If you’ve ever thought, You know what the housing market needs? More homes built directly over Hell, Gus Trikonis’ The Evil answers that very specific prayer—and then sets it on fire. This is a haunted house movie that doesn’t waste time with subtle creaks or mysterious drafts. No, the moment you step through the door, you’re locked in with a malevolent force whose idea of interior decorating involves sulfur pits, possession, and spontaneous human combustion.
A Renovation From Hell
Richard Crenna plays C.J. Arnold, a psychiatrist who buys a sprawling, decaying Civil War–era mansion to turn into a rehab center. His wife, played by Joanna Pettet, is the kind of movie doctor who can sense supernatural evil the way normal people sense mildew. Within hours, ghostly apparitions pop up, doors seal themselves shut, and their friendly canine companion gets a case of “sudden demonic rage.” This is why you always check the basement before signing a mortgage.
Opening the Wrong Door
The movie’s inciting incident is essentially C.J. doing the one thing you never do in a horror film: opening the mysterious locked trapdoor in the basement. Spoiler—this is not where they keep the wine. It’s a literal gateway to Hell, and once he pops the lid, the house goes full psycho, trapping everyone inside like they’re in a demonic Airbnb where check-out is only available via death scene.
Inventive Demises
The beauty of The Evil is that it doesn’t just kill people—it does so with style. One volunteer is roasted alive when his rope turns into a flaming bungee cord. Another loses a hand in a DIY escape attempt gone horribly wrong. The dog gets in on the action, shoving a victim off the balcony. And let’s not forget the iron bars that, when electrified, turn the windows into deadly bug zappers for humans. This is less “fixer-upper” and more “death trap with character.”
Victor Buono Steals the Show (and Probably Your Soul)
By the third act, the movie abandons its haunted-house foreplay and dives headlong into metaphysical absurdity. Our heroes venture into the sulfur pits, wandering through tunnels that look like a 1970s prog rock album cover. Waiting for them is Victor Buono as the Devil himself, lounging in a white cavern like a very judgmental talk show host. He taunts, he sneers, and he has the kind of charisma that makes you think, Maybe eternal damnation wouldn’t be so bad if he’s running the place.
Why It Works
For a low-budget late-’70s horror flick, The Evil punches above its weight. The pacing is tight, the kills are varied, and the script blends enough camp with genuine menace to keep you hooked. It’s also refreshingly blunt about its supernatural elements—no “maybe it’s all in their heads” ambiguity here. Nope. It’s Hell. There’s a Devil. Bring a cross and good running shoes.
Final Verdict
The Evil is a pulpy, over-the-top haunted house ride with just enough lunacy to make it memorable. It’s a mix of Gothic melodrama, grindhouse creativity, and Saturday matinee adventure, wrapped in a big, sulfur-scented bow.
