O Ninho

Probably should have been much more nastier and sleazy than it was, because of the plot's lurid context and it being directed by adult filmmaker Armand Weston. However that's not the case, even though it does provide some nudity and unpleasant shocks it doesn't go all that far with it. Nonetheless the main issue arose with the narrative, as this haunted house feature just wasn't all that gripping in its mystery or characters. Outside some of its stinging set-pieces (rooftop rescue) and its perfect rural locations that centred it all around a strikingly imposing Victorian house, it was rather bland. Novelist Lauren Cochran suffers from Agoraphobia and decides to leave the city for the countryside for peace in an attempt to help her writer's block. The old house she rents has a shocking history, although unaware to that, strange things begin happening as she begins to see a recurring lady figure and brutal deaths start occurring. The formulaic story is rather contrived in its developments (visions of the past, family secrets and retribution) or in a way there's not much happening at all. There the script even toys around with the character's phobia to draw upon mystery and tension. It's unremarkable, but still the film looks well produced for such a little b-picture. Many stylish shots that can have an eerie feel, a kinetically unhinged music score that only adds to the anxiety filled atmosphere and the editing is tautly done despite its slowly unravelling nature. The performances are kind of bumpy as Robin Graves' neurotically uptight turn is believable, but aggravating in some hysterics. Also genre favourite John Carradine has a key role and tiny part for Gloria Grahame. An accomplished, but unspectacular 80s haunted house fare.

"Last night I lost touch of all reality".

Armand Weston's "The Nesting" (shot under the title "Phobia" but losing that monicker to John Huston's coterminous pic) is an effective tale of supernatural horror introing a most appealing actress, Robin Groves, as lead. Almost derailed by an overplayed psycho-amuck, pic resolves itself convincingly as an atmospheric haunted house thriller.

Groves stars as Lauren Cochran, an author of gothic novels, latest of which gives pic its "The Nesting" tag. Her intense phobia of leaving her New York townhouse is temporarily overcome when she moves to a spooky remote Victorian mansion.

Coming under the spell of ghosts inhabiting the mansion, a former brothel, Cochran's fears return. She becomes a gog in the ghosts' revenge upon their murderers, with the original massacre related in a slow motion "ballet of death" flashback executed in the style of Sam Peckinpah. By pic's end both the ghosts' vendetta and heroine's fears are exorcised.

Pic almost falls apart midway when Weston focuses on one of the murderers who maniacally goes after Cochran in an all too mundane "mad killer" fashion. He allows David Tabor as the psycho to mug outrageously in an embarrassing Rod Steiger imitation, and the film has a hard time recovering its credibility.

Aside from this lapse, pic is carried by the intense performance of Groves, who somewhat resembles the late British actress Rachel Roberts. Supporting cast, apart from Tabor, is okay, with John Carradine providing black humor and exposition, while Gloria Grahame unfortunately is waste in a bit as the brothel madam and lead ghost.

With this pic, helmer Weston makes the jump from hardcore porn to mainstream production, demonstrating a strong visual sense and narrative skill. Atmospheric film boasts excellent special effects, but the musical score is trite library music.

My review was written in April 1981 after a Times Square screening.

An agoraphobic writer gets a house in the country which turns out to be haunted. That's a great set up to a movie. You have a character who's scared to leave their house being stuck there with things even more terrifying than what awaits them outdoors. Unfortunately, there were times I almost forgot the heroine had this affliction, because she sure seems to get over it whenever the plot calls for her to and there aren't enough scares to make this slow burning, overlong movie very interesting.

An agoraphobic writer somehow gets enough control of her issues to drive up a secluded country estate where she can rest and get some writing done only to find out it used to be a whorehouse and the scene of a few brutal murders. Naturally, the ghosts begin calling to her, but can she be trusted?

The Nesting has its heart in the right place and, perhaps, with a less annoying protagonist, it could have worked better than it does, but the simple fact of the matter is that no one wants to spend nearly 2 hours with someone this whiny. I can't tell if it was the writing or the actress, but she got on my nerves. The house location is really impressive and there's some mood to be milked from that, but not many of the scares land and it feels like it takes forever to get going. Still, it's not badly made and worth a watch.

The Nesting is an open-ended supernatural thriller featuring a convincingly neurotic writer with a bad case of agoraphobia (among other things) who decides to rent a house she finds out in the country that looks suspiciously like the one featured on one of her book covers. At times the film is a reasonably intelligent thriller but it has a tendency to err on the side of goofiness. Many of the characters, despite being likable, are incredibly over the top (the Colonel, handyman Frank, etc) and quite often characters are brought into a scene solely to die because there aren't enough victims on-hand.

The film's ambiguity is largely owed to the fact that the ghost scenes only seem tooccur when the writer is nearby and the others seem to die right after the encounter. That and a later reference would almost suggest that the thing could have been in her head although the attacks look like they're being carried out by an invisible, supernatural assailant.

The writer's character is relatively dull, as are her two apparent romantic interests. Other characters are humorously colorful and bring a lot more to the production but the protagonist really seems to exist to do little other than unconvincingly act scared by various phenomena (oddly not done as well as the agoraphobia, but clever camera-work helped with that) and to unravel a mystery that never quite gets compelling.