Terror in a Familiar Locale

Ti West’s “The Innkeepers” is a nice horror flick. That means that we’re not talking gallons of blood, severed limbs, gratuitous nekkidity, no plot getting in the way of the story and a choir chanting gibberish Latin. Which is a shame, sort of, because it would have been fun to watch the audience at the Warner Theatre reacting to drive-in stuff in an Art Deco setting. West, who shot much of “House of the Devil” in Lime Rock a few years ago, made this film entirely in Torrington. So, the Yankee Pedlar Inn is closing down, the story here goes, and the skeleton staff, Luke (Pat Healy) and Claire (Sara Paxton) don’t have much to do on the final weekend except drink Schlitz and try and get a gander at the hotel ghost. West engages in a lot of foreplay — there are several gags that make the audience jump, but most of them, until the very end, are strictly of this world. It’s a clever idea, and keeps the viewer on edge. The slacker dialogue is amusing, and so is Kelly McGinnis’s turn as Leanne, the washed-up TV actress now making a living as a New Age healer who drinks vodka out of airline miniatures and gets funky with the crystal pendulum. Paxton is the star; her Claire character is alternately plucky, confused, coltish, winsome and asthmatic. Healy’s Luke is convincing too, as the underachieving hipster, right down to the unfortunate hair. The end is a bummer if you’ve about half fallen for Claire. During a quick Q and A session with West afterward, a guy asked why Claire was killed off, and not the McGinnis character. West said, “As much as you’ve fallen for her, she had to go. It’s a horror film. “Maybe in the sequel we’ll kill off Leanne.” The film is technically excellent. The special effects are used sparingly and wisely, and for the cineastes, there’s a Hitchcock quote near the beginning (“Vertigo” is recalled with a shot down the center of the inn’s stairs). The audience at this première was treated to some confusing red carpet action, with women in black dresses posing, although I couldn’t figure out who they were. And about a half hour through the picture there was a false fire alarm, which pushed everybody’s pulse up. As for the film, there was more audience reaction than the Warner’s accustomed to, with smarty-pants remarks and the occasional bellow for a focus adjustment. Not quite your mid-week inner-city matinee of “Friday the 13th in 3D” circa 1987, with raucous cheering for the eyeball-popping scene and a pervasive odor reminiscent of the bazaars of Marrakesh, but the beer and wine was definitely flowing in the VIP section, where I, as a powerful and influential film critic, found myself. Outside, the block was closed to traffic, the line to get into the Yankee Pedlar was out the door, and there was even a searchlight, which was visible in the sky on Route 4, coming down the hill from Goshen.  A lot of men turned up in coats and ties. Very big-time. Mayor Ryan Bingham delivered a few Chamber of Commerce-y remarks before the show, and even made a funny when he said that due to budget cuts they didn’t have a key to the city for West, and gave him a lapel pin instead.

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