While suffering from glandular fever at home and confined to her bedroom, 11 year old birthday girl Anna Madden draws a house in her sketch pad. Bizarrely the house comes to be real in her dreams when she falls asleep. So upon waking she starts to draw other things to go with the house, including a boy at the window (Marc). However, things start to turn bad when another character she draws enters the Paperhouse.
Four years earlier than Paperhouse we had seen A Nightmare On Elm Street open up a can of worms for the horror movie dream aspect. By the time of Paperhouse's release, the format was already looking tired as two sequels to Freddie's jolly had been and gone and a wave of imitators had blighted our screens (anyone remember the awful Dream Demon for instance?). This may go some way to explaining why Paperhouse, a brilliant, and hauntingly poetic movie, upped and vanished from the radar. Its director is Bernard Rose, who four years later would direct Candyman and put him in the shop window of the horror faithful. Thus prompting many to seek out some of his earlier work and getting Paperhouse talked about again. Not everyone took to it, for it's not overtly horror in name. It contains genuine moments of terror, but its themes and atmosphere are more in keeping with something like Pan's Labyrinth than with Candyman, Candyman, Candyman.
Paperhouse is open to interpretation by the individual viewer, it toys with ideas such as what is the reality here? Is Anna in limbo, is it coincidence that she is sick? There's a number of issues that on the surface are not obviously addressed, but can be if you open up to it and use a thought process. Don't get me wrong this is not a complex movie, thoughtful, even cheekily daring, but it's not a cranial head scratcher that doesn't make sense. In fact, rightfully so, the wonderful breath holding ending ties up any loose ends, but this again is if you have invested fully in the movie. There's psychological aspects to it as well, Anna is about to enter puberty, a notoriously "difficult" time, not just for the child, but for the parents too, notably the father of girls. This appears, in my line of thinking, to be very much at the heart of Paperhouse. Certainly the father/daughter axis is the crux of the piece, but metaphors and some scenes beg for analysis. In tone it's easy to draw a line to two other undervalued "horror" movies from the 80s, The Lady In White and The Company Of Wolves so fans of those film's should definitely check this out. What you or I make of Paperhouse is what makes the movie so special, answers to questions are not given, just hints. It's fine writing from Matthew Jacobs who adapts from Catherine Storr's novel Marrianne Dreams.
The film also looks terrific thanks to production designer Gemma Jackson. The two-story house and its isolated grassy surrounds are suitably creepy, but as Anna starts to add things to her drawing, this in turn lets Jackson work her magic. The contents of the house range from the eerie (ice-cream maker/radio) to the poetic (a room full of lighted candles), while a blue bicycle is almost abstract in its intricacy. It's a small cast featuring Charlotte Burke as Anna, Glenne Headly as her Mother, Ben Cross as the father, Elliott Spiers as Marc and Gemma Jones plays Dr. Sarah Nicols. This was the only film Burke ever made, which is sad because she's fabulous. Starting out bratish and borderline annoying, the character quickly pulls us on side as her confusion gives way to a grasp of the situation; that in turn makes her resourceful and brave, thus fully involving the audience. That's testament to Burke's performance and marks it down as one of the better turns from a British child actor.
More fantasy than horror but definitely evocative and haunting. A real smart little movie begging to be seen more now in these post Pan's Labyrinth days. 9/10