion that he was revisiting this genre, especially since he seemed to bring more of his signature zaniness to this role, piqued my interest. When I saw Cate Blanchett in the trailer, however, I was absolutely sold. The two of them absolutely carry this movie, not just with their individual performances but with, dare I say it, a wonderful chemistry that isn't something as prosaic as romance, but rather something we don't often see in movies like this: two world-weary, middle-aged adult friends just glad for one another's company. Their every interaction plays into this dynamic from the good-natured bickering to the more serious moments in the film, particularly near the climax. I didn't much care for Owen Vaccaro's performance as Lewis Barnavelt; I've seen better child actors. Fortunately, though, I've also seen worse, so for the most part, I was able to live with him. At least he wasn't a Logan Lerman clone like the last lead in a kids' horror movie featuring Jack Black.

What I really had a hard time living with, though, was the consistently dark lighting throughout the film. I understand it served several purposes, like set the mood and obscure seams in the visual effects, but it did not make for a pleasant viewing experience. One can tell that the filmmakers made the best they could with the available budget, but it really is a bit rough around the edges.

All told, though, it was a pleasant enough surprise for me that this movie was even made at all, let alone at this standard of quality, rather than the shoddy, TV-movie level quality of the annoying Goosebumps adaptation, and given that this book (and the other Bellairs books) spawned several sequels over four (!) decades, I wouldn't be entirely dismissive of the notion of a "John Bellairs Cinematic Universe" that one writer floated. I'd even support it, if the quality of the films was like this, or better.

7/10