To attempt a film shot in
entirely one single take, a feature length one, is an impressive task.
Alexander Sokurov when making
Russian Ark (2002), the famous film for
doing this, had to do a second take in making the film and start at the
beginning of a back breaking piece of labour for everyone on and behind the
camera involved. Even something as small as the original version of
The Silent House, with only a couple of
actors and a single location, must have been a difficult task that should at
least be praised for undertaking the goal. Even if invisible cuts were made, as
the guy at the till I bought a copy of this film from told me to hunt out for,
whether they're there or not having never checked for them, it is still
applaudable how the making of the film was done. Set at a house of a man who
wants to sell it, his brother and niece go to clean it up for resell only for it to
be obvious that there is something wrong with inside the building. The whole
process of a single, continually moving camera that never cuts to a new scene
does have a tremendous effect. The advantage the film has is that it never
falls over when it comes to this potential gimmick - the only time the camera
shakes is when the cameraman clearly has to catch up to someone who is running.
It creates an immense amount of tension as the female protagonist is moving hesitantly
around the lightless rooms of the house; at first you concentrate on the fact
that the camera is still rolling, an edit to a new shot as one expects to
happen, from growing up with the rule that all films should do this, not
happening, but eventually it sucks you into a mood that is intense. It's a
lesson I learnt, and other people found, if they ever came attuned to Hungarian
director
Bela Tarr. The small scale
of the film, its subtlety, is emphasised by how it prefers small shocks and
moments of creepiness for most of its length. It feels that for three quarters
of its length,
The Silent House will
succeed...
...then it trips before the
finishing line and does so in such immense gruesomeness that it splits its
skull open and spills brain matter on said line. I have seen this film twice
now in quick succession to each viewing, spectacular for me since I am not fond
of viewing something again unless even up to a year's gap has passed, because
its final twist is so abrupt that I had to see if it made any sense in the
context of the rest of the film beforehand. It is set up, but it's an example
desiring an extra twist to get the viewer on their toes that sabotages the
entire film, a pointless addition of drama when the supernatural edge should
have been enough, and was effective, for earlier. Even with the virtues of the
film before the twist, the structure of the movie means the ending ruins its
whole. Even if it's clearly set up early, even if the film claims to be based
on a true story, its presentation feels as if they weren't confident with the
material and tacked in an ending turn that feels like a desperate, cheap grab
for attention. No matter how well done a work it is,
The Silent House is very much a film that stands and falls on said
end, and it botches the entirety of it in a way that is despairing in the
squandered failure. The result cannot be done in a second take now like that
filming process could have done, and you're stuck with it.
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