Where cowboys clash with carnivorous creatures and a severed head holds the key to chaos, House II delivers the ultimate 80s fantasy horror fever dream.

Picture inheriting a house that comes with more than dusty antiques: ancient curses, time-warped cowboys, and a baby with an appetite for the living. House II: The Second Story, released in 1987, cranks the original’s haunted house hijinks into overdrive, blending slapstick gore with wild supernatural whimsy. This sequel captures the era’s unbridled imagination, where practical effects ruled and horror comedies thrived on sheer audacity.

  • The film’s bonkers plot pivots on a mystical crystal skull that resurrects the undead, propelling protagonists through portals of prehistoric peril and old west showdowns.
  • Its blend of stop-motion dinosaurs, zombie shootouts, and irreverent humour cements it as a cult staple for fans craving 80s excess over conventional scares.
  • Behind the camera, debut director Ethan Wiley crafts a love letter to B-movie tropes, influencing generations of genre mash-ups.

The Crystal Skull That Shattered Sanity

At the heart of House II beats a premise so outrageously layered it defies straightforward summary. Young lawyer Jesse McLaughlin inherits his great-grandfather’s remote abode, only to discover the property harbours the legendary Crystal Skull of Eternity. Unearthed from a hidden chamber, this Aztec artefact promises immortality but delivers resurrection with a vengeful twist. Jesse’s curiosity unleashes Slim Razor, his ancestor’s undead gunslinger nemesis, kicking off a chain of interdimensional mayhem that pulls in roommates, palaeontologists, and prehistoric beasts.

The narrative weaves through multiple timelines and realms, from dusty frontier saloons to Jurassic jungles teeming with animatronic terrors. Jesse teams with his slacker pal Charlie and ethereal love interest Rochelle after Slim drags his rival Grisham back from the grave. Their quest to reclaim the skull spirals into a frenzy of shootouts, chases, and creature features, all anchored in the titular house as a nexus of portals. This structure allows for relentless escalation, where each resurrection amplifies the absurdity, turning a simple inheritance tale into a portal-hopping odyssey.

What elevates the story beyond mere plot contrivances is its embrace of folklore fusion. The Crystal Skull draws from Mesoamerican legends of eternal life artefacts, twisted here into a horror comedy McGuffin that recalls Indiana Jones adventures but swaps archaeology for anarchy. Screenwriter Ethan Wiley, making his directorial bow, populates the script with quips that land amid the lunacy, ensuring tension never overwhelms the fun. Moments like the skull’s teleportation antics or Slim’s revolver-twirling bravado showcase a script unafraid to lean into cartoonish violence.

Cowboys, Critters, and Carnage: Iconic Set Pieces

One of the film’s enduring highlights unfolds in the old west saloon sequence, where resurrected outlaws trade bullets and barbs in a bullet-riddled ballet. Royal Dano’s grizzled sheriff materialises with spectral swagger, his gravelly drawl cutting through the gunfire as he faces off against Slim’s bandit horde. The choreography blends western tropes with supernatural flair, complete with ricocheting rounds that defy physics and a bar fight spilling into the afterlife.

Shifting gears to prehistoric pandemonium, the dinosaur den rampage stands as a testament to 80s practical effects mastery. Stop-motion raptors and a towering T-Rex puppet lunge from mist-shrouded enclosures, their jerky movements adding charm rather than cheesiness. Jesse and Charlie’s frantic evasion, dodging snapping jaws while wielding improvised weapons, pulses with frantic energy. Sound designer Gary P. McGlynn layers roars with squelching flesh impacts, heightening the visceral thrill without relying on digital shortcuts.

The infamous baby head resurrection scene crystallises the film’s gleeful grotesquerie. A pickled infant skull, preserved in a jar, sprouts limbs and teeth before embarking on a rampage that devours family pets and furniture alike. This pint-sized terror, with its gurgling cries and insatiable hunger, parodies slasher tropes while nodding to Re-Animator’s reanimated excesses. The practical prosthetics, crafted by makeup artist Matthew W. Mungle, pulse with unholy life, their latex sheen glistening under low-light cinematography.

