CAPSULE: HOUSE OF DREAMS (1963)

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

“The house stood alone,
a mere ghost in the midst of the modern, uncaring world.
Within her skeletal fibers secrets remained secluded forever.
The only one who might have revealed them
was now lying in a world where neither time nor flesh existed.”

– quote from Lee Hansen’s novel in House of Dreams

DIRECTED BY: Robert Berry

FEATURING: Pauline Elliott, Robert Berry, Charlene Bradley, Lance Bird

PLOT: An author writing about a haunted house begins having eerily prophetic nightmares.

COMMENTS: A low-budget horror film made by college students, House of Dreams is, understandably, an amateur effort. It’s also rather impressive for what it manages to accomplish with limited resources and a novice crew. It contains way too many uninteresting scenes of marital bickering, broken up by far too few dream sequences. Reverse the proportion of dream to reality and it would be a satisfyingly weird little chiller along the lines of Carnival of Souls (to which it’s often compared). House of Dreams doesn’t quite succeed in sustaining a spooky atmosphere but, in its best moments, it conjures surreal dreamscapes worthy of ‘s Blood of a Poet.

Lee Hansen (Berry) suffers from writer’s block. As he struggles to complete his latest novel, he begins experiencing disturbing dreams. If that wasn’t bad enough, his wife Elaine, a recovering alcoholic wrestling with her own demons, accuses him of neglecting her. She wants to take a vacation to rekindle their romance but he insists on finishing his book first. What seems like a responsible adult decision backfires on him as the subject of Lee’s book, the “old Winninger place,” takes over his unconscious mind.

Filmed on location in an actual rural Indiana “haunted” house owned by the director’s mother, House of Dreams makes good use of a genuinely creepy setting. Each of Lee’s nightmares begins with him driving to the dilapidated house and slowly approaching it from the front walkway. He reluctantly enters the front door which, of course, opens on its own to welcome him. What happens next varies from dream to dream but, amid the usual ghostly tropes, some startlingly original images appear, each nightmare concluding with a frightening final scene.

Creative use of interior architecture and unusual camera angles add to the mood of unease. With a few simple props and generous use of chiaroscuro lighting, Berry and his cinematographer show how less can be more when it comes to crafting suspenseful horror. The minimalist soundtrack, an original score, also takes a less-is-more approach.1 Occasional metronomic tappings add tension to the scenes of everyday life, and menacing electronic organ strains accompany the dream sequences. A scene in which Elaine suddenly appears in Lee’s study, wearing a ghostly white dress, feels all the more unsettling for taking place in complete silence.

As tragedies begin to befall Lee’s family members, he realizes his dreams foreshadow things to come. Unfortunately, the family drama element of the plot isn’t very compelling. The student actors aren’t quite up to the task, and unnecessarily long conversations are a major weakness in the script. Pauline Elliot isn’t bad as Lee’s wife,  and Berry does his best in the lead (a role intended for a professional actor who ended up declining the part). As director, actor, writer, and editor, Berry demonstrates a solid grounding in the fundamentals of storytelling. Footage of the Winninger place, including shots of the dramatic staircase and the overgrown well, periodically intercuts the domestic moments, illustrating the house’s growing hold over Lee and his relatives. White roses, briefly glimpsed in the opening act, recur throughout, a symbol whose full significance isn’t revealed until the very end.

Eventually, Lee decides to investigate the Winninger house in real life—or is he already trapped inside the nightmare? His penultimate foray plays out like all the other dream sequences. Lee drives to the house, he hesitates on the walkway, and the front door hangs open, taunting him to enter. Will Lee escape the house’s strange power or has he already become its final victim? Fans of low-budget ’60s horror will find House of Dreams worth a visit.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…an arduous regional horror, shot for peanuts in Decker, Indiana by a group of film students in 1963. Like the long-lost sibling of Herk Harvey’s altogether more interesting Carnival of Souls (1962) this throws any established notions of narrative and logic to the wind but, unlike Harvey’s enduring diamond in the rough, fails to engage the hapless audience.”–Kevin Lyons, The EOFFTV Review 

1An alternate score written in 2019 received Berry’s approval, and the latest Blu-ray release from Vinegar Syndrome/Bleeding Skull includes both.

House of Dreams [Blu-ray]

  • Region Free Blu-ray

New starting from: 36.99 $

Go to Amazon

CHANNEL 366: THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS (2023-2026)

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

RecommendedWeirdest!

DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: Voices of Lizzie Freeman, Alex Rochon, Michael Kovach

PLOT: A young woman arrives in a strange alternate reality.

Still from The Amazing Digital Circus

COMMENTS: Glitch Productions was founded in 2017 in Sydney, Australia, as an independent studio specializing in animated web series. “The Amazing Digital Circus,” its latest effort, is the show that stands out the most from the crowd, at least at first glance, thanks to its zany art style. But there are many layers hidden underneath the visuals.

The plot revolves around an alternate digital reality, where trapped souls live in cartoon bodies under the surveillance of a giant mouth with eyes named Caine. None of them remembers their real name, and they are given new ones as soon they appear in this place. The newest arrival, a clown-like woman Caine names Pomni, is the story’s main focus. Her point of view is our entry point to get to know this strange realm and the people that inhabit it.

