Predictability reigns supreme in House at the End of the Street, a horror-thriller that leans heavily into tired clichés and inadvertently generates more unintentional humor than genuine scares. This film, which centers around a mysterious Home At The End Of The Street, struggles to find its footing, ultimately failing to deliver either horror or thrills effectively. Its muddled narrative and reliance on genre conventions prevent it from becoming a worthwhile entry in either category.
From the outset, the title itself, House at the End of the Street, evokes a sense of déjà vu, hinting at a self-aware approach, perhaps akin to post-Scream deconstructions of the genre like The Cabin in the Woods. One might expect director Mark Tonderai to playfully acknowledge and subvert horror tropes. However, despite a few moments that elicit amusement precisely because of their clichés (and presumably not by design), Tonderai’s direction takes itself far too seriously, making it difficult for the audience to invest in the intended suspense.
The premise of this PG-13 rated movie is straightforward. A divorced mother, Sarah (Elisabeth Shue), a former rock groupie, relocates with her teenage daughter Elissa (Jennifer Lawrence) from the bustling city of Chicago to a seemingly tranquil, wooded community, possibly in Pennsylvania. The allure of the new home is its affordability – unsurprisingly, given its proximity to a house where a gruesome family tragedy unfolded four years prior. In a plot point that strains credulity, the previous residents were murdered by their own daughter. While the title House at the End of the Street might suggest a supernatural element, haunted walls, or demonic entities lurking beneath the floorboards, the film steers clear of such themes. Instead, the primary source of unease is the surviving son from the ill-fated family, Ryan (Max Thieriot).
Max Thieriot embodies the quiet and unsettling neighbor, Ryan, in House at the End of the Street.
Elissa, characterized as an edgy teenager who plays guitar, predictably finds herself drawn to Ryan’s enigmatic and brooding persona. In a well-worn trope of teenage rebellion and questionable decision-making, she disregards her mother’s concerns and initiates a connection with the reclusive Ryan, who harbors his own set of peculiar family issues. Unsurprisingly, this decision proves unwise. The narrative hints at Ryan concealing his (supposedly deceased) sister in the basement, leading Elissa down a path of discovery where she gradually realizes that Ryan might not be the ideal companion she initially perceived.
Despite the film’s shortcomings, House at the End of the Street does offer one compelling reason to watch: Jennifer Lawrence. While there are further plot developments, revealing them risks divulging spoilers or belaboring the obvious. Suffice it to say that events take a turn for the worse, culminating in a plot twist that bears a striking resemblance to that of a classic film, before reaching its conclusion.
To be fair, House at the End of the Street is not entirely devoid of entertainment value. It manages to deliver a few genuine jump scares and some marginally unexpected plot turns. However, these fleeting moments of effectiveness are overshadowed by the pervasive predictability of characters like the stereotypical Bumbling Cop (Gil Bellows) and scenarios that prompt unintentional audience reactions, such as yelling at the screen, “Why would you ever go into the creepy basement of the Murder House?” Adding to the film’s anachronistic feel are details like Elissa’s apparent MySpace page, coupled with her use of an iPhone 3G and an iPad, creating a confusing sense of time. In the end, House at the End of the Street struggles to justify its existence within the horror-thriller genre, offering little beyond recycled tropes and unintentional laughs.
