“Two Storms”” A Poignant Hour of The Haunting of Hill House
Death haunts us all. It’s why fear and intrigue have continued to surround it: why Shirley Jackson’s novel resonated with those back in 1959 and why Michael Flanagan’s adaptation continues that fascination. For me, I’ve leaned towards the intrigue. Hence why I sat down with my binge-partner (my younger sister) and finished Hill House quite quickly . And while plenty has been said about Flanagan’s approach to Jackson’s work–mixed reviews here and there–for me, Hill House’s biggest payoff doesn’t come in its ending. It reveals itself in it’s halfway point, during Episode Six: “Two Storms”.
In Flanagan’s Netflix adaptation, The Haunting of Hill House centers around the five Crain children. We see their rather damaged adult lives and flash back to one summer during their childhood when they lived in the titular house, before their mother’s death fractured the family. There’s Shirley, who works as a mortician to have a hold on death. Steven, who writes about true ghost experiences yet remains a skeptic. Theo, who holds psychic abilities in her hands, using gloves to determine what she allows herself to feel. Nell and Luke round out the siblings as the twins. A heroin addict, Luke’s back-and-forth with rehab has made him the black sheep of the family. And then there’s Nell, who acts as the family’s anchor, always pulling and struggling to make sure everyone stays together. Prone to depressive episodes, its Nell’s suicide early in the series that pushes over the dominoes towards a somber reunion.
In Episode Six, as the title suggests, a storm rages down on the surviving Crains as they arrive at Shirley’s funeral parlor for Nell’s approaching burial. While the space offers shelter, it also confines them to face a whole other kind of storm. The years since their mother’s death, conflicts both large and small have festered to the point that seeing everyone’s older counterpart together for most of the episode’s runtime, is just as surprising to us as it is to them. The episode’s talked about use of long-takes is then a resource used wisely. Tension and claustrophobia build each second the camera placidly wanders around each of the Crains. While Hill House enjoyed its share of jump scares (mostly very good ones), the scares of Episode Six are far more quiet, coming when we follow a character’s POV and spot a ghostly figure right as they do. The fright isn’t just for us to experience, the character feels it too. Beyond seeing the Crain family annoy, insult, and rage at one another all the while the body of Nell lies in an open casket nearby, perhaps the most unnerving moments occur by seeing just how damaged this family unit has become.
The space of the funeral parlor is certainly a strange space. Its staged as a comfort yet a coldness lingers. It made my sister and myself recall the only death we remember vividly. My great-grandmother passed away when I was in high school; my sister in grade school. Of course, we were far luckier than the Crains. We lost her due to natural causes. However, it didn’t make the funeral home atmosphere any more congenial for my sister or myself. Like the Crains, my family swapped memories. Unlike the Crains, we shared laughs. My adolescent self was confused. Shouldn’t the mood be–well, more brooding?
When I took the opportunity to approach the casket and capture one last look at the face of the woman who I had visited every Sunday, she didn’t look much different. When I kissed her on the forehead, reality came forward. Within less than a few seconds, I felt the cold of her skin and understood that she was truly gone. I kept my reaction limited. My sister who approached after me, took one look and muttered quite loudly: “I think she blinked.” There was no rush to hush her, instead throaty coughs of laughter followed. It made me recall the opening lines of Episode Six, where Theo’s drunken words muttered a blunt truth: “In movies, they say that they look like they’re sleeping. She doesn’t look like she’s sleeping. She looks dead.” My sister and I were seemingly split in this idea. Some of us saw the comfort; some of us saw the finality of it all.
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