'Unknown.' That's the key word - 'unknown.' When we become involved in a supernatural event, we're scared out of our withs just because it's unknown. The night cry of a child, face on the wall, markings, banging, what's that to be afraid of? You weren't threatened. It was harmless, like a joke that doesn't come out... Until we know how it works, we'll continue to cary around this unnecessary burden of fear. -Dr. John Markway (Richard Johnson) in The Haunting (1969)
"Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House has been widely praised as one of the most frightening tales ever written. Robert Wise’s adaptation for the big screen, The Haunting (1963), is considered by a great many scholars and fans to be possibly the scariest movie of all time" (Schneider, 166). It is not a coincidence that this film is widely praised alongside Jackson's novel because it is obvious that Wise and the production team strove to be as faithful to the narrative as possible in their adaptation. Because the film follows the book so closely, there is little value in comparing the differences in plot or dialogue. Instead, there is much to discover in an examination of the mediums of literature and film as well as their effects on the way the narrative is presented and consumed by its audience.
According to Bluestone, "The moment the film went from the animation of still to the telling of stories, it was inevitable that fiction would become the ore to be minted by story departments" (2). Thus the symbiotic relationship between literature and the budding film industry was created. Novels provide material to adapt easily to the screen, and in return the films provide publicity for their inspirations.
However, film versions of novels are forced by their formats to (intentionally or unintentionally) change the way the story is perceived by its audience. For example, consider Eleanor's inner monologue in The Haunting of Hill House (shown at 2:06 in the video below):
In order to include the critical details revealed through Eleanor's inner journey as the narrative progresses, the film had to find a way to show her thoughts to the audience. Schneider suggests that "Wise wisely grants his audience direct access to Eleanor’s thoughts and feelings, relying on the somewhat old-fashioned (but here still effective) technique of voice-over narration mapped onto Harris’s corresponding facial expressions and body language" (172). Voice-over narration as it is seen in this film has been utilized since the beginning of talking cinema, and it changes the way the audience experiences Eleanor's thoughts in various ways. First, the audience may now experience Eleanor's thoughts while seeing her face and body movements, which adds even more expression of her emotions. Another new detail is that "Wise adds an extra, non-diegetic element to the mix. Whenever Eleanor's thoughts are narrated, a soft, airy melody kicks in beneath the words, thereby signaling our entrance (descent, regression) into the depths of her unstable mind" (Schneider, 172). The addition of this eerie music serves as foreshadowing to the insanity that viewers will experience from Eleanor by the end of the film while also helping to create the uncanny atmosphere that has become expected of the genre.
It is notable that with the change in medium, other integral aspects of the narrative may be transformed. As Hutcheon contends, “The move from a telling to a showing mode may also mean a change in genre as well as medium” (45). This is true in the case of The Haunting in that when one takes notes of the few details changed in this film version, they seem to document a shift from the psychological terror of Jackson's novel to Wise's more easily consumed typical horror film. The first glimpse of this metamorphosis is the non-diegetic music that accompanies Eleanor's thoughts, as it provides foreshadowing, an integral detail of horror that would not typically be included in descriptions of terror, which focuses mostly on the present. However, there is one moment of the film that secures its place in the horror genre, namely, the ending. "In The Haunting of Hill House, Eleanor’s death drive is, at least until the “unending, crashing second before the car hurled into the tree,”8 an indisputably self-willed— perhaps even suicidal— act... Wise, almost certainly under pressure to rule out suicide as a possible motive for their protagonist’s demise, make it clear that Eleanor is not trying to kill herself, that the wheel of her car is being controlled by an outside force that she cannot resist, despite her strongest efforts" (Schneider, 170). Because the film could not effectively include Eleanor's moment of clarity before her death (I am really doing it, she thought, turning the wheel... I am really doing it, I am doing this all by myself, now, at last; this is me, I am really really really doing it by myself” [Jackson, 245]) without compromising the momentum and pace of the ending, the act is shown as done to her rather than by her. It is in this definitive moment that the psychological terror of the book is irrevocably altered and shifts to a more exterior horror, though the later film, The Haunting takes this concept even further.
Jan DeBont's The Haunting, released by Dreamworks in 1999, "self-consciously works to separate itself from its literary and cinematic forbears" (Schneider 171). It was never meant to be a shot-for-shot remake of the 1963 version or an accurate representation of the original novel; in fact, the previous works are never mentioned in the extensive interviews included in the special features of the special edition DVD (Schneider, 168). Therefore, the inclusion of this film will serve as an example of adaptations which are made there own, sometimes unrecognizable from the original, artistic pieces and will be more briefly considered. It may be assumed that the various differences between the remake and original films are deliberate, and by briefly considering these changes, we may see why this version is not as widely celebrated as Richard Wise's.
According to Schneider, "One of the biggest differences between the book and the 1999 film is the fact that DeBont’s Eleanor is given no internal monologue, thereby denying the audience direct access to her mind" (171). While Wise chooses to utilize the time-honored voice-over technique to allow the audience to peek into Eleanor's subconscious and experience with her the growing madness caused by Hill House, DeBont omits these critical details, in turn rendering the story irrevocably different from Jackson's narrative. The audience cannot fully understand the extent to which Eleanor's sanity degrades, and therefore may see her as a more sympathetic and reliable character, which eliminates much of the psychological terror and transforms the aforementioned calculated ambiguity and inward focus of the novel into an uncertain, superficial film. Viewers are left with so many questions that, "[they] too are haunted —by questions that can never be answered (Schneider, 174). Without Eleanor's inner monologue, the story is more a poltergeist or supernatural tale than a psychological one, and it seems that this was DeBont's intention, as other artistic changes will reflect.
The image above depicts the moment the group discovers a message on the wall outside the parlor. It is notable that the message has been modified from the original "HELP ELEANOR PLEASE COME HOME" to "WELCOME HOME ELEANOR." Both phrases contain radically different implications, so it is best to examine them individually. According to Schneider, much of the unsettling undertones of the novel's phrase lie in its ability to be interpreted multiple ways: "The absence of punctuation here renders meaning ambiguous: Is the house asking the other members of [Dr. Montague's] party to help Eleanor, or is it asking Eleanor herself for assistance? It is impossible to say for certain" (174). The dual meaning implied in this message stands as a perfect example of the way Jackson utilizes ambiguity to create and perpetuate fear, both in the characters and the readers. While DeBont's preserves the style in leaving out the punctuation, the impact of the ghostly message cannot compare to Jackson's. When changed to a concrete tagline like "WELCOME HOME ELEANOR," the mystery is lost, leaving the audience afraid of the house, but without any of the fear caused by misunderstanding a cryptic, possibly malevolent message.
Eleanor Vance is terrorized by Hill House. (This and following images from imdb.com)
Harlaxton Manor in England used as Hill House for the 1999 film.