Upon reflection, Poltergeist (2015) marks the whimpering deflation of multiple horror genre eras. The 2000s transitioned into the 2010s with a surge of high-profile remakes like Halloween, Friday the 13th, and A Nightmare on Elm Street, but by 2015, attention was shifting gears to the “Trauma Horror,” A24-ification phase à la The Babadook and The Witch. MGM’s production also tried to capitalize on a waning “In 3D” fad that dismally petered out, lazily slapped onto this already underwritten revamp. Gil Kenan’s Poltergeist is, and it pains me to say, the lowest common denominator of in-theater trends as they met their popular demise. Remakes never ceased, of course, we’re just seeing more lesser-known choices like Troma’s The Toxic Avenger or Charles Sellier’s Silent Night, Deadly Night (albeit on its second remake).
I’ve been dreading this entry from the start, since Poltergeist (2015) vanished from memory days after my first watch on opening night. It’s like one of those janky Hollywood bus tours where they promise you’ll see extravagant celebrity mansions. The map circles all the highlights: the clown doll, the man-eating tree, and the static television. But, after the tour is over, there’s nothing of worth to remember. You’ve been duped—treated like a tourist and shuffled out for the next audience of shmucks. The studio wanted a nearly shot-for-shot remake of Poltergeist (1982), and that’s what they got. They didn’t ask for originality, enthusiasm, or quality.
(I swear I love your work on Monster House, Mr. Kenan!)
The Approach
Poltergeist (1982)
After multiple stalled and scrapped continuation ideas for the Poltergeist franchise, reports around 2006 claim the studio wanted a “frame-by-frame” remake of the original. The scariest words any horror fan can hear. Enter Sam Raimi and Robert Tapert of Ghost House Pictures, as well as superproducer Roy Lee (most recently Weapons, Strange Darling, and The Long Walk). These are trustworthy names that inspire hope for future projects, but they weren’t enough to counter the minimalist reinvention and bland CG gruel of Kenan’s vanilla-as-hell redo. Screenwriter David Lindsay-Abaire might have impressed Raimi with his work on Oz: The Great and Powerful, but his treatment for Poltergeist (2015) is more like SparkNotes in disguise than a readaptation.
The names have changed, but the events are the same. Sam Rockwell and Rosemarie DeWitt star as Eric and Amy Bowen, the newest residents of Willow Point. However, Eric isn’t a relator for the cookie-cutter community like Craig T. Nelson’s Steve Freeling. The Bowens are in financial trouble—Eric’s just lost his corporate John Deere gig, Amy’s a stay-at-home mom and struggling writer. That’s the only reason they move into the newly vacant and affordable Willow Point unit, previously owned by a “Technophile.” It’s what gets the family into their haunted house, which the children first discover. Scardy-cat Griffin (Kyle Catlett), bratty big sister Kendra (Saxon Sharbino), and sweet little Madison (Kennedi Clements) encounter a presence in their walls (while their parents attend a dinner party), seemingly tied to the red flag of random static shocks whenever anyone touches the banisters or doorknobs.
Most changes strip the film of personality, down to the sterilized computer graphics replacing that phantasmic feeling of the 80s original. Tobe Hooper (or Steven Spielberg, based on who you believe) establishes a quirky wholesomeness about the Freelings; the Bowens are just another out-of-luck clan against boilerplate paranormal activity. All the colorful ribbons of spirit realm threads and pinkish ectoplasm are traded for muted greys, gunky blacks, and monochrome slop that looks like every other animated ghoul from the 2000s and 2010s. The only real update is Jared Harris as celebrity ghost hunter Carrigan Burke, who turns Zelda Rubinstein’s famous line—”This house is clean”—into a meaningless hashtag.
Does It Work?
Poltergeist (2015)
When you watch both back to back, there’s a very “speedrun“ sensation about Poltergeist (2015). As noted, all the main beats are reused—but Kenan’s theatrical release is just over twenty minutes shorter. The original screenplay takes its time building up to “The Beast’s” evils, whether that’s Carol Anne in her Rams helmet sliding across the floor or the chair pyramid. Lindsay-Abaire’s story barrels straight into the dread of living in a poltergeist’s domain and omits the more lovable moments that bond the Freelings. Cuesta Verde feels lived in, whereas Willow Point is a flimsy, styrofoam backdrop. Potergiest (1982) has this engulfing suburban nightmare-scape atmosphere with fantastic set designs, where its imitator tries to cut corners.
