The House on Lidderman Street

Tucked in nicely on a Monopoly board featuring Stephen King-like edifices like the Overlook Hotel and Rose Red is Andrew David Barker’s homicidally haunting The House on Lidderman Street. This address stinks of dread, but for demons, it’s all about the convenience of the location. For there may indeed be more than one at the aforementioned address. Luckily, the abode is between occupants, except for a young apprentice builder named Pete Arrow (Jason Adam). Pete has been having a cold run of cards. His longtime girlfriend, Lucy (Lyndsey Craine), has left him after a bitter act of unfaithfulness. This leaves his life and confidence crawling at the bottom of the restroom.

Above all that, his boss and co-workers bicker with and verbally batter the young man into ever-increasing levels of internal rage and overwhelming private agony. That’s when the thumping comes. It is very faint and shrill when Pete first hears it. But hear it, he does. It soon sounds like something is moving about above stairs, and unlike E.T., it doesn’t come in peace with kindness and flowers. Indeed, the unseen resident of the house at Lidderman is far from pleasant. It stirs and stares at those, perhaps foolish enough, to remain within. Soon, a raft of unfortunate visitors interrupts young Pete, who is being courted by the supernatural while working for crap wages on a Saturday.

“…the unseen resident of the house at Lidderman is far from pleasant. It stirs and stares at those, perhaps foolish enough, to remain within.”

With The House on Lidderman Street, Barker summons the energy of Prince of Darkness as he wields the atmospheric terror with the controlled grace of a conductor’s baton. Keeping what might slip into predictability fresh, with twists and reversals that surprise and confound. It gets to the point that you’ll be screaming at the screen, “Get out of the house!” It’s a phantasmagorical frightfest, as the depths of the mystery of the spook upstairs come apart just long enough for more question marks to be thrown up.

Kudos to Mr. Adam, who is strong as our unwitting, but not wholly unwilling, leading man. He sells the dread and horror believably, making audiences feel the narrative’s unease. Special mention goes to the excitingly eccentric and classy turn by Phil Molloy as the nosey neighbor with a secret, Jed Fisk.

Having observed Mr. Barker’s progress from his early features and shorts, along with his stunning array of literary works, I must say it is a privilege to enjoy his evolution. This is a sterling entry to a body of work that shall garner great attention, eventually. Mark my words. In summation, The House on Lidderman Street stands, not merely as a testament to the hard work and ingenuity of indie film-making displayed by all involved with the production, but as a single-location, spooky little souvenir from a stay at an abode only a severely disturbed individual would characterize as home sweet home.