My review was written in February 1984 after a screening at 42nd St. Times Square theater.
"The House Where Death Lives" is a painfully slow-paced and old-fashioned gothic horror film, made in 1980 and originally titled "Delusion". Once-planned for release by the since-defunct The International Picture Show Co., picture has had territorial release over the past two years via Gotham-based New American Films as well as pay-tv exposure, ahead of its current Manhattan debut.
Trite tale unfolds in flashback (bookended by the heroine writing this story to her dad), concerning a young man, introverted nurse Meredith (Patricia Pearcy) arriving at a mansion to take care of crippled Ivar Langrock (Joseph Cotten). Another newcomer to the Fairlawn estate is Gabriel (John Dukakis), Langrock's suspicious-looking 16-year-old grandson who has been living in a commune.
Overly expository opening reels introduce (with a straight face) many cliches of the gothic format: a face seen at an upstairs window of a room that is always kept locked, a heroine prone to wandering inquisitively about the house and grounds, etc. One b one, cast members are dispatched by a sudden bonk on the head from a blunt instrument (it turns out to be a leg from a table) until the final reel reveals who the crazy is. Wedged into the package for the umpteenth time is a case of incest as a long-ago incident and plot motivator.
Director Alan Beattie fails to generate suspense or atmosphere in a picture that remains low-key even during violent scenes. Acting is more than competent, with red-headed, fair-complexioned Patricia Pearcy making a distinctive impression in the rather limited central role and Cotten (in his most recent screen appearance) thoroughly professional in support. Despite its release title linking the film with the overworked "blame it on the house" horror genre, pic's locale is neutrally plain and there are no supernatural overtones.
