** (out of ****)
Starring Tony Shalhoub, Shannon Elizabeth, F. Murray Abraham, Matthew Lillard, and Embeth Davidtz.
Directed by Steve Beck & written by Robb White
2002 R
“Thirteen Ghosts” could have used another re-edit or another draft or something and made itself into a passably entertaining horror film. There are some interesting supernatural bits floating around in it having to do with capturing ghosts, and the spooky house where it all takes place is a pretty effective piece of art direction. But the bulk of the movie is a group of scared people trapped in a big house, yelling at each other to alternately run or shut up or, dumbest of all, split up, and coming over and over again into frenzies with the same ghouls. This is basically the same premise as the superior “Night of the Living Dead” (1964) and “Aliens” (1986), but while those films had sympathetic characters, genuine fright, and clever direction, “Thirteen Ghosts” is simply noisy.
The title characters of “Thirteen Ghosts” include twelve angry spirits that have been caught in magic cages by an Evil Millionaire (Jesus Christ it’s F. Murray Abraham, Oscar-winner for “Amadeus”). He wants to harness their spirits to power a machine that can see the future. At least, I think that’s what was going on. Most of these points were conveyed by people shouting very fast while ghoulish voices played backwards, the film editor went nuts, and loud but strangely unmemorable music went on in the background. The Evil Millionaire dies in pursuit of his last spirit and leaves his big spooky house to his nephew (Tony Shalhoub) who brings his family and nanny along only to find himself being assailed by the twelve ghouls. They have a nanny because his wife died in a fire that also left his family financially crippled. As for the identity of the thirteenth ghost—well, let’s leave that as a mystery. Along the way a pair of ghost hunters (Embeth Davidtz and Matthew Lillard) show up with spells and psychic powers and what-not, including goggles that allow them to see the ghosts.
Farfetched as this all might sound, the fault of “Thirteen Ghosts” isn’t in the premise, or in all the various loose-ends that crop up along the way (for example, how do you make glasses that can see the dead? Where do you get ghost-catching boxes? Who can afford a nanny but not homeowner’s insurance? What’s F. Murray Abraham doing in this?). “Ghostbusters” used a similar premise with just as many loopholes to become one of the funniest movies of the 1980s. But director Steve Beck and his various writers seem to know more about making music videos than horror movies. The plot points are submerged in chase scenes that aren’t scary and special effects sequences that, while technically impressive, aren’t scary either. Beck’s directorial style is simply too jumpy, too noisy. The key rule to suspense isn’t seeing the monster jump out—and there’s plenty of that in “Thirteen Ghosts”—but in knowing the monster is somewhere and then waiting for it to appear. The moments of the monster’s absence should be used to build tension, and Beck’s endless cutting, music, and noise when the monster isn’t around dilutes that tension, and the clumsiness with which he handles the monster’s presence doesn’t help either. The best I can do without resorting to a shot-by-shot analysis of “Thirteen Ghosts” is to compare it with films that succeed where it fails. Think of that first hour of “Jaws” (1975) in which we catch only glimpses of the shark; think of those long, ominous takes in “The Shining” (1980) in which a ball rolls from a supposedly-deserted hallway; or think of the hour during “Aliens” in which the sleep-deprived marines, within their barricade, are forced to listen to the beasts lurking outside. Most modern special effects movies are unwilling, no matter what the cost to story or suspense or pacing, to let the audience leave without seeing their creations in complete, autopsy-style detail.
There are only about two really-competently composed shots in “Thirteen Ghosts,” one involving a shadowy figure way down a hallway, and the other cleverly done when, at a key moment, a character takes his goggles off.
“Thirteen Ghosts” is not without some charm. The haunted house is a glass maze of shifting walls and demonic clockwork. The make-up artists had a fun day with the twelve ghouls and the DVD has clever little stories to go with each of them. The cast does a decent job with what they’ve been given, which are basically archetypes that can be capitalized, like Evil Millionaire, Devoted Father, Wisecracking Ethnic Sidekick, Vacuous Teenage Daughter, et cetera. Matthew Lillard is at least memorable, although possibly in a bad way, as a goofily unconvincing psychic ghost hunter, who acts like he’s making fun of Bill Paxton from “Aliens.” The cast is mostly adrift in sequences that don’t know if they’re funny, scary, or scary tongue-in-cheek. The entire film suffers from a similar lack of focus. Hitchcock could probably jiggle his chins and make something out of this material. But he’s just a ghost.
WHAT MY DAMN WIFE THINKS (try to imagine her doing something useful, like repaving the driveway, while I’m poking away at my laptop): “This wasn’t a BAD movie, it just completely failed to engage my interest at any point. I was never scared because I just couldn’t bring myself to care. Two stars.”
Copyright 2002 Friday & Saturday Night