Review: Hausu (1977)

As a film reviewer, my job is to break down all the parts of a film, from the cinematography, to the screenplay, to the special effects, and everything in between, and tell you specifically what worked, what didn't, and why. I like to think the job of a film is to try to be as solid as possible in every regard, in an attempt to win over the critics, and the viewing audience.

But every so often, there comes along a film like Hausu, a film so absolutely insane, a film that so blatantly regards the "rules" that, as a movie, it is "supposed" to follow, that all the words in the world could not aptly prepare anyone for what they are about to witness. Part of me is thankful there are not many films like this in the world of cinema, for they would render the critic obsolete; the other half (or perhaps three-quarters, or perhaps eighty percent) would gladly trade my measly hobby simply for the joys of basking in a marathon of such films, in which creativity is rewarded over marketability and repetition.

This is a movie in which its "plot" does not really matter. In fact, come to think of it, not much at all matters in Hausu; it feels like it was written by a third-grader over a span of a day with no rewrites possible, and it feels like it was directed by that same third-graders' hyperactive father (it was, in fact, based on the eccentric musings of the director's eleven-year-old daughter, so there is actually some truth in my original statement). I do not pretend to know exactly what director Nobuhiko Obayashi was trying to accomplish here, nor do I care, because what ensues is an exhausting, headache-inducing mix that features just about every conceivable cinematic transition and photographic effect, even though they aren't in the least bit necessary.

At its core, Hausu is essentially a haunted house film, with a group of six children lead by Oshare, who travels to her aunt's creepy, secluded house, even though she has not even contacted her aunt in years. Each of the characters' has a "special characteristic", so to speak: Mac has an unending appetite; Melody is a musician; Fantasy is prone to constant daydreams; Sweetie is known for her kindness, and I'll give you one guess what Kung Fu excels in. What do each of these traits mean? Save for Kung Fu, who uses her ability quite frequently to try to get the group out of trouble, not much at all. Anyway, one-by-one the girls are getting picked off by something in the house...or is it the house itself? Now it's a race against time to find a way out before it's too late for all of them!

Though the story itself is boundlessly clichéd and more than predictable, it is the ferocity and imagination with which it is staged that turns this from just another horror movie to something that truly must be seen to believed. Effects are pulled off using a mix of live action, matte paintings, and animation (both stop motion and traditional), and while these effects could be dismissed as being "too '80s", that would only go one step farther in describing the film's brilliance: It was made in 1977. The soundtrack never matches the action going on screen, the dialogue is often terrible, sound effects are greatly exaggerated...all these things, which often mean the death of a particular film, only somehow stand to strengthen Hausu. It's like watching a train crash into a circus; not only can you not take your eyes off of it, but it's somehow hard not to laugh.

Of course, such a film can only be so good, and even on its own flimsy merits, it is by far a perfect film. For starters, so many ideas can only go so far, and Hausu runs out of steam long before it's over. Even at its scant 88 minute runtime, it still goes on a little bit too long. Maybe if it had something to say, or threw in a twist or two along the way, it would make the trip a little more worthwhile, but since it's headed nowhere from the first frame, it starts to grate a little on the nerves.

But Hausu is unlike anything I've ever seen before, and it is not very often I get the chance to say that. It switches genres and styles without regard to logic or comprehensibility, and crams in more ideas in thirty minutes than most films do in their entire inflated running times. It is a classic example of "style over substance"; in fact, it's the very definition of that overused phrase, as it is ALL style and zero substance. However, those are the grounds on which the film was conceived, and it must be reviewed within that mindset. And as a visual smorgasbord of outright lunacy, Hausu delivers in spades.

It may not have a lot to say, but it has a lot of fun babbling incoherently; and that fun, for the most part, is contagious.

Rating: * * * (out of 4)