This morning I saw Winchester, starring Helen Mirren and Jason Clarke.
Sarah Winchester (Mirren) is a grieving widow who uprooted her east coast life to (literally) rebuild in San Jose, California. She is continually (as in, 24-hrs. a day, 7 days a week) constructing more rooms for her mansion to satisfy the spirits of those killed with the firearms her husband's company manufactured. The year is 1906 and the company (which she partially inherited following her husband's death) would like to get rid of her. Dr. Price (Clarke) is sent to stay with her and prove she's mentally unfit.
Clarke is a favorite of mine from his Brotherhood days, and it goes without saying that Mirren is always perfection. But this film was a huge disappointment despite their best efforts to save a weak script.
Aside from the possessed grand-nephew and some "gotcha" ghoulish appearances, this doesn't feel much like a horror film, or even a thriller. Furthermore, the actual property (which, full disclosure: I have visited) is incredibly captivating, but most of what we see of it here are dark hallways, nails spitting out of walls and slammed doors. I was also let down by the San Francisco earthquake scene, expecting far more supernatural elements at play.
Though many of the facts are correct in the film (the house was severely damaged in the quake of 1906; Sarah did continually build; niece Marion really existed) the fictional story they created to harness the essence of the Winchester history falls flat.
As I sat and watched, I imagined how I would have re-written it (perhaps cold open with a seance; maybe bring to life the wheelbarrow man ghost that supposedly haunts the house present-day; show a present-day tour and flashback). So many possibilities—and the fact I had time to concoct them as I sat there means my boredom was high.
You'd be better off watching a documentary about the property. Those actually have the power to spook you.