Yet somehow, these elements didn’t really gel for me. No, here was a film that had so much going for it, that was a prestige work in many senses and which you could arguably call a good film, at least in terms of acting, production and story. And the frustration wasn’t that it was a bad movie – that would, in a way, have been more acceptable. Coverage of the film in genre magazines – admittedly with the emphasis on Dick Smith’s make-up ‘illusions – had whetted my appetite considerably, but the film simply didn’t work for me. When I first saw Ghost Story, back on its original VHS release, I was rather disappointed. The problems in adapting a complex story for the screen laid bare in John Irvin’s messy, compromised version of Peter Straub’s magnificent novel.
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