Lewis Gilbert—yes, the guy who gave us Alfie and three James Bond films—decided in the mid-90s to make a gothic ghost story about incestuous siblings, seances, and Aidan Quinn looking perpetually confused. The result? Haunted(1995), a film that is both absurdly earnest and quietly effective, like Downton Abbey if it were directed by someone who kept muttering “more fog” after every take.
It’s based on James Herbert’s novel, but the movie makes so many changes it feels less like an adaptation and more like Herbert gave them permission to photocopy a chapter and wing it. But somehow—it works. It’s creepy, atmospheric, and weirdly funny, even when it’s not trying to be.
idan Quinn vs. Ghosts (and Logic)
Our protagonist is Professor David Ash, played by Aidan Quinn with the permanent expression of a man who just realized his students are smarter than he is. David is a professional skeptic, a parapsychologist who spends his life debunking mediums. He does this because his twin sister Juliet died when they were kids, and he’s been drowning in Catholic guilt ever since.
Of course, nothing says “coping with trauma” like being lured to a haunted mansion in Sussex by a letter from an elderly nanny who insists the place is infested with ghosts. David shows up, ready to disprove everything, only to find himself surrounded by a trio of suspiciously attractive, suspiciously close-knit siblings who may or may not be alive.
Spoiler: they’re not. But try telling that to Aidan Quinn, who spends the first hour ignoring every red flag like he’s auditioning for the role of World’s Densest Academic.
Kate Beckinsale, Professional Distraction
Enter Kate Beckinsale, here playing Christina Mariell with weaponized innocence and a wardrobe seemingly designed to make David forget every professional boundary he ever had. She flirts, she bats her eyelashes, she lures him into bed—before we learn that, oh yes, she’s a ghost.
Sleeping with the living is one thing. Sleeping with the dead? That’s commitment to the paranormal sciences. David doesn’t seem too concerned, though, proving that horny academics will ignore metaphysical impossibilities if it means spending a night with Kate Beckinsale in a nightgown.
The only downside is when David realizes he’s basically having a one-night stand with someone who’s been dead for years, and also participated in incest with her brothers. Therapy bills incoming.
The Ghosts Who Gaslight
The Mariell siblings are some of the most polite, well-dressed gaslighters in cinematic history. They spend most of the movie trying to convince David that he’s the crazy one, while casually knocking over furniture, whispering his dead sister’s name, and keeping their senile nanny prisoner.
Robert (Anthony Andrews) plays the uptight older brother who radiates “I probably buried someone in the garden.” Simon (Alex Lowe) is the wild younger brother who looks like he would 100% start a jazz band in hell. And Christina… well, Christina just keeps throwing herself at David like it’s a Jane Austen adaptation with jump scares.
By the time David figures out they all died in a fire in 1923, you’re not shocked. You’re just wondering why he didn’t notice sooner. Pro tip: if everyone in a mansion is dressed like they’re about to attend a Great Gatsby cosplay convention, you’re not dealing with the living.
John Gielgud and the Case of the Dead Doctor
John Gielgud wanders into this movie as Dr. Doyle, the family physician who seems to exist solely to smoke pipes and provide exposition. He reassures David that everything is perfectly fine… until we learn that Doyle himself has been dead for years.
That’s right—Gielgud’s ghost is gaslighting the ghost skeptics about other ghosts. At this point, the only person who isn’t dead is probably the dog. And even that feels debatable.
Incest, Fire, and One Hell of a Reveal
Where Haunted really goes off the rails (in a delightfully gothic way) is the backstory. It turns out Mama Mariell drowned herself after walking in on Robert and Simon sharing the family bed—with their sister Christina. Yes, it’s incest. Yes, it’s gross. Yes, it’s somehow delivered with the gravitas of Shakespearean tragedy.
Nanny Tess, in a moment of long-overdue moral clarity, locked the siblings in a room and set the place on fire. The Mariells died, but instead of leaving peacefully, they hung around as stylish, horny ghosts who now want David to join their eternal ménage à trois.
This is not a movie for subtlety.
Ghost Sex, Ghost Fire, and Juliet Saves the Day
David resists joining Ghost Club 1923, and in retaliation, the Mariells burn the house down again. It’s like their favorite party trick. Just as David is about to get flambéed, the ghost of his twin sister Juliet appears, takes him by the hand, and leads him out through the flames.
It’s touching, if you ignore the part where he literally cheated on his trauma-sister’s memory with a ghost who was busy playing necromantic Twister with her brothers. Family reunions are going to be awkward.
The Ending: Surprise, She’s Still Dead
David returns home, seemingly free, and reconnects with his assistant Kate. But the movie can’t resist one last wink: Christina, pale and smiling, lurks in the fog behind them, ready to keep haunting him like a clingy ex.
This ending is perfect. Of course Christina’s ghost isn’t done. You don’t spend a century seducing men with your Victorian nightgown just to let one skeptical professor walk away.
Why This Works (Despite Itself)
Now, on paper this movie sounds ridiculous. And to be clear—it is. Ghost sex? Incest? Anthony Andrews smoldering in a dinner jacket like he’s in Downton Abbey of the Damned? All of it is absurd.
But here’s the thing: it works. Gilbert shoots the mansion with dripping gothic atmosphere—fog, firelight, crumbling staircases. The cast commits, especially Kate Beckinsale, who makes Christina alternately charming, tragic, and terrifying. Aidan Quinn sells his confusion like a man trapped in a perpetual Scooby-Doo episode. And John Gielgud… well, John Gielgud could read the phone book and make it sound haunted.
The pacing builds nicely from mild parlor tricks to full-on hellfire. And the tone, hovering somewhere between serious period drama and campy ghost story, keeps the whole thing entertaining even when it leans into melodrama.
Final Verdict
Haunted is like ordering a glass of fine vintage wine, only to realize someone spiked it with absinthe and Victorian melodrama. It’s lush, atmospheric, and deeply silly, but that combination somehow makes it irresistible.
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Pros: Gorgeous sets, Kate Beckinsale at her most haunting, Aidan Quinn’s perpetual bafflement, and enough fog to make Silent Hill jealous.
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Cons: Incest subplot delivered with Shakespearean seriousness, ghost sex treated like foreplay, and a lead who should’ve realized everyone was dead 40 minutes earlier.
