New review: House Of Mystery
Ready for flashbacks? And flashbacks-within-flashbacks? And Nanette Newman, not extolling the virtues of Fairy Liquid for a change?
Welcome to the House Of Mystery (now you’ve come of age). And what a gem this one is. Genuinely spooky (rare for a British horror film, let’s face it), with a story that keeps you guessing and a belter of an ending. Plus it feels like a real period piece (people are very pleased with their new television) but with a surprisingly modern approach to casting. Okay, so there’s only one black bloke (Pearson Dodd) in it, but he’s introduced as just doing a job (milkman) and then plays a pivotal role in proceedings, without the script resorting to any lazy stereotyping or even lazier early 1960s casual racism from the people he interacts with. I don’t know, I know it’s only a little thing but it really helped make the film for me. Perhaps it was just that it’s the first time I’ve seen a milkman in a film of this vintage who isn’t a skinny white cheeky-chappy with Brylcreemed hair and an enormous nose. You know the guy.
