Every Christmas, Filipino families gather for food, laughter, and—naturally—vengeful spirits with questionable moral compasses. Haunted Mansion (2015), Jun Lana’s deliciously gothic entry to the 41st Metro Manila Film Festival, is that rare yuletide movie where the “silent night” includes bloodcurdling screams and black magic. It’s part teen melodrama, part ghostly mystery, and part “don’t ever accept a retreat in the middle of nowhere” cautionary tale.
And yet, despite its collection of clichés—dead socialites, doomed teenagers, and a witch who collects tongues like Pokémon cards—Haunted Mansion manages to be hauntingly entertaining.
It’s the perfect horror film for people who like their scares with style, their melodrama with moral lessons, and their priests with asthma.
The Setup: Spiritual Growth… and Death
It all begins with a student retreat gone wrong. A group of high schoolers, led by their long-suffering teachers and one extremely nervous priest, head to a remote mansion in the province for “reflection.” Because, as we all know, nothing says “find yourself” like a haunted ancestral home dripping with trauma, colonial guilt, and antique furniture that could eat you.
Enter Ella (Janella Salvador), the film’s protagonist—a sweet, doe-eyed girl with a terrible secret: she can see dead people. She’s basically the Sixth Sense kid, but with better hair and the ability to cry on cue. Her supernatural sensitivity makes her the perfect magnet for all things cursed and shrieking in vintage gowns.
She’s joined by two boys who both have feelings for her (because nothing distracts from trauma like a love triangle): Adrian (Marlo Mortel), her loyal friend with the emotional range of a golden retriever, and Jacob (Jerome Ponce), the brooding rival who looks like he practices smoldering in front of a mirror.
Meanwhile, the mean girls—Megan, Jessie, and Allison—are busy being mean, because apparently, even in horror movies, bullying is more contagious than demonic possession.
The Mansion: Welcome to the Airbnb from Hell
The group arrives at the Lobregat Mansion, a sprawling, creaky monument to bad vibes and unpaid exorcisms. They’re greeted by caretakers Selya and Anding, who provide exposition in the traditional Filipino horror way: long stories about Japanese occupation ghosts, dead mistresses, and suspiciously intact chandeliers.
The mansion’s dark history centers on Doña Amara (Iza Calzado, radiating enough elegance to make the afterlife look fashionable) and her sister Veronica, both of whom died under, shall we say, witchy circumstances. It’s revealed that Amara, consumed by jealousy and lust, dabbled in black magic, orchestrated a murder, and now spends her afterlife snatching tongues from anyone who tries to tell the truth.
Yes, you read that right—Amara doesn’t just kill; she silences. Literally. The woman’s spiritual hobby is collecting tongues like trophies. She’s the kind of ghost that makes you appreciate dental insurance.
The Horror: Fear, Fog, and Flying Teenagers
Lana directs the scares with flair and a sense of theater. There are flickering lights, long corridors that seem to go on forever, and enough sudden apparitions to make your popcorn jump.
But the film’s greatest strength is how it weaponizes Filipino guilt. Every character in Haunted Mansion has something to confess—sins of jealousy, deceit, pride, and, of course, prank-based stupidity. The ghosts aren’t just killing for fun; they’re punishing poor moral decisions. It’s like Final Destination if the Grim Reaper were your strict Catholic grandmother.
One by one, the students fall victim to the curse, usually after listening to an incriminating voice note. The result? Instant death by tongue removal. Forget cancel culture—this is literal silencing.
The stormy night sequences, where lightning flashes illuminate faces mid-scream, are beautifully shot. The production design captures that signature MMFF aesthetic: gothic grandeur meets provincial kitsch. You half expect Kris Aquino to walk in holding a crucifix and saying, “Aba, may multo!”
The Ghosts: Love, Jealousy, and Black Magic
In true telenovela fashion, the ghosts have tragic backstories worthy of prime-time drama. Veronica and Jaime, the doomed lovers, were victims of Amara’s jealousy. Amara herself isn’t just evil—she’s emotionally damaged, the kind of ghost who needs both an exorcism and a therapist.
