1408

1408 is my kind of horror movie. It isn’t about slashers or monsters or natural disasters. It’s about a good, old-fashioned haunting and the fear and foreboding that haunting is all about.

John Cusack delivers a first-rate performance as a jaded writer who pumps out quickie books / travel guides on haunted hotels. When he receives a mysterious postcard from the Dolphin Hotel warning him to not enter Room 1408, he takes it as a personal challenge. Soon he’s meeting hotel manager Samuel L. Jackson, who does his best to warn the writer off his project of spending a night in 1408. General note for living: when Samuel L. Jackson is afraid of something, your punk ass better be afraid of it, too.

But Cusack is undeterred, and into 1408 he goes. And then the haunting begins. From apparitions of the room’s many suicides to jump-scare shots of Clint Howard appearing out of nowhere (And hey, what isn’t more terrifying than having to share a hotel room with Clint Howard?) to a final showdown that makes us fear poor John might wind up like poor Jack from another Stephen King haunted hotel movie, 1408 does a marvelous job of keeping the viewer on edge, off balance, and delightfully scared.

I didn’t expect much from 1408, but I got the best mainstream haunting movie since THE OTHERS. What a pleasant surprise.