Some horror films make you jump. Some make you laugh nervously. Hell House LLC makes you deeply reconsider ever attending a Halloween haunted house again.
Written and directed by Stephen Cognetti, this 2015 found-footage gem somehow manages to be both a mockumentary, a supernatural nightmare, and an existential commentary on how far people will go for Yelp reviews. It’s the story of a group of overconfident Halloween enthusiasts who decide to turn an abandoned hotel with a Satanic past into a “fun” haunted attraction—and then seem surprised when it goes exactly as badly as that sentence sounds.
The film’s setup is classic: take one creepy location, add a handful of idiot entrepreneurs, stir in some local folklore about a cult leader who hung himself in the basement, and presto—instant demonic Airbnb. But what makes Hell House LLCstand out is that it’s genuinely unnerving and darkly funny, often at the same time. It’s the rare found-footage film that feels both authentic and absurd—like if Paranormal Activity met The Office, and then everyone died.
Welcome to the Abaddon Hotel—Check In, Don’t Check Out
The story unfolds documentary-style, beginning years after a tragic “malfunction” during the grand opening of the Hell House haunted attraction. Fifteen people—actors, guests, and presumably the guy selling glowsticks—died inside the building.
An investigative filmmaker named Diane (Alice Bahlke) sets out to uncover what really happened, tracking down the sole survivor, Sara (Ryan Jennifer Jones), who looks exactly like the kind of person who would hand you cursed VHS tapes and say, “Watch this—if you dare.” Sara hands over hours of behind-the-scenes footage, and we’re plunged back into the team’s preparations for opening night.
From the moment they set foot inside the abandoned Abaddon Hotel, you can tell things aren’t right. The electricity flickers, the walls bleed bad vibes, and there’s a clown mannequin in the basement that has more personality than most of the cast. Naturally, no one takes any of this as a red flag. Because in horror, skepticism is just another word for “short lifespan.”
Meet the Hell House Crew: Future Paranormal Statistics
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Alex (Danny Bellini) – The overconfident CEO and self-proclaimed visionary, whose motto might as well be “ignore the blood, think of the profit.”
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Sara (Ryan Jennifer Jones) – His girlfriend and emotional support ghost magnet.
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Paul (Gore Abrams) – The resident jokester who records everything, even when he really, really shouldn’t.
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Tony and Mac – The “tech guys,” which in horror means “the people who will die heroically while trying to fix the breaker box.”
They’re ambitious, idealistic, and oblivious—the perfect combination for supernatural doom. As the days pass, they encounter strange noises, flickering lights, and that same clown mannequin, which seems to have developed a habit of changing positions when no one’s looking. You’d think someone would notice the clown taking nightly strolls, but no—this group is too busy arguing over strobe light placement to notice their set decorations are possessed.
The Horror of Project Management
One of the funniest (and most terrifying) aspects of Hell House LLC is how realistic it feels. Every workplace has an Alex—the boss who insists everything is fine while the building is literally falling apart. The more things go wrong, the more Alex doubles down: “Yeah, yeah, ghosts are moving the props, but let’s stay focused on opening night.”
If OSHA inspected this haunted house, they’d need holy water instead of a clipboard. You’ve got exposed wiring, psychological breakdowns, and a basement that’s clearly a portal to Hell—and yet, the show must go on. The sheer corporate denial here is scarier than any demon.
And then there’s Paul, the cameraman whose every snarky comment feels like it’s being broadcast from the edge of doom. His slow unraveling is one of the film’s highlights—especially when he encounters a spectral woman in his room and decides the best course of action is to hide under the covers. Honestly, relatable.
The Clown That Launched a Thousand Nightmares
If there’s one character that deserves its own spin-off, it’s the clown mannequin. This thing is the silent MVP of the film—a plastic-faced nightmare with a knack for teleporting. Every time the crew walks past it, it’s looking in a slightly different direction. Sometimes it’s gone entirely. Sometimes it’s just waiting in the basement like it’s guarding a Chuck E. Cheese for Satan.
By the end, you’ll realize that the clown is less a prop and more a performance artist dedicated to the craft of ruining pants.
Opening Night: Fun for the Whole Family (of Demons)
When Hell House finally opens, everything immediately goes to hell—literally. Guests enter expecting jump scares and end up part of a massacre. Melissa, the actress playing the “sacrifice victim,” becomes the real deal when something invisible decides to make her performance more method than she intended.
From there, it’s chaos: panicked screams, power outages, and the camera’s frantic lurching as people try to escape. If you’ve ever been to a haunted house and thought, “Wow, this feels too real,” this movie is here to say: “Good. You were right.”
The genius of Cognetti’s direction is that we never see everything. The footage cuts in and out, leaving our imaginations to fill in the blanks. It’s like watching The Blair Witch Project if the witch had hired an intern with a GoPro.
The Documentary Crew: Curiosity Killed the Cameraman
In the present day, Diane and her crew piece together Sara’s footage and decide to check out the Abaddon Hotel for themselves—because journalists in horror movies are contractually obligated to make terrible choices.
Sara gives them her room number (“2C”), but when they try to contact her later, the hotel receptionist insists there is no Sara, no room 2C, and possibly no God. Naturally, Diane’s response is: “Let’s go inside!”
By the time they realize they’re trapped, it’s too late. The final scenes—featuring a ghoulish, undead Sara and her cult buddies welcoming the film crew to their new nightmare—are a perfectly bleak punchline. It’s not just Hell House that kills; it’s curiosity, ambition, and the inability to recognize when the clown has moved again.
Why It Works: Found Footage Done Right (and Wrong, in All the Right Ways)
Hell House LLC succeeds because it understands restraint. Instead of bombarding us with CGI or backflipping ghosts, it relies on atmosphere, sound design, and the simple terror of not knowing what’s real. The grainy, handheld aesthetic feels authentic, and the film’s mockumentary framing gives it a creepy realism that lingers.
It’s also slyly funny. The characters’ overconfidence, the mundane bickering, and the “we’ll fix it in post” attitude all serve as ironic foreshadowing. These people are building a haunted house and don’t realize they’re already living in one. It’s horror for anyone who’s ever had a bad boss or a clown-related trauma.
Final Thoughts: The Scariest Thing Since “Under New Management”
Hell House LLC is that rare found-footage film that earns its scares. It’s creepy, clever, and unsettling in ways that sneak up on you—like a mannequin that’s somehow closer than it was five seconds ago.
It’s also a weirdly satisfying metaphor: people chasing profit and spectacle, ignoring every warning sign, and ending up as permanent residents in their own capitalist hellscape. It’s what would happen if a start-up tried to monetize the underworld.
So yes, it’s terrifying—but also, darkly hilarious. The film asks, “What could possibly go wrong?” and then spends 90 minutes answering, “Everything, you beautiful idiots.”
Final Score: 9/10
A hauntingly effective blend of found-footage realism, ghostly chaos, and workplace satire. “Hell House LLC” proves that when it comes to haunted attractions, the scariest malfunction is human stupidity.
