House is probably as close as one can get to the feeling of taking hallucinogenic drugs without actually doing so. I imagine that if you were to actually take drugs then watch this film you might wake up a good few years later having been sectioned – the doctors will tell you that you produced some of the most beautiful art known to man; none of it could be kept though because you made it with your own bum products. What is cool about House is that it doesn’t make the foolish mistake of trying to pretend it is real life. Film is this amazing medium where anything you want can happen – you didn’t see Mondrian, for instance, painting what he saw, he painted what he felt, and this is how House feels. Why not have the sound of thunder when doors close? That’s awesome. and why not have a piano with psychedelic keys? That’s awesome too. And why not have a scene where a girl is attacked by futons, has her clothes removed and turns into a doll – filmed partially from below a see through floor so you can see right up her skirt? That sounds literally like what film was made for! From now on lets ask ourselves if films are awesome enough before we question how real they feel, because awesome is what jazz fusion probably felt like in the seventies, which is why half the soundtrack to House is so funky. awesome.


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