Home Is Where the Slime Is
There are haunted house movies, and then there’s Girl on the Third Floor—a film that takes the classic “fixer-upper with a dark past” premise and asks, “Okay, but what if the house was also a bodily-fluid-based performance artist?” Travis Stevens’ 2019 feature debut isn’t just another spooky mortgage cautionary tale; it’s a sticky, morally vindictive ghost story with a gleefully mean streak, anchored by Phil Brooks (CM Punk) and more practical goo than a Ghostbusters reboot could hope for. Wikipedia+1
The Fixer-Upper from Hell
Don Koch moves into a decrepit Victorian in Ellington, Illinois, to renovate it for his pregnant wife Liz and their dog Cooper. He’s a man with a criminal past and the emotional maturity of a conspiracy subreddit, convinced that a little drywall and self-delusion can patch over a history of bad decisions. Wikipedia+1
What he actually finds is a house that bleeds sludge from its outlets, oozes mysterious liquids from the walls, and spits out marbles like a malevolent gumball machine. The place used to be a brothel, and it has very strong opinions about men who treat women as disposable amenities. Don is not renovating the house so much as arguing with it, and the house is winning—spectacularly.
CM Punk vs. the House (and Himself)
Phil Brooks’ performance is the movie’s secret weapon. On paper, casting a famously abrasive pro wrestler as a flawed, self-sabotaging man-child could’ve gone full Suburban Commando disaster. Instead, Brooks plays Don with just the right mix of swagger, petulance, and dawning terror. You believe this guy has burned bridges, lied to everyone he loves, and is still convinced he’s the hero of his own story. Inverse+2ScreenCrush+2
He’s not. The film delights in making that clear. Don’s affair with the seductive neighbor Sarah isn’t just a bad choice—it’s the inciting incident in a full-blown spiritual OSHA violation. As the house punishes him, Brooks sells the physical and psychological unraveling with commitment that’s both impressive and darkly funny. Watching him try to alpha-male his way through peeling wallpaper and supernatural rot is like watching a guy pick a fight with mold and lose.
Practical Effects: “Wonderful and Gross” Is an Understatement
Let’s talk about the real star: the effects work by Daniel Martin. Critics were absolutely right to single out the film’s “wonderful and gross” practical effects; they’re the kind that cling to your memory like that mysterious stain on a rental carpet. Wikipedia+2Hammer Horror Wiki+2
This house doesn’t just creak and groan—it leaks, spurts, and secretes. The marbles tunneling under Don’s skin are the sort of simple but nasty gag that horror used to specialize in before everything turned into CGI fog. The walls bulge and sweat; light fixtures drip; sockets ejaculate slime (yes, the metaphor is about as subtle as a brick, and that’s half the fun). Every gross detail serves the theme: this building is a monument to weaponized male desire, and now the plumbing is vomiting up the receipts.
The third act goes truly off the rails in the best way, pushing into surreal, fleshy nightmare territory. By the time Don is carving into his own neck to get the house out of his body, the movie has fully committed to being a moral fable told through body horror and bad home improvement choices. IMDb+1
Haunted House as #MeToo Parable
Plenty of haunted houses punish the innocent; this one is very specifically coming for men who think apologies are a personality trait. Critics have called it a haunted house story for the #MeToo era, and they’re not wrong. Wikipedia
The brothel backstory, the voyeuristic viewing platform in the attic, and the men in suits watching women perform for them—it’s all a deliberately nasty reminder of how female bodies have been turned into architecture for male pleasure. Don doesn’t just stumble into a cursed house; he walks straight into a generational feedback loop of exploitation and decides to repeat it. The house responds like a very messy HR department.
What keeps this from becoming a lecture is Stevens’ willingness to complicate everyone. The women are archetypal in some ways—seductress, pastor, long-suffering wife—but they’re also the ones making decisions that move the story beyond Don’s stupidity. Liz’s ultimate choice to stay and confront the house rather than flee gives the film a surprisingly hopeful, if bleakly ironic, ending: the curse is lifted not by a man’s redemption arc, but by a woman who refuses to be another casualty of his “fresh start.” Wikipedia+1
Travis Stevens: New Kid, Old-School Instincts
For a first-time director, Travis Stevens shows a pretty sharp command of pacing and mood. Festival reviewers at SXSW, BUFF, and London FrightFest praised his genre chops, and you can see why: he knows when to lean on slow-burn dread and when to unleash full-on grotesque chaos. Wikipedia+2Hammer Horror Wiki+2
The house itself—an actual property in Frankfort, Illinois, mid-renovation during filming—feels lived-in and cursed in all the right ways. Wikipedia The cinematography lingers on peeling wallpaper, narrow hallways, and that all-important third floor like the building is quietly waiting to swallow Don whole. Stevens never forgets that the house is the main character; Don is just the idiot who left the door open.
Supporting Players in the Meat Grinder
Trieste Kelly Dunn brings grounded warmth and steel to Liz, making her more than the usual “worried wife on the phone.” When she finally arrives at the house and gets her own tour of hell, the film shifts gears into something sadder and more resonant—about betrayal, grief, and choosing what kind of parent you’re going to be in spite of all that. IMDb+1
Sarah Brooks’ Sarah Yates is weaponized temptation with a spectral twist, oscillating between genuinely alluring and outright predatory. She feels like the house’s favorite avatar: the deadly “you up?” text given human form. Karen Woditsch’s pastor Ellie brings in a moral framework without turning the film into a sermon; she’s less “holy woman” and more “neighbor who has seen some things and would really prefer you sell this place and move back to Chicago.”
Even the dog, Cooper, gets a memorable (if tragic) arc—because nothing says “this house is evil” like a dryer scene that will make pet owners reconsider ever doing laundry again. Wikipedia+1
Not Perfect, But Perfectly Nasty
Is Girl on the Third Floor flawless? No. Some of the writing is clunky, a couple of themes are about as delicate as the sludge leaking from the electrical sockets, and not every idea lands. Critics have noted that the film can feel a little blunt in how it treats its female characters and its metaphors. Wikipedia+1
But honestly, there’s something charming about a horror movie that isn’t afraid to be messy, both literally and figuratively. In an era where so many genre films are obsessed with being “elevated,” Stevens delivers something proudly, gloriously gross—a haunted house flick that doesn’t pretend its moral is subtle, but still earns its queasy power through old-school craftsmanship and a surprisingly sharp sense of justice.
Final Verdict: A Sticky, Satisfying Haunt
Girl on the Third Floor is what happens when a fixer-upper becomes a taker-downer. It’s a haunted house movie that remembers the house should actually do something, a morality play that punishes its slimeball protagonist without ever feeling like homework, and a practical-effects playground where marbles and mucus are more terrifying than any CGI specter.
Phil Brooks proves he can carry a movie, Travis Stevens announces himself as a director worth watching, and Daniel Martin’s effects team turns drywall into a crime scene. Wikipedia+2Hammer Horror Wiki+2
If you like your horror with a conscience, your metaphors dripping off the ceiling, and your home renovation shows replaced by supernatural audits of toxic masculinity, this is one cursed listing absolutely worth visiting. Just… maybe don’t bring the dog.
