Dream House (2011)

Okay. My computer keeps crashing (death to Windows 7) so this is the third time I’ve been reviewing Dream House, so this review will not be pleasant. What I hate the most about Dream House is that you can see the small little chunks of a good film seeping through the cracks of this studio hash of a film. When it first came out, one would hear stories of how Universal took this movie straight out of the hands of Jim Sheridan (the director) and went all Edward Scissorhands in the editing room, slicing what should have been a longer and better film and turning in…this. In short, I see Dream House like one of my closest friends (and my arch-nemesis) sees Contagion, a film that I praised extremely heavily against just about everybody-that it was a great three-hour movie that had a studio throwing scissors at it.

Starring Daniel Craig (who cannot pull off an American accent to save his life, and also, as a personal note, I can never buy him not only as not James Bond, but not as a family man especially, because he looks so angry, that I’m afraid he would just break into a fit and punch a hole in my face-actually, he might be a father-in-law, but not an actual parent or family man) as Will Atenton, a man who, when he quits his (seemingly pretty awesome) job to go and spend more time with his wife Libby (Rachel Weisz) and two kids (with apparently no financial aid what-so-ever), but they all begin to see strange things happening in their new house relating to a recently-released murderer from the house named Peter Ward. Helping Will try to keep his family safe is his neighbor Ann (Naomi Watts). And that is just about the most I can say without spoiling this film, because even when the TRAILER spoils it, I don’t.

Yes, the trailer for this film spoiled the big half-way mark in the middle of the film. When I saw that trailer, I was infuriated, because that was the big twist of the film, and now it’s just there to mock anybody who dared to go see it. And anyway, the film just gets into a completely ridiculous aspect after a while. Dream House is about eighteen different films that were spliced into one semi-coherent story, and most of its negative criticism stems from its terrible marketing and trailer (honestly, I might have liked this film a little bit more without that trailer. So, honestly, I don’t put the fault of how terrible this movie is on the director, the screenwriter, or the actors. I put the fault behind Dream House on the big rotating planet in the sky, on Universal Studios. Adios.
3/10