Critic Reviews

Flanagan so profoundly conveys the ferocity with which the past haunts this family, ensnaring them in webs of grief, that it feels as if we, too, are being pushed into an oblivion, so that we no longer have to share these characters’ living nightmares. For its blistering gathering of trauma, this [sixth] episode is without equal among the six that were provided to press ahead of The Haunting of Hill House's premiere, and it leaves you with a depressing and melancholy impression that there may actually be no escape from whatever it is that’s haunting the Crains.

The Netflix drama’s reverence for the novel’s soul radiates through its interpretation of fear, belief and the true definition of a haunting. But the highest compliment one can pay to any tale of terror is that it feels real enough to stay with you, to keep you up at night and believe in it. ... Via writing, visuals and its cast performances, this new incarnation of “The Haunting of Hill House” is more than merely superb. It could prove to be the defining horror series of this moment.

The Haunting of Hill House contains some of the most unforgettable horror imagery in film or television in years. The best horror film of the year also happens to be one of the best TV shows of 2018. Don’t miss it.

It's as though Flanagan has taken Jackson's original work, shattered it and then rearranged the pieces to create a completely original, but equally brilliant tale.

While the story's different, this spooky (if drawn-out) family drama maintains the book's spirit--smartly wedding conventions of horror to resonant experiences of trauma. [12 Oct 2018, p.48]

The real marvel of The Haunting Of Hill House is in its execution. Plot threads that initially may seem to go nowhere, or seem obvious, actually have welcome, complicated layers that reveal the relatable family dynamics underneath the heightened horror as the series goes on.

A horror series that doesn’t immediately make a case for itself; like the best of the genre, it’s slowly insinuating, building in power as it tells a story of repressed trauma and family discord. It’s an effective scare-fest that is at its best when the tale does more than jolt the viewer.

The Haunting of Hill House, adapted very loosely by Mike Flanagan from the iconic Shirley Jackson novel, is often scary as hell and possessed of enough character-centric nuance to carry viewers through to the end--even if some of the visceral frights peter out well before the conclusion.

For eight and even nine episodes, the series does everything right as both a compelling, fractured-family drama and a dive-under-the-couch-cushions creepshow. Anyone near my office likely heard a few screams (manly screams, mind you) as I obsessively binged my way through it. That 10th episode, however? The less said, the better.

It’s a monologue-heavy series, but the writing is rich and haltingly expressive. ... The family’s issues with mental illness are treated sensitively and believably, and Flanagan makes sure to counter every moment of supernatural terror with a reminder that psychological terror is real, that depression, addiction, and ideation are every bit as terrifying as anything lurking in Hill House.