THE HAUNTING OF HOLLYWOOD – Review by Liz Whittemore
In Lilia Doytchinova’s feature debut, The Haunting of Hollywood, the filmmaker wears all the hats. The story finds an aspiring young filmmaker moving to L.A. with his girlfriend. Plagued by the death of his actress mother years before, James finds himself pulled in by her unrequited dreams as he unpacks his traumatic childhood.
Doytchinova uses well-known industry lore from 1934 as inspiration. A woman named Peg Entwistle jumped to her death off the Hollywood sign. In this screenplay, a mother, convinced of her star quality, drags her son to Hollywood, verbally abusing him and using him as an emotional punching bag when her career fails to take off. Her tragic suicide made headlines, and James never dealt with the trauma.
Once he arrives in L.A. with his girlfriend and wannabe musician roommate, a few eerie things occur that only he can see. James is in a morose, disassociated state until he drags Skylar and Casey (David Lami Friebe) to the proverbial scene of the crime in the morning. Their journey does not go according to plan.
While Doytchinova suggests that James always has a camera in his hand, his footage mostly appears in the Kodak Super 8 film that plays in his memories, making the story more of an obsession than a horror. Jake McGhee provides excellent drone shots. Sometimes, the quick-take editing can be distracting. The sound is rough in places—the heavy synth score wavers from hauntingly beautiful to overwhelming.
Stefanie Infante delivers a grounded performance as Skylar. The camera loves her. William Mann gives James a pained edge that often turns melodramatic. Tiffany Downey walks a fine line between camp and authenticity, playing James’ mother, Olivia. It is a performance that shadows Wendy Robie’s turn in The People Under the Stairs. I found Chance Caeden, as young James, the most compelling. The hurt was palpable. I would love to see him in more.
I understand suspension of disbelief, but there is a sudden tonal shift an hour into the film that made me shake my head. The shift occurs when the threesome begins to hike up the mountain to the Hollywood sign. I would forgive it if the buildup had been more precise or if this scene had appeared at the beginning. Even that trope would have made more sense. It currently feels like a Blair Witch knockoff. There’s a plausibility disconnect: no one has a backpack of glowsticks to light the way when hiking up to the Hollywood sign. No one in their right mind would leave a small jewelry box on the side of the mountain. And who abandons their friend, never questioning their disappearance? Not to mention, the film’s ending is entirely unclear.
The flow felt more like a student effort at storytelling rather than a finished narrative. Even at one hour and twenty-one minutes, it feels long. The unresolved generational trauma is the real story here. I wish Doytchinova had focused solely on Olivia’s borderline manic behavior and James’ mental health sooner, and forgotten about everything else. A tighter 30-minute short would be better. In its current form, the story goes in too many directions, ultimately diminishing the final product.