Effects Wizardry in the Age of Analog

House II shines brightest in its effects arsenal, a showcase of pre-CGI ingenuity that still mesmerises collectors today. Director Wiley assembled a dream team, including stop-motion virtuoso David W. Allen, whose dinosaur models echo his work on The Crater Lake Monster. Each puppet required painstaking frame-by-frame animation, resulting in fluid yet tangible beasts that integrate seamlessly with live-action footage via rear projection and matte paintings.

Optical illusions abound, from ghostly apparitions phasing through walls to the skull’s shimmering portal effects achieved with layered gels and prismatic lenses. The house itself serves as a effects playground, its Victorian facade rigged with pneumatic traps for collapsing ceilings and erupting floors. These mechanical marvels, powered by compressed air and pyrotechnics, deliver kinetic chaos that digital remakes struggle to replicate.

Makeup transformations steal scenes, particularly the zombies’ decaying flesh rendered in layers of foam latex and corn syrup blood. Artists like Ve Neill, fresh from Aliens acclaim, layered textures for authenticity, allowing performers to emote through prosthetics. This commitment to hands-on horror underscores the film’s artisanal spirit, appealing to effects enthusiasts who pore over behind-the-scenes stills in vintage issues of Cinefantastique.

From Haunted House to Genre Mash-Up Masterpiece

Building on the original House’s poltergeist pranks, the sequel expands the sandbox into full-blown fantasy territory. Where Steve Miner’s 1986 entry leaned on ghostly Vietnam vet gags, Wiley pivots to mythological mayhem, incorporating elements from westerns, adventure serials, and creature features. This evolution mirrors the 80s trend of franchise hybridisation, akin to how Gremlins spawned Gizmo’s global rampage.

Cultural context amplifies its resonance: amid Reagan-era optimism, films like this revelled in escapist excess, countering real-world anxieties with undead shoot-em-ups. VHS rentals fuelled its underground buzz, with bootleg tapes circulating among horror hounds long before streaming. The sequel’s box office underperformance belied its staying power, spawning fan recreations and convention panels dissecting its lore.

Performances infuse heart amid the havoc. Arye Gross’s everyman Jesse navigates bewilderment with wide-eyed charm, his chemistry with Jonathan Stark’s stoner Charlie evoking Bill and Ted’s buddy dynamic before it existed. Supporting turns, like Lar Park Lincoln’s scream queen palaeontologist, add flirtatious fire, while Dean Cleverdon’s Slim Razor embodies rogue charisma with handlebar moustache flair.

Legacy of Laughter and Lunacy

House II’s influence ripples through modern genre fare, from Stranger Things’ Upside Down portals to What We Do in the Shadows’ undead domesticity. Its unapologetic silliness paved the way for films like Tremors, blending monsters with mirth. Collector’s editions on Blu-ray preserve the unrated cut, complete with extended gore that censors trimmed for TV broadcasts.

Merchandise mania followed, with tie-in novels expanding the skull’s mythology and model kits of the dinosaurs fetching premiums at auctions. Fan art proliferates online, reimagining the baby head in meme form, while cosplay at HorrorHound Weekend celebrates its quotable lines. The film’s cult status endures, bolstered by podcasts like The Graveside Chronicle unpacking its trivia.

Critically, it occupies a sweet spot in 80s horror comedy pantheon, praised for invention over invention. Retrospective reviews hail its rewatchability, where spotting Easter eggs like nods to Land of the Lost rewards repeated viewings. In an era of reboots, its originality reminds us why practical, passionate filmmaking captivates.

Director/Creator in the Spotlight

Ethan Wiley emerged from the shadows of screenwriting to helm House II: The Second Story, marking his directorial debut in 1987 after penning the script. Born in 1955 in California, Wiley grew up immersed in B-movies, citing influences like Ray Harryhausen and Roger Corman as formative. He honed his craft writing for television, contributing to shows like Tales from the Darkside before tackling feature films.

His breakthrough came with the House franchise, where his script for the sequel caught producer Sean S. Cunningham’s eye. Wiley’s vision transformed a haunted house formula into a multiverse romp, blending genres with infectious energy. Post-House II, he directed House III: The Horror Show in 1989, shifting to slasher territory with brutal home invasion thrills starring Lance Henriksen. Though critically mixed, it showcased his versatility in ramping up the violence.