The reworking of “The Beast“ and adaptations of the burial ground’s curse are downplayed in Poltergeist (2015), and special effects are noticeably downgraded. The closet still acts as a portal into an astral plane where souls are stuck in limbo, but what’s contained inside loses all its spectacle. We never get that iconic emergence of the skeletal head with cosmic flare eyeballs, or the full-on “Beast Mode“ that appears before Diane toward the original’s end. Instead, a chunky mass of pixelated figures is shown both inside the closet realm and outside as a threat, but they boast no terrifying identity. Somehow, in 2015, the film’s graphic designers couldn’t improve upon a similar shadow-person blob used back in 1999 for William Malone’s House on Haunted Hill? There’s something so tactile about the hellscapes and demons in Hooper’s film, where Kenan’s feels digitally sanitized.
That said, Rockwell and DeWitt are delightful in the most melodramatic, made-for-sitcom moments. If anything endures, it’s the slice of life sweetness that Rockwell pulls off in the face of irrationally sassy teenagers or his nerdlier son’s aversion to sports (Eric Bowen is an ex-athlete). DeWitt charms as a coddling mother who meets the whimsy of her youngest daughter’s overactive mind. The reworking of Griffin as this petrified coward doesn’t always strike the right chord, and Kendra is your prototypical “OH MY GAWD MOM“ mallrat, but the Bowen parents are the glue that holds everything somewhat together. Like, Rockwell and DeWitt had me full-beam smiling at points—the only light in this otherwise dismal, dark, and dreary disappointment.
The Result
Poltergeist (2015)
Sigh. Poltergeist (2015) is the milquetoast disaster we fear every time there’s another announced remake of a beloved horror staple. Kenan brings nothing to the table that would “justify“ the need for a contemporary Poltergeist. It’s the same movie with less tender love and care put into effects work, character development, and conceptual intrigue. The bones of Hooper’s original are graverobbed and repurposed, but they’re brought back to life by an A.I. Make-A-Horror generator programmed to meet studio expectations. Each recycled bit feels like a reanimated corpse, shambling through the same motions with half the enthusiasm.
Perhaps, if there’s anything to praise, it’s that Kenan’s production doesn’t even attempt to recreate the “Big Bad“ creature effects that shine in their 80s glory. Richard Edlund and Industrial Light and Magic’s BAFTA-winning, Academy-nominated SFX work sets a high bar that the 2015 film shrugs at and strolls right under without any ambition to even reach halfway. We’re stuck waiting for some pièce de résistance, which we think will come when Griffin flies his drone into the alternate dimension, but it’s just hallways of writhing black-and-white body parts. You can spy the kernel of a gnarly idea, but execution leaves us wanting so much more. Mix that with the film’s rather uninteresting usage of “3D“ frights (that subpar 2000s post-production 3D), and we understand why the 80s, in their practical glory, are still praised for their special effects dominance.
Poltergeist (2015) is an uninteresting remake because it’s so uninterested in being different. That’s Kenan’s biggest sin. There’s never a strive to be more than “Poltergeist for a new generation,“ and it fails the test of, “Well, why would I watch this over the original?“ By remaining too rigidly tied to the original film’s narrative, the remake never asserts itself as a viable companion piece or second option. Kenan’s direction feels mechanical, as if he’s assembling a product rather than telling a worthwhile story. There are milestones to meet rooted in familiarity, because that’s what the studio thinks is essential. Give Poltergeist appreciators the movie they know, and they’ll be happy, right?
Horror fans aren’t that gullible, judging by an Audience Score that’s even lower than the Critics Score on Rotten Tomatoes.
The Lesson
Poltergeist (2015)
The “Whys“ that go into making a remake are essential. In Poltergeist (2015), we don’t have answers. It’s a churn-and-burn copycat that lacks a unique perspective and doesn’t benefit from advancements in cinematic technology. If anything, it’s worse because of the choice to favor digital over practical effects. Kenan drains the life out of Hooper’s original and trots out his husk of a remake, praying nostalgia goggles are strapped on tight enough to ignore the many blinding demerits.
So what did we learn?
- Name recognition will only get you so far.
- No matter how many times we saw the failed results of remakes that did nothing to separate themselves from the original, studios still tried again anyway.
- If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em? Eh, that doesn’t even really work here. Kenan is smart enough not to try to outshine certain elements of the original, but there’s no collaboration either.
- A bad horror movie with the title and brand of a far superior original is still a bad horror movie.
It’s a shame because you can see the cast trying to elevate the material. Beyond Rockwell and DeWitt, we get a young Susan Heyward in the background as one of the young investigators before she’d become Sister Sage in Gen V. Jane Adams plays cutely flirtatious with Harris’ television occultist for some sneakily adorable moments as the lead investigator. But, echoing what I just said above, a bad horror movie is a bad horror movie no matter its intentions and connections. I hate to conclude with one last dig at Kenan, but Poltergeist (2015) is a movie without a distinct voice. That, unfortunately, starts behind the camera.