Pyromaniac

If you like down and dirty feel bad movies like Maniac or Nightmare, Don't Go in the House is more of the same. It's less gory and explicit, but the mean spiritedness and ick factor is still present throughout.

It's well made with a great central performance by Dan Grimaldi as the mother obsessed serial killer who likes to lure women back to his house, tie them up, and torch them with a flamethrower.

It doesnt get much more grim than Dont Go in the House folks. And I'm not just talking about Donny Kohler's choice in music "When we get home....when were alone" . There is something profoundly artistic about this film whether it be intentional or not. The bleakness and raw style,or lack of style in definetely not for everyone. here is no safe cutaways to humor,just gritty.realistic film.

Crackles,pops,film grain and all. DGINH runs a little long in the tooth but for me it just adds to the realism. Its interesting to hear that Tarantino backs this one up. One last thing,If you think this movie is a hack job and that no one came out of this ,you'd be wrong. Good ol' Donny Kohler(Dan Grimaldi) went on to fame in Law and Order and the Sopranos.

I first saw this in the late 80s on a vhs.

Revisited it recently.

Donny keeps hearing his dead mother's dominating voices as the body of his mother is still kept in the house a la Psycho style.

Donny, inspite of being an introvert, somehow succeeds in picking up females n is able to lure them in his house.

Donny's house is a brilliant piece of location and adds an eerie sense.

Coming to the bad points, the movie is very slow. Nothing happens in the first 50 mins or so n most of the killings r offscreen.

The end too is a big meh.

What happens to the poor priest is never shown.

The movie has zero tension n zero suspense.

One can call it a poor man's version of Psycho n Deranged.

As a big fan of horror I really liked this flick and it made me wonder whatever happened to these kind of movies. Horror films used to be disturbing and always pushing the limits of what people can handle. Now all it seems to be about is impressing 14 year old teenyboppers with these hyped flicks like Scream and Urban Legend. Bring back the movies like Don't Go in the House, I Spit on Your Grave, and Maniac and keep the teenybopper trash.

Yes, DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE seems to be another lurid cinematic adaptation of a real-life serial killer's exploits. The first time I saw this film I said to myself "Now where have I heard about someone burning fetching young ladies to death in an asbestos insulated room before?" and the answer is Herman Mudgett, aka H.H. Holmes, Chicago's twisted "Torture Doctor" who murdered anywhere between 20 and 200 people in a self-designed townhouse on 63rd Street during the 1890s. Mudgett built a maze of false corridors, secret passageways, trap doors, sound proof and air proof killing rooms and dug vats for quicklime acid baths & a crematorium incinerator in the basement of his 3 story castle of horrors, complete with fake battlements and windows covered with sheets of steel. The most famous of which was an asbestos lined room with gas jets where he would confine victims and watch them being burnt to cinders for kicks.

It is perhaps from those basic elements that the brain trust responsible for DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE found their inspiration for a story about a steel mill worker who goes on a killing spree after his mother -- who cruelly abused him as a child -- drops dead in her sitting chair. Character actor Dan Grimaldi is very well cast as Donny Koehler, a mommy obsessed loser and budding psychopath still bearing the scars of his childhood trauma where mom attempted to "burn the evil out" of his soul by holding his bare arms over a lit gas stove, which of course created a Freudian fascination with fire, his relationship with women, his mistrust of authority figures and religion. It doesn't quite answer the question of how he became interested in disco music but what the hell, that was the fad of the time. These days he'd be obsessed with Britney Spears maybe, which IMHO would make for an even more frightening portrait of insanity.

Several things about this movie actually click and make it a rewarding ride for fans of 1980s era slasher horror, the first being the setting. This is one of the most bleak and dismal looking horror movies ever, set on Long Island during a cold, inhospitable looking February that is actually quite unique: Most slasher movies are set during the warmer months of the year to afford the cast to walk around half naked in the great outdoors. By contrast this film is set within dank, claustrophobic interiors, specifically the wonderfully creepy, empty and rapidly dilapidating house that Donny grew up in, which is photographed from an interesting vantage point to make it look all the more isolated from the rest of the world. There are no neighbors to overhear the screams of anguish from Donny's victims, who's complete lack of hope for rescue is probably more disturbing than their on screen fates.

Much ado is rightfully made about Donny's first murder of a full-breasted young florist he tricks into coming home with him after wrapping up a get well bouquet for his putrefying dead mother. She is knocked unconscious, stripped nude, hung by her wrists, doused with gasoline and lit on fire. The sequence is convincingly staged but again what struck me about the murder wasn't how graphic it was so much as that she has utterly no hope of salvation and is merely present in the story as someone to suffer horribly for the benefit of the camera. Then there is the scene in the men's shop where Donny is outfitted for a night on the town in a disco ensemble suit that would have made John Travolta envious. Others have questioned it's relevance to the story and my thought is that it depicts just how isolated Donny is from the world around him. And reflects the filmmakers' disdain for the whole disco era subculture.

Aside from the young florist no characters in this story are sympathetic, there are no good guys and even the local minister ends up a charred reminder of how the community failed Donny by turning a blind eye to his mother's cruelty. Next time you are waiting in line at the grocery store and some pathetic loser starts screaming at their misbehaving kid tell them to knock it off lest the young urchin someday grow up to buy an asbestos suit and flamethrower. Psychopathic mommy obsessed losers are a dime a dozen and you might just end up saving the life of a hot young florist with pert nipples. We need all of them we can get.

6/10