Seldom have the opening moments of a movie been as telling – and as accidentally foreboding – as in “There’s Someone Inside Your House,” Patrick Brice’s adaptation of Stephanie Perkins’s Y.A.
horror novel. The very first thing that happens, after the camera settles on a picturesque view of a Midwestern farmhouse, is a dumb jolt: a pickup truck coming into the frame, its roaring engine cranked as loud as possible, the cheapest imaginable jump scare.
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