Movie Review: The Beach House (2019)

July 6, 2020

Written by DanXIII

Daniel XIII; the result of an arcane ritual involving a King Diamond album, a box of Count Chocula, and a copy of Swank magazine, is a screenwriter, director, producer, actor, artist, and reviewer of fright flicks…Who hates ya baby?

Emily and Randall, two outrageously attractive young people (portrayed by Liana Liberato and Noah Le Gros respectively) flee ye olde rat race to vacay at a beach house owned by Randall’s kith and kin. Sound relaxin’ amirite cats n’ creeps?

Well it ain’t, because another couple, Jane (Maryanne Nagel) and Mitch (Jake Weber), have parked their asses there as well. Despite their gaps in age, the two couples shoot the shit, ingest some edibles… just normal gettin’ to know ya bullshit.

Speaking of normal, nearly every event that happens after that point is decidedly not that thing, as a mysterious fog envelopes the island bringing with it rapidly mutating sea life, alien pods, and some good ol’ body horror; as those that breathe deep on the island begin to undergo unearthly transformations!

The Beach House could best be described as Cronenberg by way of Lovecraft, but with a faux modern coat of paint. Now, let’s focus on that “faux” part for a sec, shall we? While set in the modern day, the visual aesthetic of this fright flick reeks of 1970’s beach decor; think earth-tones and ultramarine, mixed with hotter coral, but all saturated to induce something both nostalgic and uncomfortable.

Of course a lot of the unease here stems from both the intentionally dreamy performances from it’s leads, as well as the slow burn pace that writer/director Jeffrey A. Brown sets for this film… which makes the affair a fever-dream, psychotronic winner!

The Beach House doesn’t just succeed by ambiance alone as it is also full of all manner of bizarre and stomach churning practical effects, and unique creatures (designed by Paul Rice) that will surely satisfy monster-lovin’ horror hounds!

To sum it all up; if you like gooey-creatures, general unease, and deliberately paced tension (kinda like my wicked wedding night, eh boils n’ ghouls?); then The Beach House is the putrid picture for you!



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