Haunt (2019) Review

If there’s one thing Haunt proves, it’s that sometimes the simplest premises deliver the most spine-chilling results. Directed by A Quiet Place writers Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, this easiy over-looked 2019 horror gem takes the familiar concept of a haunted house and turns it into a blood-soaked exercise in terror, one that plays as much on the fears within as it does on physical dangers lurking around every corner.

Katie Stevens stars as Harper, a college student whose Halloween night starts with an effort to escape her toxic relationship and ends up with a trip through the bowels of one of horror’s most extreme haunted houses. Coaxed into joining her friends on a detour from the usual revelries, Harper, her roommate Bailey (Lauryn Alisa McClain), and four other friends take their chances at a remote haunt. Lured in by a disturbingly silent clown masked attendant who insists on collecting their phones and signatures on a waiver, they’re drawn into a journey where terror ratchets up with each room.

At first, Haunt is deceptive in its pacing. Beck and Woods know precisely how to build dread without giving away too much too soon. It’s all slightly absurd, the cheerfully creepy signs, the maze marked by “safe” and “not safe” paths. But soon enough, it’s clear that this isn’t just a carnival fright. The directors push us down corridors drenched in claustrophobia and neon lights, building tension as the group encounters masked figures in classic exaggerated guises – the clown, the devil, the ghost – all part of an ominous performance. Yet, the audience is always one step ahead of the characters, sensing that these killers are playing with real stakes.

In Harper, Haunt gives us a protagonist with some grit. Far from the classic horror “final girl” archetype, Harper’s journey becomes less about escaping a haunted house and more about confronting the abusive relationships that have haunted her past. The setup for her character is straightforward, perhaps a little over-used but is still meaningful: her bruised emotional history gives her a reluctant strength that is tested and galvanised as the film progresses. There’s something satisfyingly cathartic about watching Harper turn her latent rage on the killers, reclaiming her strength with each encounter. There’s an uncomfortable familiarity in the way she hides, evades, and ultimately confronts the masked murderers, suggesting that her inner demons are just as tangible as the real ones stalking her through this twisted labyrinth.

The success of Haunt lies largely in the atmosphere. Cinematographer Ryan Samul captures an eerie intensity in each shot, shifting from wide shots of disorienting rooms to jarring close-ups that amplify the fear. The set design is equally haunting; from caged rooms to narrow coffins, it’s a funhouse of terror that feels grimy, immersive, and unsettlingly lifelike. The world here feels less like a horror film set and more like a place that could actually exist, which makes the scares feel sharper. Best of all, it feels like Haunt is a film that manages to achieve a lot with limited resources – a small cast, limited location and a good level of entertainment.

Then there’s the villains of the piece, the masked terrors who wear their costumes and torment the unforunate visitors to the attraction. After spending much of the film wondering who is behind the depravity, Beck and Woods ask the killers to reveal their “true” faces partway through, exposing monstrous features altered to reflect their respective masks: a clown, devil, witch, and so on. The idea that these people have transformed their bodies to align with their chosen personas taps into an unsettling human darkness. And this revelation, this grotesque self-mutilation, brings an additional layer of horror to the film.

Where Haunt might falter for some viewers is in its straightforwardness. There’s nothing inherently surprising about the plot; from the moment they enter the haunted house, it’s obvious that most of the characters won’t make it out alive. But to critique the predictability misses the point – this isn’t a film about twists. It’s a film about atmosphere, tension, and the dread of knowing exactly what’s coming but feeling helpless to stop it. Each scream, each gory kill feels well-earned, even in its brutality.

Despite its straightforward story, Haunt doesn’t let up on its relentless pace, nor does it flinch from the harshness of its violence. But this violence serves a purpose, tied as it is to the primal fear of being hunted. There are echoes of classic slasher films, and fans of gritty, relentless horror will find plenty to admire here. Beck and Woods have crafted an experience that asks little more from the viewer than to sit back and be scared, but they do so with a deft hand that keeps the terror from becoming numbingly repetitive.

Haunt is an effective horror showpiece, and a reminder that simplicity in horror can pack a mighty punch. It’s a twisted watch that revels in the dreadful inevitability of human monsters wearing masks – literal and otherwise. For those of you desperately seeking some fresh Halloween-themed horror, Haunt proves to be a lean, mean, chilling treat.

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Haunt trailer