Review of The Changeling (1980) by Steve U — 03 May 2014

The 1980 film THE CHANGELING is one of the most genuinely frightening movies I have ever seen, with a false sense of innocence that lures us into its darkness. It utilizes mood, story, atmosphere, and plot so effectively that, even after multiple viewings, I still find it unsettling. The fact that George C. Scott stars in this film should be some indication of its quality, but don't be fooled; Scott is just one of many strong elements at work. Everything on display here bears the mark of mature, intelligent filmmaking (the acting, direction, cinematography, sets, and music are uniformly excellent), and when dedicated to such a genre as horror, the results are truly terrifying.

George C. Scott plays John Russell, a NYC composer who, upon the tragic deaths of his wife and only daughter, takes a college professorship in Seattle to get away from it all. He rents an immense old mansion where he feels he can plug away at the piano undisturbed. Then strange things start to happen: doors creak open and shut, he hears the sound of water splashing wherever he goes, and every morning at 6 the pipes clang with the force of a cannon. It's bothersome enough that he decides to investigate the history of the house, and after finding a secret attic that has been crudely boarded up, John makes a startling discovery. I would not dream of revealing it, except to say it's one of the creepiest ghost story experiences in movie history. You'll never look at wheelchairs the same way again.

While THE CHANGELING employs a number of standard haunted house tricks, it treats the material with such sincerity and craft one cannot help getting drawn into its mystery. A lot of credit goes to George C. Scott, who underplays Russell as a man so quietly affected by his own personal tragedy that he almost accepts the intrusion of evil spirits with resigned indifference. It's an odd choice, but with tremendous results. Scott is such a naturally stoic and impenetrably subtle actor that when he does actually lose his composure, we're disconcerted, as is he, by the severity of events. Helping him along is Trish Van Devere (Scott's real-life wife) as a historical preservationist who fills him in on the house's history. She too gives an understated performance, and as doors open and close on her in the dark, the look in her eyes says it all. There's something strange in the neighborhood. Ultimately, Scott and Van Devere register as real people, and therefore, we are made more accepting of their unreal situation.

I said that Scott plays a composer, and sure enough, one area the film proves especially creepy in is its music. When he writes an engagingly beautiful lullaby early on, it speaks of the tenderness and sensitivity of his personal loss. Not so to the house, which takes his melody and twists it into a perversely ironic representation of spiritual evil. The rest of the film score is composed of sinister strings, mournful piano work, and my personal favorite, echoing human shrieks. It's an effective melange that puts us immediately on edge and distracts us with orchestral beauty, only to punctuate it with moments of symphonic horror. Watch the film in the dark, if you doubt it.

If there is a failing in THE CHANGELING, it's that the conclusion, while fitting, feels somehow rushed. It's not that the movie is fast-paced; rather, it's scary precisely because it takes its time and allows our dread to build. It succeeds where most horror films fail because even after it reveals what's going on, we are still kept in the dark about the house's true motivations. Is it trustworthy or no? Is the sympathetic Scott really safe or just as endangered as everyone else? Suffice to say, I can reveal no more about the ending, except to say that the film ends, as all effective horror films must, with a final shot reasserting the creepiness of its central conceit and the implication that the doorway to the supernatural is never truly closed. If at the end you still aren't scared by what the film has shown us, you may scoff, but before you do, consider one final, parting fact--it's also a true story.