Every once in a while Caine gives a nonsensical quest to the trapped souls, like facing bandits in a fantasy kingdom or working in a fast food restaurant, as a distraction so that they can forget that there is no escape from their digital hell. More often than not, these quests prove excruciating, playing out like a parody of tropes of reality TV shows or video games. There is a mystery-box aspect to the world, too, with possible existentialist undertones as our characters can’t stop attempting to escape. Imagine TV shows like “Lost,” “From,” or “The Prisoner” combined with Looney Tunes animation and you get a sense of the style.

The best comparison for this show in its entirety would be “Dispatches From Elsewhere” (2020); the way “Digital Circus” develops The Matrix‘s ideas while simultaneously putting an emphasis on character development recalls “Dispatches” in cartoon form. In fact, character development is the most important part of this adventure, what makes it relatable and meaningful in the end, as our heroine and her newfound friends find meaning in their connections and companionship by caring for each other—with some exceptions.

While it may seem at first that every character fits an archetype, they gradually reveal more depth. Through the tasks Caine gives them and their intimate private interactions, their personalities and worldviews come to the forefront—as well as their deepest fears, insecurities, and secrets. They may not remember their names from their previous life, but they recall events that happened to them and retain their sense of self; for the time being, at least, because in this world there is the threat that they will eventually be consumed by despair and become “abstracted,” transforming into an amorphous mass —the digital equivalent of dying.

In the end “Digital Circus” is a distorted mirror of real world anxieties, especially those of young adults in their 20s. The series is not afraid to tackle dark issues regarding interpersonal relationships and family dysfunctions. The dreamcore-inspired aesthetic and sci-fi twists are just the surface. Underneath that are real human tales waiting to be shared.

“The Amazing Digital Circus” streams exclusively on Netflix; it was a big enough hit that the final episode was briefly released to theaters in 2026.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…combines some surreal CGI animation with some sharply funny dialogue and characters that quickly become more than just the avatars they’re assigned in the digital RPG they’re stuck in.”–Joel Keller, Decider

POD 366, EP. 173: PERFECT BLUE AUDITION

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

Audio link (Spotify)

YouTube link

Discussed in this episode:

Audition (1999): Read the Canonically Weird entry! The 4K UHD version from Arrow gives us the excuse to discuss ‘s best movie (if not his weirdest). Buy Audition.

Perfect Blue (1997): Read the Canonically Weird entry! ‘s debut brought psychological depth and surrealism to anime; now in a 4K steelbook. Buy Perfect Blue.

WHAT’S IN THE PIPELINE: 

Next week on Pod 366 we will talk to about his 2025 The Rocky Horror Picture Show documentary Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror. In written content, Michael Diamades goes to Netflix’s just-completed “The Amazing Digital Circus”, Enar Clarke visits Indiana’s House of Dreams (1963), Shane Wilson devotes a column to Rows (2015), and Gregory J. Smalley takes a trip with The Napa Boys (2025). Onward and weirdward!

CHANNEL 366: DON’T HUG ME I’M SCARED (2011-2016, 2022)

DIRECTED BY: Becky Sloan, Joseph Pelling, Baker Terry

PLOT: Red Guy, Yellow Guy, and Duck find their days consistently interrupted by anthropomorphized objects in their home and uninvited guests who insist on teaching them lessons about life via song, dance, and increasingly unsettling interactions.

Still from "Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared"

COMMENTS: There’s a reason that children’s television is, on the whole, weird. After all, there are two competing, even contradictory goals at work: these shows often want to teach young people some valuable life lesson (the alphabet, how the mail is delivered, treating your friends with decency and respect), but hold the audience’s notoriously wandering attention while doing so. All those talking aardvarks and talking Blue Heelers and talking magical unicorns are handwaving determined to steal a child’s focus with any degree of strangeness necessary. Landmarks of the genre going back decades—“Captain Kangaroo,” “Kukla, Fran and Ollie,” “Pee-Wee’s Playhouse” —have all danced along the line where oddness tips over from charming to off-putting. Even the grand poobah of them all, “Sesame Street,” had to overcome initial concerns that its central conceit—humans and puppets living side-by-side—would be incomprehensible to children. Obviously, the kids figured it out.

Any success inspires parody, satire, and critique. Children’s TV has certainly earned its fair share, as can be seen in the stressful adulthood of the characters in Avenue Q, the aggressive surrealism of “Wonder Showzen,” and the oppressive nightmare of today’s subject, “Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared.” This British web-series-turned-TV-show is perfectly captures the way that just living in the world can feel like unavoidable oppression. The machinations of people who are venal, stupid, or both conspire against “Don’t Hug Me”‘s characters, through the lens of two puppets and a guy with a crimson mop for a head who just want to get through the day. For anyone who remembers childhood as an endless series of grownups trying to kill your fun with their wondrous tales of adulthood and education, this is a show that sees you clear as day.

“Don’t Hug Me” began as a web series, and it establishes its theme—the world is fundamentally cruel—right away. In the very first short, a singing sketchpad shows up to share the wonders of thinking with boundless imagination, and after engaging the trio, she immediately proceeds to shut down their creative efforts with helpful corrections like “Green is not a creative color.” And there’s always room for things to get worse. A collection of creatures trying to describe love pile on more and more parameters and qualifiers, culminating in the revelation that they worship a giant idol and feed it gravel. An interest in food spurs on a storm of questionable nutrition advice, recommending aspic and referring to vegetables as “soil food.” These Continue reading CHANNEL 366: DON’T HUG ME I’M SCARED (2011-2016, 2022)

Celebrating the cinematically surreal, bizarre, cult, oddball, fantastique, strange, psychedelic, and the just plain WEIRD!