Art Deco, Ghosts and Theatrics
“From here on, it gets really scary!”
That’s the immortal Geoffrey Rush as Stephen Price, channelling Vincent Price (in spirit and surname), in William Malone’s House on Haunted Hill (1999). This film is one of those rare late-90s horror gems that somehow manages to be campy, grotesque, and genuinely creepy all at once.
It’s also a textbook example of how to nail a remake—taking the skeleton of William Castle’s 1959 original and fleshing it out with late-90s flair. By flair, I mean some gloriously over-the-top performances, early CGI that’s weirdly effective in its own way, and a storyline that takes itself just seriously enough.
Rush is magnetic as Stephen Price, a theme park tycoon with a flair for theatrics (a little on the nose, but I’ll allow it). Watching him scheme, smirk, and deliver his sinister lines is worth the price of admission alone. Then you’ve got Famke Janssen bringing her best femme fatale energy as Price’s duplicitous wife. The rest of the cast rounds things out nicely—Taye Diggs, Ali Larter, Bridgette Wilson, Peter Gallagher—all trapped in a house that’s actively trying to kill them.
And then there’s the house itself. The art deco hellscape oozes personality, with its labyrinthine halls, grotesque décor, and malevolent energy that practically seeps through the screen. William Malone clearly had fun bringing this sinister mansion to life, pulling no punches when it came to eerie atmosphere and well-timed jump scares.
Sure, it leans into its cheese factor—this is 1999, after all—but there’s a sincerity to its madness that makes it endlessly rewatchable. The ending might leave you scratching your head, but isn’t that half the fun?
For my money, House on Haunted Hill is one of the last great horror movies of the 20th century. If you haven’t experienced it yet, grab some popcorn, turn off the lights, and prepare for a ride.