Directed by Osgood Perkins, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House is possibly the worst horror film ever released and one you should definitely avoid in the fall season. Its somewhat appealing cover and eerie premise lead viewers to believe this may be the beginning of something amazing, only to meet disappointment. If you are someone looking for a film that will keep you on the edge of your seat, look elsewhere.

Throughout the entire one hour twenty-seven minute duration of its showing, not once did I find myself dreading what was to come next because nothing was coming. There were two “memorable” jumpscares in total, which would not be an issue at all if it had other aspects to make up for this fact. There are so many other elements, besides jumpscares, that create an amazing horror movie. This movie, somehow, possesses little to none. Other than the crucial atmospheric circumstances and sounds that contribute greatly to this film, the most that occurs in this film is a whole lot of nothing. 

I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives in the House begins with the introduction of our main character, Lily, a hospice nurse taking care of elderly Iris Blum who has dementia. Throughout her stay at Blum’s home, she is supposedly tormented by Blum’s supernatural past. This haunting is represented by mold growth throughout the home, as well as weird plasma appearances, and finally, at the end of the film, Lily is so frightened by a ghostly apparition that she dies of a heart attack following Blum’s death. 

A lot of what I know of the film required outside research as the movie itself attempts to showcase everything through symbolism and whispering. The climax, which happened to be the end, is not worth a 90-minute watch to get to. While it attempts to build a sense of dread in its viewers, it isn’t very dreadful at all. The end is quite sudden and all of its “buildup” was wasted on a rapid end.