House (Hausu)

Some things are not for everyone, no matter how good they are. Take one of my favourite bands, Cardiacs, for example. Many folk would rather pour molten dog poo into their eyes than listen to the band's singular fusion of punk and progressive rock. The dislike goes so far that it is alleged they are banned from being mentioned in a leading music magazine, even if a band cite them as an influence. But for those that like them, Cardiacs' music is a thing of rare beauty - an uplifting series of experimental anthems that forge a path straight to the heart. The converted see them as way ahead of their time, a band proud to make music touched by both genius and insanity that is proud to stand alone in a landscape of mediocrity. They are, and always will be, something you either love or despise from the get go.

And so it is with the 1977 Japanese film House (Hausu). Director Nobuhiko Obayashi's experimental blending of phantasmagorical horror and screwball comedy is consistently deranged, shunning logic in favour of a fever dream series of events that play out like a warped fairytale. It comes as no surprise that the script was, at least in part, inspired by a story created by the director's young daughter. The unfolding events have a beautiful simplicity to them and are filled with moments of impossibility that could only come from a mind as yet unhindered by the rational demands of conventional storytelling.

House starts simply enough. A group of Japanese high school girls rejoice as they prepare to take a holiday. The sun shines and everything is wonderful. The leader of the group, Angel, visits her beloved father to make the final preparations to take the group to his holiday home. As her father introduces his new fiancée, Angel's love for her dad turns to such anger that she decides to take the group to her mysterious Aunt's house out in the countryside instead. Pausing only to scribble his face out of all her photos, the over-excited group head off on a psychedelic train ride into the unknown.

And it is literally the unknown - Angel has no idea where she's going, so it's lucky that a mysterious white cat shows up who seems to know the way. Soon the group find themselves in the sunlight-hating Aunt's home, ready to eat watermelons and act like giddy goats. Then all hell breaks loose. Girls start to vanish. Flying severed heads appear with an appetite for high school girl bottoms. People are eaten by pianos. Lampshades turn nasty. Pictures spew so much blood the house literally becomes flooded. It's like a giallo described by a lunatic.

In fact, there are many times when House feels like both a parody and a tribute to Suspiria. The repetitive music-box theme played out in a variety of beautiful and sinister styles (even at one point sung by a cat) recalls Goblin's sterling work, and many of the set-pieces feel like moments ripped straight from the best of Argento's brain cells - especially the scene with the figure trapped in the clock and the garish sequences where the girls huddle on a mat floating in a room filling with blood. It's amazing to discover this movie was actually made concurrently to Argento's great work.

This is a hugely playful movie, patching in subtle (and pretty damned obvious) references to cinema and literature from Yellow Submarine through to Alice In Wonderland. Even more interesting is how the film's influence can be felt by scenes and images that recall movies that had yet to be made. House creates layers of subconscious association in the viewer's head, only to subvert and warp any expectations you may have.

Despite a generally jovial tone, the director cleverly conveys that all is not well right from the start. Beautiful background music is twisted as a rival tune subliminally fades up beneath it. Sunlit vistas are revealed time and again to be nothing more than tromp l'oeil. Scenery is given a deliberate level of artifice showing that the happy images are just a construction covering a potentially darker truth. Despite all the light, sinister touches abound. But when the darkness comes, the horror is carefully tempered with humour. Images will move from absurd to creepy within moments of appearing on screen as the film ascends into a grand-guignol crescendo of light, sound, colour and flying limbs.

Perhaps some of the more comedic touches stretch the point too far. An early slapstick scene featuring a man sliding down stairs on his bottom feels like an outtake from a poor episode of The Goodies, as does an extraordinary scene near the end where a character transforms into a pile of bananas for very little reason other than they quite like them. By today's standards the special effects may occasionally look shonky, but this really adds to the charm and dreamlike nature of the movie. Everything in its place adds up to a quite amazing whole.

Eureka has put together an excellent package for this movie. Utilising what I understand to be the recent Toho approved transfer, the picture and sound are very impressive although the image is slightly dark and soft at times. Subtitles are good, translated colloquially rather than literally. Some may take issue with the fact that this has caused some character's names to be changed (Angel, for example, has been known as Gorgeous in other translations), but this has been done to convey the intent of meaning behind the Japanese words used as names. Backing this up is an impressive series of interviews with many involved in the production. These run to around 90 minutes - almost as long as the film - and cover everything from the initial concept through to the eventual (and unexpectedly successful) release before taking a look at the film's legacy. The DVD also comes with a booklet that wasn't included in the review copy, but judging by past Eureka releases will be well worth reading. This is almost as complete a set of extras as you could want, but there are a few omissions. For a film so packed with careful imagery and visual references, a scene specific commentary would be an enormous bonus, as would a glimpse at some of the director's previous experimental and commercial work. Rumours are that Criterion are putting together a Bluray and DVD of this film, so it'll be interesting to see what they come up with.

House is a great film, filled with groovy songs, stylistic flourishes and incessant insanity. Sure, some will prefer a more standard two-up, two-down, but those seeking something truly different will feel right at home here. This is easily my favourite release of the year so far.

Review by Paul Bird