Nothing is quite what it seems in the world of The Red House, the fascinating film by Delmer Daves that combines many different genres in its pursuit of some deeper meaning. Whether or not it finds it is another matter entirely, especially when it becomes increasingly clear that something is amiss with the world in which this film takes place. The film focuses on an ordinary farmer and his sister who reside on a remote property in the countryside, on which there is apparently a red house that is a harbinger of evil to anyone who dares venture towards it, the warnings against trying to search for it always resulting in severe punishment for those who allows their curiosity to get the better of them. This is the primary thrust of the film, and the main reason it is such a fascinating document of a particular moment in Hollywood’s fascination with horror – monster films were no longer in vogue (at least not in their purest form), and the advent of very psychologically-complex works of terror were a few years away, meaning that filmmakers had a much bigger task in terms of producing works that could suitably terrify an audience in a way that was creative but not too experimental. As a result, Daves (who was a remarkably decent director across many different styles of filmmaking) constructed something genuinely quite unsettling, a film that carries itself with the earnestness of a story that may not be perfect, but at least seems to be drawn from something quite interesting, if not relatively conventional by modern standards. However, it’s a decent offering in its own right, and a fascinating entry into a canon of horror thrillers that were gradually emerging at the time and establishing the future of the genre.

Genre is one of the more fascinating elements of The Red House – this is not a film that is particularly easy to categorize in any significant way, which seems par for the course for Daves, who was caught somewhere between an auteur and director-for-hire, having the vision of the former, but the ability to produce films at a remarkable pace, some of which were certainly not up to the standards of others. The Red House is somewhere in the middle, mainly because it is one of the rare cases where a film’s most significant strength could also be considered a weakness – the inability to choose a particular genre and remain within it can be seen as either a merit or flaw, depending on how engaged one is with the story and its execution. While this inconsistency may lead to the film being somewhat jagged and uneven, it does create an unforgettable atmosphere where we realize absolutely anything is possible, granted we’re willing to suspend disbelief and just venture through this hideous but captivating world with these characters. The film may not be struggling with its identity, but it doesn’t dwell on any of its ideas long enough to make an impact – each of its 100 minutes feel a bit too rushed, and the shifting tone, while suitably unsettling, takes away from our ability to fully embrace the film, at least in terms of how immersive it is, which is pivotal to such a story. While this seems like a complete dismissal, it is more of an observation – and it is appropriately contrasted by the masterfully sinister tone that encompasses the film.

The idea of a horror film starring Edward G. Robinson, inarguably one of the greatest character actors to ever work in the medium, is almost too enticing to ignore. It only helps that The Red House came while he was at a very peculiar place in his career – he was still at his peak, but was able to branch out and take a few calculated risks, granted they were strong roles in their own right. This film offers him a great opportunity, having the esteemed actor play a villain (a role he was certainly not against, as evidenced by the many despicable characters he has played over the course of his long career), and giving him a role that feels tailor-made to his talents. Congenial but simmering with a creepy charm that keeps us at a distance, Robinson’s performance as the disabled farmer with a chequered past is a fascinating effort. Despite having run the gamut of villainy, playing everything from gangsters to murderers, there is something about Robinson’s performance here that is oddly terrifying – perhaps its how so much of the story revolves around how seemingly ordinary this man is, despite the fact that he clearly has many secrets that he keeps concealed, to the point where the discovery of his past is outright unsettling. The Red House is a film that really just functions as a vehicle for Robinson, who brings his signature everyman quality to the role, and constructs the film around his unique ability to command the screen, which is executed to full effect in this curiously complex film.

The Red House has been mainly forgotten, and it is not difficult to understand the reasons behind its relative obscurity. It primarily serves as a chance for Robinson to boldly try out a new kind of character, and not very much else. However, it’s still a relatively effective film – putting aside its narrative inconsistencies (and the fact that it runs much longer than it needed to, with this kind of story warranting a tidy 80 minutes or less, rather than the full duration, with the film being rather overstuffed and self-indulgent by the time the third-act is underway), there’s a wonderfully irreverent sense of peculiarity that comes through in the combination of a variety of genres, and the director pulls together many disparate ideas to create something quite memorable. The Red House is one of the rare horror films that is executed almost entirely in broad daylight and through wide-open spaces, which is not an easy environment in which to inspire terror in the viewer – but it still somehow succeeds, albeit in a way that is more unsettling than it is outright terrifying. It all amounts to a film that may be an acquired taste, but still gives us the necessary thrills and chills associated with these off-kilter horror films, produced through the scraps of the studio system, who allowed their major stars to appear in these genre films without having their reputations tarnished. Small but impactful, and filled with memorable imagery, The Red House is a solid film that carries itself with a lot more dignity than we’d expect at a cursory glance, one of the main tremendously admirable parts of an otherwise minor film.