Halloween pick: The Innkeepers

The horror genre seems to have devolved into a tiresome stream of gory torture schlock, contrived self parody and pseudo documentary realism. Even the documentary-style subgenre has begun to parody itself. So when a film comes along that is genuinely enjoyable to watch, it's something worth mentioning. In a field overstuffed with Calvin Klein underwear models, overly stereotyped geeks and nerds and perky-breasted bimbos, The Innkeepers is a revivifying gulp of cold, pure mountain water. It's far from perfect. The story is a bit thin and predictable and the ending decidedly dissatisfying, but the characters are so delectable, the dialogue so genuine and the humor so disarming that one cannot help but enjoy the ride no matter where it is going.

The Innkeepers tells the story of two ne'er-do-wells, Luke (Pat Healy) and Claire (Sara Paxton), who work at a failing hotel that will soon be closing its doors. Luke is a would-be ghost hunter who claims to have seen the spirit that haunts the hotel, a woman who, after being jilted by her fiance, hangs herself in the hotel. The story goes that the owners of the inn, fearing bad publicity from the suicide, hid the body in the cellar (they refer to it as a basement in the film, but, really, it's a cellar) for three days. Naturally, her restless spirit continues to haunt the hallways of the Yankee Pedlar Inn. Zoinks!

On its surface, The Innkeepers is a traditional, even hackneyed, ghost story. The events—and the tale of jilted bride—unfold rather predictably. But what makes the film enjoyable has nothing to do with the ghost story or even the haunting. It's the two main characters. As long as they're onscreen doing something, anything, Healy and Paxton keep the audience tuned in and fully engaged. Luke and Claire are two of the most likable characters I've ever seen in a horror film, and their interactions are both genuine and hilarious. Claire is lovably dorky and aimless, while Luke is jaded and apathetic. While serving the few guests staying at the inn, Luke works on his web page devoted to hauntings. It's the typical, cheap-looking, home page that proliferated back in the '90s, but Claire praises him for it nonetheless.

Perhaps because of its context within a haunted-house horror film, the antics of the two hotel employees are entertainingly goofy. The Innkeepers feels at first like it's aimed at a younger audience. There's a Goonies kind of geekiness in Claire and Luke that draws us in. I stopped the film once just to confirm that it came with an R rating. Amid the comedy—sometimes even slaptick humor—I couldn't quite believe that this was, in fact, a horror film with an R rating.

In what is one of the funniest scenes I've ever witnessed, Claire struggles to haul a heavy, leaking bag of garbage out to the dumpster. It is laugh-aloud funny because her behavior is so true to human nature. It's funny because it's real. In the same circumstances, I behave in exactly the same way. And I applaud the filmmaking genius that had the patience to allow that dumpster scene to play out to its fullest. It would have been so simple to make it a quick ha-ha laugh and then move along with the overall goal of scaring the audience. Instead, the slaptick continued until finally reaching the inevitable conclusion. It's for scenes like this that I appreciate The Innkeepers so much in spite of its shortcomings as a horror film. In so many ways, it defies the common sense of the genre.

The humor, naturally, belies the horror that is to come, and we know it. It's easy to fall into the trap of enjoying the inanity and banality that make up two main characters' lives and forgetting that something scary is going to happen. The movie slowly eases into the haunted house story, and Claire's ghost hunting almost feels like a subplot. The audience knows, of course, that Claire will come into contact with the infamous spirit stalking the Yankee Pedlar. Once the wheels are set in motion, the spooky ride barrels forward through both suspenseful and comedic moments on its way to an ultimately disappointing ending.

Luke and Claire play host to three different guests along the way (well, maybe four or five if you count the ghosts and bumps in the night): an estranged wife and her child, spiritualist and former TV actress Leanne Rease-Jones (Kelly McGillis) and a mysterious old man. McGillis is rock solid as the cigarette-smoking, vodka guzzling former TV star, at once sporting an air of royalty while becoming something of a confidant to Claire.

Rease-Jones plays an important role in helping Claire communicate with the Inn's supernatural resident(s). Rease-Jones reveals to her that there are actually three spirits present at the Inn and warns her to stay out of the basement. Once the warning is issued, the audience knows very well that Claire is going to end up in the basement, and, in fact, that's where the climax of the film  takes place.

Where the film falls short is in leaving too many loose ends. The audience is left to wonder why it ended the way it did. What was the purpose of that climactic scene? What are the motives that drove it to its conclusion? We can speculate about the identity of the old man. Oh, it seems pretty obvious on the surface, but if one accepts that conclusion, then it makes the climax all the more puzzling. What is Claire's role in all of this? The ending could be a contrivance designed to avoid the predictable outcome dictated by the hackneyed ghost story. It's easy for the audience to see the Scooby-Doo climax coming, so to ensure that doesn't happen, the plot takes a different direction and is allowed devolve into something else, something we've come to expect in the horror genre. I'm speculating here because I can't fathom much about why it turns out the way it does. It's not that I want the Scooby-Doo ending; I just want something that makes sense and resolves the conflict central to the ghost story. I can speculate much about what it really means, but that's all it is—speculation. And if it means what I think it does, making the "jilted lover" something of a red herring, then the audience needs more explanation about what's going on, especially in terms of Claire's role.

The pattern is in place, the clues are there, but the film ultimately fails to connect the dots. While I can appreciate that on one level, I find the ending dissatisfying. I am obviously avoiding revealing any details that would spoil the story, but the solution to the seeming mystery is certainly open to discussion. Something is missing here that is essential to the story's realizing its full potential. I'd love to see the filmmakers go back and do a director's cut that fills in the gaps and completes the story.

Many viewers will no doubt judge this film harshly for its shortcomings. I found myself pleasantly surprised by how thoroughly enjoyable the movie is in spite of its faults. The characters, dialogue and humor are just plain fun to experience. Some people will say there's too much humor for this to be taken seriously as a horror film, but it certainly does have its suspenseful moments. If nothing else, the suspense works because it contrasts so well with the humor. I cannot say enough about how much I love these characters. Claire and Luke will live forever in my mind as two of the most memorable characters ever to step onto a horror set. If the movie were ever spun off into, say, a TV series with Paxton and Healy reprising their roles, I'd tune in every week regardless of the quality of the story just see these two acting their parts.

The Innkeepers may not satisfy the desire for the typical nail-biting, gory thriller, but it is nonetheless highly enjoyable. And, yes, it is currently streaming on Netflix, so add it to your Instant Queue.