Iza Calzado absolutely devours her scenes (and possibly a few souls). Draped in funereal black lace and gliding through mist like a supermodel from hell, she commands every frame. She’s less a ghost and more a gothic diva with anger management issues.
Her powers—telekinesis, soul manipulation, and tongue-harvesting—could easily feel absurd, but Calzado’s gravitas makes it work. When she appears, you don’t laugh; you instinctively check that your own tongue is still attached.
The Teens: Sinners, Survivors, and Snapchat Casualties
Haunted Mansion doesn’t just rely on its ghosts for scares—the living characters provide plenty of human horror too. There’s the trio of bullies whose pranks go from childish to karmically catastrophic. There’s Ms. Gonzales (Janice de Belen), the teacher who literally dies trying to breathe. And then there’s Father Anthony, the priest whose faith seems to waver every time the lights flicker—relatable, really.
Janella Salvador carries the film with surprising emotional depth. For a debut feature, she manages to convey fear, compassion, and moral exhaustion all at once. She’s the beating heart of the story—sincere, terrified, and too polite to scream profanity at demons.
And when she finally faces Amara, rosary in one hand and crucifix in the other, it’s pure Catholic action hero energy. If Hollywood has The Exorcist, the Philippines now has The Exorcis-tita.
The Ending: Miracles, Memory Loss, and the Return of the Dead
After a solid hour of ghostly gore and teenage hysteria, Haunted Mansion ends in classic Filipino horror style: the good survive, the evil perish (temporarily), and there’s still a setup for a sequel that never came.
Ella defeats Amara by shoving a rosary down her throat—because nothing says “divine intervention” like literal weaponized prayer beads. The battle leaves Ella with amnesia, but she recovers just in time for one last jump scare: Amara’s final attempt at revenge. Cue slow zoom, eerie lighting, and Ella’s eyes snapping open in demonic possession. Roll credits.
It’s the kind of ending that makes you both gasp and chuckle. Because of course she’s not gone. You don’t cast Iza Calzado as a witch and expect her to stay dead.
The Style: Gothic Glamour Meets Filipino Sentiment
Visually, Haunted Mansion is a feast. The cinematography balances elegance with dread—the candlelit halls, the flickering chandeliers, the rain-slicked windows all create a world that feels at once beautiful and cursed.
Even the ghosts are shot with a kind of perverse glamour. When Amara appears, it’s like watching a Bench fashion show for the damned. The musical score swells with operatic intensity, and the sound design ensures you hear every creak, whisper, and supernatural tongue removal in Dolby clarity.
The Message: Confession Is Good for the Soul—Unless the Ghost Gets You First
At its heart, Haunted Mansion isn’t just about ghosts. It’s about guilt, redemption, and the unspoken sins that haunt us long after we’ve said “Amen.” It’s also about the dangers of retreats. Seriously—if your school’s next “spiritual getaway” involves a mansion with its own cemetery, fake an illness.
Jun Lana’s film reminds us that in the Philippines, horror is never just supernatural—it’s moral, emotional, and always slightly melodramatic.
Final Thoughts: Scary, Stylish, and Sinfully Fun
Haunted Mansion is that rare MMFF horror entry that looks great, feels creepy, and never forgets to entertain. It’s not just another haunted house flick; it’s a love letter to Filipino gothic storytelling—full of Catholic guilt, tragic ghosts, and enough thunderclaps to power a teleserye for a year.
Janella Salvador shines as a modern horror heroine, while Iza Calzado steals the show with a performance so wickedly elegant she makes witchcraft look aspirational.
Yes, it’s melodramatic. Yes, it’s occasionally over the top. But that’s exactly what makes it work.
Final Score: 8.5/10
A beautifully shot, darkly funny, tongue-ripping ghost story that proves once again: nobody does supernatural guilt trips like the Filipinos.
