Every now and then a movie comes along that makes you yearn for a drive-in theater revival, and The House of the Devil is one of them. Ti West’s exercise in slow-burn horror wouldn’t look out of place on a double bill with the likes of The Omen or Burnt Offerings, and that’s entirely intentional. Not so much an homage to the horror flicks of the ’70s and ’80s (with all the wink-wink kitschiness that implies) as a meticulous recreation of same, House is more concerned with stretching nail-biting suspense to the breaking point than finding new ways of making heads explode. (Although, rest assured, at least one head does explode real good.)
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