Disney really needs to stop trying to transform this theme park attraction into anything resembling a coherent film.
The best that can be said about this second effort, is that it’s not quite as dreadful as its 2003 predecessor … but that’s damning with very faint praise.
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| Our reluctant heroes — from left, Harriet (Tiffany Haddish), Ben (LaKeith Stanfield), Gabbie (Rosario Dawson) and Bruce (Danny DeVito) — have just discovered a trunk in the mansion attic, which contains a book of incantations that'll prove useful. |
Indeed, one of the 2003 film’s major problems is equally true here, and the relevant paragraph from my two-decades-gone review can be repeated verbatim, updating only the name of the guilty party:
Rather than imaginatively spinning a wholly original yarn, Dippold instead includes everything from the namesake theme park attraction, while trying to cobble up a story after the fact: the ghostly hitchhikers, the dancing ballroom ghosts, the graveyard specters mixing it up with each other, the busts that watch as somebody turns a corner, the paintings that turn skeletal with a burst of lightning, and pretty much everything else.
The result isn’t anything approaching an actual story; it’s merely a two-hour commercial for Disneyland. Judging by the dreary manner in which Simien orchestrates this mess, and the lackluster performances by the entire cast, nobody even tried to turn this sow’s ear into a silk purse.
Needless to say, this is no way to make a movie.
The story, such as it is:
Single mom Gabbie (Rosario Dawson) and her 9-year-old son Travis (Chase Dillon), looking to make a fresh start, move to New Orleans and purchase an oddly affordable antebellum-style spread on the bayou, just outside the city. They don’t even make it through the first night, thanks to an unexpectedly ambulatory suit of armor.
“And … we’re out,” Gabbie quite reasonably says, with Travis right behind her.
Ah, but this mansion’s 999 ghosts don’t want them to leave. No matter where Gabbie and Travis go — hotel, B&B, whatever — they’re pursued by haints that emerge each evening, demanding their return. Which, eventually, they reluctantly do.
Elsewhere, former astrophysicist Ben (LaKeith Stanfield), grieving the sudden death of his wife, has become a shadow of his former self: reduced to cynically leading walking “ghost tours” of the city. He’s approached one day by Father Kent (Owen Wilson), a priest who specializes in exorcisms, and who somehow knows that — back in his research days — Ben developed a camera capable of photographing ghosts.
Turns out Father Kent was Gabbie’s first attempt at a solution; alas, once the priest crossed the mansion threshold, he became similarly “trapped” … a fate that also befalls Ben, once he enters.
Their little group soon expands to include Harriet (Tiffany Haddish), a French Quarter psychic/medium who does readings at bar mitzvahs; and Bruce (Danny DeVito), a Tulane University professor proficient in New Orleans’ haunted history.
Most of these characters are no more than one-dimensional stick figures. Dippold doesn’t even try to give them depth, relatable personality traits or — aside from Ben — anything approaching a back-story. They’re simply present for wide-eyed double-takes, and to flee from the mansion’s spectral inhabitants, while occasionally trying to figure out What It’s All About.
There’s a major difference between actors actually inhabiting a role, and people simply spouting lines without any attempt at dramatic conviction. This film has the bland, lifeless atmosphere of a cold script reading. That’s particularly true of Wilson, DeVito and Haddish, who are nothing more than goofy burlesques.
On the other hand, young Dillon does a fine job as the shy, quiet Travis, who — more than anything else — just wants to make friends. Dillon conveys more depth with his silences, than his older co-stars manage with their inane dialogue.
Details gradually emerge, concerning the mansion’s long-ago owners — William Gracey and his wife, Eleanor (J.R. Adduci and Erika Coleman) — along with Alistair Crump, a similarly long-dead New York industrialist with a sinister connection to the place. Additional information comes from Madame Leota (Jamie Lee Curtis), who speaks to them from within the confines of her massive crystal ball, once it’s discovered.
Everything builds to a preposterous climax that pits our heroes against a malevolent entity dubbed the “Hatbox Ghost” (Jared Leto), while “good ghosts” battle “bad ghosts” on the sidelines. (The means by which we suddenly get “good ghosts” is one of this script’s biggest eyebrow-lifts.)
Dippold deserves credit for one clever touch that involves young Travis: an early hint that blossoms, during the climax, into a serious threat.
Kudos, as well, to production designer Darren Gilford, for giving Gracey Mansion such a marvelously ookie-spooky atmosphere; and to visual effects supervisor Edwin Rivera, for concocting such an imaginative assortment of ghosts. (My favorite: definitely the shrieking, axe-wielding attic ghost.)
Several familiar faces pop up in fleeting cameos, including Hasan Minhaj, as a police sketch artist; and Winona Ryder, as a bored tour guide. They’re both far more entertaining than the primary cast members.
Its many shortcomings notwithstanding, this “Haunted Mansion” is family-friendly, and — in fairness — some viewers may be able to roll with all the silliness and stupidity. But at an insufferable 122 minutes, this stuff and nonsense continues for far too long. (The 2003 film, at least, was shorter.)
Gabbie and the others get trapped inside the mansion for several days. By the time the end credits finally roll, it’ll feel like you’ve been trapped in your seat for just as long.
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