Welcome to the Haunted Suburbs
There are two types of haunted house movies: the kind that make you afraid to turn off the lights, and the kind that make you afraid of wasting your Friday night. Haunt somehow manages to be both. It’s spooky enough to keep you watching, but generic enough that halfway through, you’ll be thinking, “Didn’t I already see this on Netflix in 2009?”
Directed by Mac Carter — in his feature debut, bless his haunted heart — Haunt plays like The Conjuring’s younger, more insecure cousin. It’s earnest, atmospheric, and occasionally effective… when it isn’t tripping over its own clichés like a ghost caught in the bedsheets.
A Tale as Old as EVP
The film opens with a tragic prologue featuring a man named Franklin, who’s trying to contact his dead children through an EVP box — basically a ghost radio for people who think static counts as evidence. He gets more than he bargained for when he becomes possessed and commits suicide, proving once again that communicating with the dead is a solid way to join them.
Enter Dr. Morello (Jacki Weaver, presumably cashing a quick check between Oscar-nominated performances), who narrates about how her family died in the same house because she messed with supernatural forces. You’d think this would lead to a “do not rent” sign on the property, but alas, in horror movies, Zillow never includes “previous demonic occupancy” as a filter.
So in move the Ashers — a picture-perfect suburban family with three kids, a dog, and a strong sense of plot obliviousness. Teen son Evan (Harrison Gilbertson) quickly befriends the local girl-next-door, Samantha (Liana Liberato), who has enough emotional baggage to fill a moving truck. They connect instantly over shared trauma and a lack of adult supervision.
Soon, Evan starts hearing whispers, seeing shadows, and experiencing all the classic “you’re living in a haunted house” symptoms. Naturally, the duo decides the best way to handle this is to find the EVP box and play amateur ghostbusters.
Spoiler: it doesn’t go well.
Teenage Love in the Time of Demons
The heart of Haunt — and sometimes the intestines — lies in the chemistry between Evan and Samantha. They’re both wounded, lonely kids trying to find comfort in each other, which is a refreshingly human element in a film full of floaty CGI specters.
Harrison Gilbertson does a solid job as the “nice but cursed” protagonist, carrying the same perpetually confused expression as if he’s not sure whether he’s in a ghost story or a CW drama. Liana Liberato, meanwhile, gives Samantha a blend of vulnerability and edge. She’s got that “final girl energy” — brave, sad, and perpetually seconds away from a possession.
Their interactions feel natural and awkward in all the right ways, like an after-school special about grief… directed by a poltergeist. When they’re whispering in dark hallways or trying to interpret static on the EVP box, there’s a certain low-key charm to their doomed curiosity.
But then the ghosts show up, and the movie remembers it’s supposed to be scary.
Ghosts by Numbers
Haunt’s spirits are an odd bunch. They’re not particularly frightening, but they sure are busy. They whisper, flicker lights, open doors, close them again, and occasionally show up just to scream in people’s faces. It’s less The Shining and more Customer Service: The Afterlife Edition.
The film relies heavily on jump scares — the cinematic equivalent of someone yelling “boo” at you from behind a curtain. To Carter’s credit, a few of them actually work. The sound design is creepy, the cinematography (by Adam Marsden) is slick, and the house itself is suitably eerie, with just enough shadows and peeling wallpaper to suggest “murder happened here.”
Unfortunately, the script keeps undermining its own atmosphere by explaining everything. It’s one of those movies where a character literally says, “We shouldn’t have done that,” immediately after doing exactly that. The haunting starts off mysterious and ends up as a tangled web of family secrets, infidelity, and vengeful ghost moms.
Which, to be fair, sounds great — but it’s handled with all the subtlety of a hammer to the face.
Mommy Issues: The Ghost Edition
The film’s big twist is that Samantha isn’t just some random girl next door; she’s actually the daughter of the murdered woman haunting the house. Which makes her entire romance with Evan even more awkward, since he’s technically living in her mother’s grave.
When Sam gets possessed by her mother’s spirit, things escalate from “mild haunting” to “hammer time.” Evan meets a gruesome end, the house gets spiritually condemned, and Dr. Morello closes the movie by wondering aloud if everyone’s soul is doomed to hang out there forever — like a spectral homeowners association.
It’s tragic, sure, but also kind of funny. You can’t help but admire the ghost mom’s dedication. After all, most people struggle to get their kids to call once a week, and she’s crossing dimensions just to micromanage.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ghostly
The Good:
-
The acting is surprisingly strong for a mid-budget horror flick. Gilbertson and Liberato elevate the material beyond its “bargain bin Paranormal Activity” roots.
-
The cinematography gives the film a glossy, dreamlike feel — suburban dread never looked so elegant.
-
Jacki Weaver’s narration is pure gold. She delivers her lines with Shakespearean gravitas, even when she’s describing a haunted walk-in closet.
The Bad:
-
The script tries too hard to connect every dot, leaving no room for mystery. It’s as if the ghosts are filing quarterly reports.
-
The scares are inconsistent — one genuinely eerie moment is followed by three cheap fake-outs.
-
The final act collapses under the weight of its own melodrama, like a séance hosted by Hallmark.
The Mac Carter Problem
As debuts go, Mac Carter’s direction is confident but cautious. He clearly knows his genre — Haunt wears its influences like a Halloween costume: The Others, Insidious, and Poltergeist all peek through the cracks. But Carter never quite commits to any one tone. Sometimes it’s a slow-burn ghost story; sometimes it’s a teen thriller; sometimes it’s a soap opera with ectoplasm.
You can sense the film wanting to be more profound — something about grief, trauma, and the things we bury — but every time it gets close, another jump scare barges in like a drunk uncle.
Still, you have to respect Carter for trying to make a haunted house movie with emotional intelligence. It’s just that the ghosts keep interrupting the therapy session.
Final Thoughts: Boo-hoo and Bravo
Haunt is the cinematic equivalent of a séance that almost works. The candles flicker, the table shakes, and for a moment, you feel the goosebumps — but then someone sneezes and the spell breaks.
It’s not a bad movie; it’s just haunted by its own indecision. It’s too polished to be campy, too predictable to be groundbreaking, and too serious to fully embrace its teen-goth energy. But when it hits, it hits: those quiet, tragic moments between Evan and Samantha linger longer than any ghost could.
If you like your hauntings with a side of awkward teenage romance and mild existential dread, Haunt delivers. Just don’t expect it to reinvent the Ouija board.
Rating: 6 out of 10 EVP Frequencies.
Some ghosts whisper, some scream — this one mumbles “mediocre” through the static, but it’s still worth listening.
