Review: THE HOME is a Gory Yet Unsatisfying Horror Misfire

James DeMonaco’s elder care thriller The Home feels like another movie’s in-universe fake watch. Like, if in a Scream sequel, teens exclaimed, “Shut up, I’m trying to watch the Pete Davidson old folks horror flick!” It’s predictable yet outlandish; a narrative that operates by presuming you know what’s coming and that doesn’t matter. DeMonaco and co-writer Adam Cantor deal in the horrors of twilight years and Boomerisms, but commentaries get lost in a jump-around tale of asylum frights under the guise of senior care. Where The Rule of Jenny Pen is a more psychological takedown of aged paranoias, The Home opts for gruesome midnighter wackiness—whether intentional or not.

Davidson stars as Max, a foster-kid slacker who can’t keep himself out of trouble. The death of his brother Luke weighs heavily years later, driving him down a path of torched potential. After his latest vandalism arrest, Max’s connected father (Couper, played by Victor Williams) strikes a deal for four months of community service as the super at Green Meadows Retirement Home. Dr. Sabian (Bruce Altman) welcomes Max into the community, as do its grey-haired inhabitants, but something isn’t right. All Max has to do is stay out of trouble and off the 4th floor, but after some snooping, the mysteries of Green Meadows become too unsettling to ignore.

It’s a familiar role for Davidson (which, mind you, I typically enjoy). He’s a loner, a disappointment to some, and has a blasé attitude about life in general. The problem is, he’s typically typecast as such in dramedies—not traditional horror fare. The Home feels caught between the goofball comedian’s typical antics and straightforward horror thrills, at odds with its own sincerity. The vibe is “anger” and “oppression,” but it’s hardly something darkly humorous like The Hunt. Davidson’s jokey one-liners or hazy ambivalence to mounting dread land awkwardly under dire tonal conditions, only undercutting his dramatic presence.

To be clear, DeMonaco never takes the story too seriously. In terms of senior citizen horror films, from Bingo Hell to Cockneys vs Zombies, The Home aligns with Axelle Carolyn’s The Manor in terms of mythology and forever youthful themes. As Max investigates Green Meadows’ dank basements and sterilized containment rooms, we ponder theories of both government conspiracies and folkloric, all-healing nectars. There’s a clear intention to compare lives wasted to those who don’t want their time to end, muddying points about making the most of whatever existence we’re granted. Immortality is a curse, but so is negligent living, yadda yadda. It’s a common setup, but don’t expect Green Meadows to house any answers.

Granted, answers don’t automatically equal success. Plenty of filmmakers have entertained us with the obscure and unreachable, drowning in existential doom. That’s not The Home, which is scattershot in its execution. John Glover and Mary Beth Peil are part of a silver-haired cast who bring an air of distrust and debauchery to Green Meadows, yet the narrative’s clear line forward renders these perversions of retirement homes limp. Max’s investigation dares to be freaky, but overuses “surgical horror” dream sequences, and injects random obstacles—for example, a blurry-faced video chatter—like square pegs into round holes. DeMonaco’s intentions are plain as day; the film’s roadmap is outlined in neon, yet somehow everything feels so out of place in the moment.

What does work, with emphasis, is a bevy of gore effects. The Home is an unapologetically crimson-colored affair, from snapped limbs to ocular operations that’ll make your skin crawl. Whether or not the film earns its vengeful ending, it’s a ferocious bloodbath that coats Davidson in a thick film of red special effects liquids. DeMonaco doesn’t skimp on violence despite adages about respecting older generations, and everything from bone snaps to intestinal strangulation looks pretty damn good. Should my review rating be solely based on bodies impaled by iron fences or axes to the groin, it’d be much higher. DeMonaco’s SFX team deserves the praise.

Unfortunately, The Home is the sum of many underwhelming parts. It feels like an imitation horror film, from television-y cinematography to ideas that are thrown at the wall in the hope that something sticks. Davidson’s trying something new, but the material just isn’t tight enough for him to shed his signature sense of humor, making certain scenes feel like they could turn satirically funny when we should be sensing urgency and danger. Is there such a thing as a synthetic horror film, familiar in likeness but merely a hollow duplication? For the talent involved, The Home can safely be considered a disappointment.

Movie Score: 2/5