The Home 2025 Movie Review
If there’s one thing that the horror community seems to agree on, aside from the fact that clowns are evil and basements are haunted, it’s that senior citizens are not to be trusted. Framing the elderly as menacing, deranged monsters has become an increasingly common (and somewhat problematic) trope in the genre, and now The Purge’s James DeMonaco is coming forth with his own disastrous, albeit unique, take on senescence. Hitting all the classic horror clichés, including — but not limited to — freaky masks, creepy statues, and spontaneous retirement home orgies, The Home touts itself as a haunting psychological thriller but mostly exists as a sluggish star vehicle for Pete Davidson, strangling the listless SNL alum with lazy writing and bloody entrails.
Written by DeMonaco and Adam Cantor, The Home feels more like a weird Saturday Night Live sketch than a gripping horror flick. When Davidson’s Max is arrested for acts of climate change-inspired graffiti, he is sentenced to four months of community service as the new superintendent at the Green Meadows retirement home. Even more puzzling than Max’s passion for environmentalist vandalism is law enforcement’s choice to give a felon access to every room in an old folks’ home, but the madness doesn’t end there.
When he discovers Green Meadows’ sinister intentions and ventures into the home’s mysterious fourth floor, the lines between fiction and reality blur as Max becomes entangled in a confusing conspiracy and is left fighting for his life against nefarious residents. Familiar faces like John Glover, Bruce Altman, Mary Beth Peil, Jessica Hecht, Victor Williams, and more round out the large ensemble, with Glover in particular giving a layered performance as Lou.
DeMonaco’s film will likely be underwhelming for even the most timid viewer, despite its attempts to shock and distress. While the movie doesn’t hold back in trying to spook its audience, the level of excess feels like the filmmakers are trying too hard. Most notably, through the countless, ludicrous dream sequences rife with peeling flesh and anatomy dummies, it’s as though DeMonaco is throwing every bloody image at the wall until, hopefully, one sickening morsel sticks.
The movie admittedly boasts some moments of truly gag-worthy body horror, but the gore is taken to an almost satirical level, leaving one leaf-blower-induced jump scare as the film’s most effective fright. Granted, The Home does lean heavily on the classic “stabbing a needle into an eyeball” bit, which is always a reliable way to leave viewers squirming in their seats. Prosthetic makeup supervisor Joshua Turi helps greatly in this respect, because while the gore reaches a point of diminishing return, it looks pretty damn good as these characters slash and poke at one another with increasing ferocity.
From his work in The Purge franchise, it’s obvious that DeMonaco knows how to craft some solid, spine-chilling tension. However, any knack for atmospheric thrills is lost in the sprawling halls of The Home, and it doesn’t come close to earning its status as a horror-thriller. Where, for example, The Purge films use leering masks to create feelings of unease and uncanny juxtaposition, the same tool feels uninspired here and, along with iMovie-esque sound effects, only adds to the tacky quality of the movie. Likewise, the film’s frequent use of crossfades and dips to black further cheapens it, once again doing too much for no payoff.
Despite its shortcomings, should you find yourself watching The Home and checking your watch to see if the 90-minute runtime has yet blissfully run its course, rest assured that the movie’s final act does not disappoint. After an underwhelming hour of distant screams and random outbursts of violence, the movie’s ending is a blood-soaked swan song brought on by a plot twist so bizarre that, to DeMonaco’s credit, I truly never saw it coming. While the rest of the film seems to take itself seriously even when it feels like it must be a satire, these final moments lend themselves fully to camp, and this is when The Home is at its wacky, bloody best. Davidson also finally hits his stride here, shedding his sleepy persona and committing fully to the movie’s balls-to-the-wall insanity.
Housing a clunky commentary on climate change amid the endless barrage of blood and guts, The Home simultaneously says a lot and nothing at all, making an interesting point about the trauma we inherit from our elders, but losing it through baffling creative choices. All in all, while the movie may not work as a horror, a thriller, or even really as a cohesive story, should you stick around until The Home’s wild ending, you might just be glad — if not a little nauseated — that you did.
