Small-Town Gothic, With All the Horsepower of a Lawn Mower
If you’ve ever inherited an old house from a creepy aunt and thought, “Gee, I hope it comes with a used hearse, a devil-worship subplot, and a romantic subplot so tepid it could be served at room temperature,” then The Hearse is your dream come true. For everyone else, it’s a slow-moving, low-octane supernatural slog that proves you can make Satanism boring if you really, really try.
Director George Bowers delivers what could generously be described as “a film” — if your definition of film includes long shots of Trish Van Devere looking mildly annoyed while Joseph Cotten wanders in from a better movie to collect a paycheck.
The Plot: Half Ghost Story, Half Real Estate Drama
Jane Hardy (Trish Van Devere) is a recently divorced schoolteacher who decides to spend the summer in a small town called Blackford, because nothing says “emotional recovery” like moving into a house with a known occult past. Her late Aunt Rebecca was a Satanist, the townsfolk are about as welcoming as a parking ticket, and a ghostly black hearse occasionally pulls into her driveway just to vanish again — like an Uber driver who realizes they’ve got the wrong passenger.
Instead of leaving immediately (as any sane person would), Jane decides to settle in, read Aunt Rebecca’s diary of devil-worship adventures, and flirt awkwardly with two local men: Paul, the boy-next-door hardware store helper, and Tom Sullivan, a mysterious vintage-car enthusiast who practically radiates “I am a supernatural being, please don’t date me” energy.
The Hearse Itself: Not Exactly Christine
The titular hearse should be the star of the film — menacing, otherworldly, an omen of doom. Instead, it’s just… there. It rolls up, idles creepily, disappears. It doesn’t even have the decency to honk ominously. Compared to other famous haunted vehicles, this hearse is like the Kia Sedona of evil cars: practical, but no one’s writing fan fiction about it.
Romance, If You Can Call It That
The “romantic” subplot between Jane and Tom is as thrilling as a lukewarm cup of chamomile tea. Their chemistry makes a tax audit look passionate. By the time they finally hook up, you’re less invested in their relationship and more concerned about whether Jane remembered to lock the front door before inviting the undead into her personal space.
Paul, the other love interest, spends most of the film looking like a rejected Ralph Macchio stunt double and ends up dead before he gets the chance to be more than mildly jealous.
Pacing: Like Watching Paint Dry, But Spookier
At 99 minutes, The Hearse feels twice as long, mostly because it leans hard on slow-burn suspense without actually delivering much of anything. There are stretches where the only thing happening is Jane wandering through the house looking vaguely perturbed. The supernatural “scares” are mostly limited to the hearse cameos, a couple of soft-focus ghost shots, and townspeople glaring at her like she’s parked in their spot at the diner.
The Satanism Angle: Satan Deserved Better
Aunt Rebecca’s devil-worshipping past should be fertile ground for occult horror, but instead it’s treated like a mild eccentricity. “Oh, Rebecca? Yeah, she sold her soul to the Dark Lord, but she still made a mean peach cobbler.” The climactic reveal — that Tom is a centuries-old demonic lover looking to pick up where he left off — lands with all the force of a damp sponge.
Acting: Professional But Utterly Unenthusiastic
Trish Van Devere tries her best to imbue Jane with some agency, but she spends most of the film reacting to things that are either vaguely spooky or just annoying. Joseph Cotten, playing attorney Walter Pritchard, delivers his lines like he’s reading them off the back of a cereal box, while David Gautreaux’s Tom is so generically “mysterious” he could be replaced with a cardboard cutout wearing a fedora and no one would notice.
The Climax: Car Chase to Nowhere
The big finale pits Jane against Tom in a hearse-vs-car chase that ends with the hearse toppling off a cliff and exploding. It’s supposed to be a cathartic victory — except moments later, a ghostly Aunt Rebecca pops up in the window, suggesting that evil still lingers. Or maybe she’s just there to complain about the property taxes.
Final Thoughts: The Hearse is Parked in the Wrong Genre
The Hearse had all the ingredients for a solid B-movie: a spooky car, an occult backstory, a small town full of secrets. Instead, it delivers something that’s not quite scary, not quite romantic, and not quite worth your time. It’s the cinematic equivalent of inheriting a haunted house only to find out the ghosts just want to borrow your Wi-Fi and never leave.
If you’re into slow-burn horror where the burn is so slow it never actually ignites, The Hearse might be your ride. For everyone else, hitch a lift with literally any other haunted vehicle in movie history. Even Herbie the Love Bug had more menace.
