So I finally had the opportunity to watch a movie that I've heard of forever but never seemed to stumble upon. The 1959 version of The House on Haunted Hill. My hopes were high. And my black & white, B-movie horror heart beat a little faster as the film opened to screams and disembodied heads warning of the untold terror that awaited anyone brave enough to attempt a night in this house.
And I'll admit, all of my favourite elements were there: creepy old house, sinister host, more sinister servants, dark and stormy night, ghostly apparitions, a gathering of guests with "secrets" to reveal. And at first, it seemed promising. Several people invited to spend the night locked in a house with a reward paid to whomever survived until morning. One of the guests had lived through the experience before (not sure why he returned) and warned of the unimaginable horrors that lie ahead. There was blood dripping from the ceiling and a severed head found in in a box . . .
And then, nothing.
Nothing other than an elaborate and improbable scheme by the couple who lived in the house to each be rid of the other.
No "secrets" were revealed by the remaining characters and the house wasn't actually haunted, despite the ramblings of the previous guest. It would have been a complete disappointment. If not for the talking skeleton.