New Yorker Cathy is haunted by visions of her murderous mother and a mysterious little girl. Good thing she has photographer Bob as an anchor. But for how long, given her horrific delusions.
The logic of this horror flick appears to be that if a spoonful is good, then a truck full has to be better. But it's not. The piling on of scenes, themes, and effects soon gets tedious. That is, how many kissy-faces do we need to show that Cathy loves Bob, or that Cathy is full of delusions if that they be, or that darkness can be dangerous. Too bad, because the basic idea of a hell-house has potential.
With a tighter script and more strategic use of effects, there's a good movie core lurking within. As it is, the producers appear unable to deal effectively with structure, and that includes color photography for its own sake. Now, I'm not up on post-70's horror films. But if you want to check out how similar material can be effectively done, check out Val Lewton's 1943 classic The Seventh Victim. That tight little B-film also shows why audience imagination is horror's most powerful source. And that's especially important given today's overpowering appeal of special effects.
