THE RED HOUSE (1947) **1/2 Well, a compelling title, of course, obviously, but there's even more. The prototype teen horror flick configuration (good boy/bad girl, bad boy/good girl, in varying formation) orbits around Edward G. Robinson, without any of them noticing much. He expresses a great deal with the eyelids. If a central tenet of film noire is to create a great deal of suspense without anything actually happening, Delmer Daves deserves a commendation. On the other hand, if the creation of such a long and splendid fuse gives rise to a duty that the firecracker actually go off in some kind of meaningful way, he might have to give it back. No one should ever hold a lengthy seminar on how to make music for horror films without giving serious consideration to all of Miklos Rozsa's twists and turns, particularly turning up the heat when there isn't all that much to light a fire under. Robinson's at least good enough to raise the level of things precipitating the possibility of disappointment, but young actors, and particularly those without natural gifts, shouldn't fail to notice Rory Calhoun and Julie London. Their performances maybe aren't technically great, but they both get a lot of mileage out of sheer attitude, which sometimes is even more important.
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