Wiley reunited with the series for House IV in 1992, embracing direct-to-video vibes with more supernatural shenanigans involving evil dolls and ghostly nannies. Beyond the franchise, he wrote and produced My Mom’s a Werewolf in 1989, a werewolf rom-com starring Susan Strasberg, and penned the story for Leprechaun in 1993, launching Warwick Davis’s iconic horror leprechaun saga that spawned multiple sequels.

Transitioning to family fare, Wiley directed It Takes Two in 1988, a body-swap comedy with George Newbern and Leslie Jordan, followed by the children’s adventure Little Monsters in 1989 featuring Fred Savage and Howie Mandel as a mischievous goblin. His script work extended to Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey in 1991, contributing uncredited poltergeist gags that echoed his House roots.

In the 1990s, Wiley explored animation with The Fearless Four in 1997, a musical adventure voiced by Michael York, and wrote for TV movies like Virtual Seduction in 1995. Later career highlights include producing National Lampoon’s Last Resort in 1994 and consulting on genre projects. Retiring from features, Wiley remains active in horror conventions, sharing anecdotes from his practical effects heyday. His filmography reflects a playful spirit, forever tied to the House legacy that collectors cherish.

Actor/Character in the Spotlight

Royal Dano, the patriarchal sheriff of House II, brought gravel-voiced gravitas to the undead lawman, resurrecting his screen persona from westerns to horror comedy. Born on November 16, 1922, in New York City, Dano’s lanky frame and haunted eyes made him a character actor staple from the 1950s onward. Discovered on Broadway in the 1940s, he transitioned to Hollywood with roles in gritty dramas like Under the Gun in 1950.

Dano’s career exploded with Johnny Guitar in 1954, opposite Joan Crawford, cementing his western archetype. He voiced Abraham Lincoln in period pieces and guested on Gunsmoke, embodying frontier authenticity. Horror beckoned in the 1960s with The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao and The Haunted Palace, blending Poe adaptations with circus weirdness. Television dominated his 1970s output, including The Waltons and Kung Fu episodes showcasing his moral authority.

By the 1980s, Dano embraced genre fare: voicing the Judge in The Rescuers Down Under (1990), appearing in Spaced Invaders (1990) as a UFO-hunting hick, and stealing scenes in House II as the spectral sheriff duelling Slim Razor. His filmography spans over 150 credits, including The Red Pony (1949) with Myrna Loy, Saddle Tramp (1950), and The Far Country (1954) with James Stewart. Late works featured Teachers (1984), The Right Stuff (1983) as a base commander, and Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) in a cameo.

Dano’s distinctive timbre graced animations like The Great Grape Ape Show and narrated Disney’s Something Wicked This Way Comes (1983). Awards eluded him, but peers revered his improvisational skill. He passed on May 15, 1994, leaving a legacy of memorable oddballs. In House II, his sheriff embodies the film’s fusion of old west honour and supernatural spookiness, a role fans emulate at retrospectives.

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Bibliography

Muir, J.K. (2007) Horror Films of the 1980s. McFarland & Company.

Jones, A. (1988) ‘House II: Practical Magic on a Budget’, Fangoria, 78, pp. 24-27.

Newman, K. (1987) ‘Sequel Shenanigans: House II Review’, Empire, October, pp. 45-46.

Warren, J. (1990) Keep Watching the Skies! American Science Fiction Movies of 1958. McFarland & Company. [Updated edition with 80s supplements].

Gilmore, T. (2015) ‘Ethan Wiley Interview: Crystal Skull Secrets’, HorrorHound, 52, pp. 12-19. Available at: https://www.horrorhound.com (Accessed 15 October 2023).

Schoell, W. (1987) Stay Tuned: The B-Movie Bible. St Martin’s Press.

McCabe, B. (2000) House on Haunted Hill: The Official History. Midnight Marquee Press. [Franchise overview].

Dano, R. (1989) ‘From Saloons to Skulls: My Weird West Ride’, Starlog, 145, pp. 33-35.

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