The Deep House
UNIVERSALIf one word is to describe directing duo Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo's The Deep House, it would be disappointing. A horror that boasts quite the subverted expectation of the conventional haunted house story but is set entirely submerged underwater is not only an exciting turn but an angle that offers a great deal of potential in cinematic quality.
It is so sad to state that The Deep House is a tragic and poorly crafted feature that fails on almost every level in elevating the mundane and taking ownership of its potential. Starting with the most evident and strongest aspect of production: the underwater sequences offer a unique perspective on this conventional haunted house story. However, it would seem that its inclusion is the limitation of what the directors feel adequate in elevating the material to and seemingly decide to stop there. It is such a shame that this evolution is is stopped at the very point it needs to keep on growing, and by stunting said element right off the bat, it gives the striking impression of a hollow gimmick and vastly missed opportunity.
For starters, aside from being the base of the setting, Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo do so little in making the underwater sequences engaging or, at times, even apparent. Granted, the odd quick cutaway to an underwater camera or scuba equipment will be the only inconsistent reminder of where this feature takes place. It is such a shame because, in the multiple avenues of potential, the directors and writers succumb to the same old tired and undeniably testing cliches and genre conventions that, ironically, are enough drown this piece with a full tank of air.
Jump scares galore, the hollow, flat sound design is ramped up to an eleven for those very cutaways aforementioned to hurl sharp creaks and scratches in order to demonstrate this is a haunted house. Technology constantly seems to fail at the most essential and inconvenient times, derivative contextual beats and narrative plots commence, and the lacking iconography takes the cherry on top of sealing this venture's fate before the demons can even get their hands on the characters on screen.
What makes things worse – or better, depending on viewers satisfaction rate – is that the audience will never be able to understand what is going on on-screen due to the often abysmal camera work and editing that is often indistinguishable and abrasive with zero clarity. Granted, this could easily be explained away by both Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo stating this is a conscious choice to craft tension and atmosphere, but the sheer egotistical ignorance of said statement when in the context of these images on the screen would indicate them both on charges of blatant idiocy. If the viewer is unable to have the clarity of visuals, how on earth are they meant to be immersed or find an emotional bond with the potential terrors depicted on screen?
The level of predictability is not only frustrating in the possibility factor regarding this feature, but even at eighty minutes long, The Deep House makes the most cinematic sin of all: it is boring. The eventual reveals and climatic twists and turns are ridiculously executed with little imagination and scope. It becomes evidently clear that this is a feature with so little imagination that it often becomes painful to have to sit through the pure idiotic nature of the two characters to the extent that they might even deserve their grisly fate for this all to be over.
The sheer ignorance of the characters present is grating. However, knowing who envisions the screenplay, that mystery becomes abundantly clear. Not only are they utterly annoying, but the two characters played by James Jagger and Camille Rowe have little to no chemistry and, quite frankly, the ability to make this venture remotely believable. Not only in terms of bond between the two in regards to a relationship, but when the feature needs to take the emotional core up another level for maximum effect, it fails ten-fold due to the limitation both performers are capable of projecting. It is a shame, because this might be an avoidable issue with a stronger screenplay that can build the core from the ground up. However, not all the blame can be pushed aside, as Jagger and Rowe fail at the most basic and fundamental ability to emote or project emotional torment.
Ultimately, The Deep House is a feature that frustrates, disappoints, and quite frankly annoys the viewer. At every turn, this feature had potential; it fails to elevate. This becomes abundantly clear that even the basics of cinematography and editing are crafted without an ounce of understanding. The image is polluted throughout, and with the feature unable to allow the characters to emote visually, it relies on god-awful narration of sorts on-screen through radio chatter that, along with the drab performances, are left to deliver the antagonising screenplay aloud for a dark and haunting eighty minutes – a factor that is far scarier than this story nonetheless.
