It's a ghost story. A very old-fashioned ghost story. Edwardian English countryside. Lots of black. Ravens. Haunting music and creepy sets.
Harry Potter plays Arthur Kipps, a widowed attorney sent to the country to process papers left by a deceased woman.
For some inexplicable reason, Kipps' job involves spending a night at the old woman's haunted house overnight. During that night, he seems to open every single door, and every single cupboard with a creak and a scream.
Not a barrel of laughs. In fact, not a barrel of anything.
Strange that Daniel Radcliffe would pick such a dull old creeper after several years of dull new creepy stuff to cut his teeth on.
In the end, not a shred of newness about it. A tired old flop that all would have done well to leave alone.
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