[CFF 2020 Review] The Beach House is a Horrifying Masterpiece of Quiet Terror

Movies like The Beach House make me giddy. Finding that one horror film with the unassuming title that turns out to not only make you scream but also make you fearful of your own body…well, it doesn’t come around very often. But when it does, I just want to scream about it from the top of my lungs. 

But that could just be the adrenaline talking.

Emily (Liana Liberato) and Randall (Noah Le Gros) are two college sweethearts in a very rocky patch of their relationship. In order to somehow salvage their relationship, Randall takes Emily to his father’s beach house during the off-season. They’ll have the beach and the small neighborhood all to themselves. It’ll be a perfect opportunity to talk about their future…which has been on both of their minds since they seem to be heading in different directions.

You see, Randall recently quit school because, in his words, “It’s like...what am I learning? What’s the point of education?” There has to be more, he thinks. And so he’s shrugged off his college studies to figure himself out. Which is fine and all, but he’s also a brick for the career-minded Emily they’re drowning slowly. Because Emily has educational plans and goals. She’s finishing up her degree in Organic Chemistry with plans to continue doctorate work in Astrobiology. 

They’re at two different places and cracks are visibly forming in their relationship. Compounding matters is that when Emily explores the house, she notices telltale signs that someone is also there with them. A medicine cabinet filled with Oxycodone and other powerful medications. In the kitchen, a skillet with leftover eggs congealing in the sink. And when the glass doors slide open, Emily realizes they aren’t the only couple who decided they needed a vacation.

Our young couple quickly meet older couple Jane (Maryanne Nagel) and Mitch (Jake Weber), friends of Randall’s father, who also asked to stay at the beach house. Emily is understandably upset, but it goes deeper than unexpected guests. “I thought we were good and then you leave school. You leave me. No calls. Some cryptic emails. And now we’re back at it again as if nothing’s changed,” she tells him. “We could have gone anywhere!” Even before the genre trappings are introduced, the domestic tension sets a painfully uncomfortable first act.

Emily does try to make the most of it and finds herself eagerly discussing Astrobiology with Jane and Mitch. While Mitch jokes about it all going over his head, Jane looks at Emily with an appreciative and knowing smile. “Life is so fragile,” Emily says and Jane understands completely because she’s at the end of her life and she’s obviously fighting some disease or medical condition. She understands the fragility of life more than these two young kids could know and there’s a subtle sadness Maryanne Nagel brings to the role that suggests she understands the pain and frustration Emily feels towards Randall.  

When the wine dries up, Randall brings out the edibles and as the drugs start to take effect, the two couples stand outside, watching an almost bluish fog roll in from the sea, coating things in a black light-esqe blue glow. Stoned and wanting a closer look, Jane walks out into the fog while Randall passes out, hand down his pants, on the ground and Emily starts feeling off. The last thing she sees are sunspots before she passes out. 

From here, the narrative by writer/director Jeffrey A. Brown really kicks into gear. Mostly contained to the beach and the house, The Beach House showcases what can be accomplished with a fantastic cast, a great script and only hints of monstrous malice. 

The first act balances two couples at completely different stages of their lives and relationships with that uncertain feeling that something isn’t quite right. Between Emily and Randall’s verbal sparring and the unwanted guests, there’s already a palpable tension that’s only increased by another uninvited guest. It’s the little moments, like post-edible Mitch standing in front of the sink, letting the water pour over his hands while mumbling how soft the water is. Or the way the fog slowly rolls in, a patient and unending malevolence. Or even the odd slug-like creature dying on the porch that Emily stares at, quietly considering, as she takes a drag from her cigarette. 

And like the encroaching fog, Brown’s script continuously churns along, spilling out its mysteries and horrors with such perfect pacing that once things go bad (And boy do they go bad), it never lets up. What’s so skillful is the use of practical effects. Obviously operating on a modest budget, the effects are minimally used. Jeffrey A. Brown knows when to use the limited effects to their fullest and there are some visual moments that had me squirming in my seat. It’s a cliche to say that “it’s what you don’t see that’s scary,” but it’s a cliche because it’s true. And here, by using just a glimpse of something or the way something moves was enough to fill in the horrific and inescapable truth of what was happening.

Reader, I screamed.

But it also shows enough and the way the camera would linger on moments like this built such a tense and uneasy feeling in my stomach…which only exacerbated my unpleasantness. So yes, there’s a particular skin crawling effect and image that won’t leave my mind (and makes me reconsider walking around barefoot), but the tension comes from paranoia and the understanding that things not only aren’t right but they’re getting worse by the minute.

The feeling of paranoia creeps in, as implacable as the fog slowly wafting from the ocean. It’s a fear that feels more relevant now as I’m typing this three months into a quarantine. This is a film that, once it starts, just continues to get progressively more intense as the narrative twists and churns and never stops.

The Beach House is a constantly encroaching nightmare that gleefully finds new ways to upset and terrify through its very brisk and impeccably paced 88 minutes. Unforgiving in the way it toys with and terrorizes our two couples, it’s quickly becoming one of my favorite horror films of the year. 

Don’t miss this.