Ghosthouse aka La Casa 3: Ghosthouse (1988) written and directed by Umberto Lenzi

During a lifetime of film viewing, I have made it a habit to always finish a movie. I’ve only walked out of two films (A FINE MESS and REVENGE OF THE NERDS 2) and have spent countless nights going back and finishing flicks that have repeatedly put me to sleep out of some strange sense of “journalistic integrity” (I’m looking at you, HOUR OF THE ASSASSIN starring Eric Estrada).

So, it struck me odd that when I flipped on Umberto Lenzi’s GHOSTHOUSE (directed under the pseudonym Humphrey Humbert), I had the sneaking suspicion that I’d seen it before. The opening scenes of doll-inspired violence, the dorky ham radio operator hearing strange pleading and screams … it all seemed familiar. 

But as the film progressed—and reached a moment where someone freaks out because there’s a decapitated head tumbling around a clothes dryer—I decided that I must have visited GHOSTHOUSE and never returned. Because I know one thing about me—I would have definitely finished a movie with a head in a dryer.

Unfortunately, what follows is a pretty pedestrian, late 80s Italian horror film that tries to ape the haunting stylishness of Dario Argento while also attempting to paint the screen read ala Lucio Fulci. Alas, you can’t have it both ways.

Paul and his girlfriend Martha (who resembles a pretty version of Maggie Gyllenhall) hear the aforementioned pleading and screams and decide to investigate. They eventually arrive at the infamous Baker house, where the film’s tragic opening scenes occurred. There they meet up with fellow ham radio dork Jim, his siblings Tina and Mark, and Susan, Mark’s girlfriend. Mayhem ensues when Jim gets killed by a possessed fan (echoing the sounds heard over the radio by Paul and Martha) and Tina is attacked by creepy caretaker Valkos.

Eventually, the two groups split up, with Paul and Martha investigating the home’s history while Tina, Mark and Susan stick around the house where they encounter demon dogs, possessed campers, faucets that flow with blood, and a basement pit filled with skulls and deadly goo.

It’s all pretty stupid and confusing, but the music by Piero Montanari and a fast-paced last half-hour make up for the slog of the first hour. — Dan Taylor