Robert Wise, the former protégé of Val Lewton who would go on to win multiple Oscars, returned to horror one more time in 1963, and created one of the genre’s all time masterpieces. Adapted from Shirley Jackson‘s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House, it is the archetypal haunted house story, and an exercise in suspense and terror that has rarely been paralleled, if ever.

The simple premise – an anthropologist with an ulterior agenda invites specially selected strangers to an apparently haunted house – is a familiar one, with familiar expectations. Wise sought to both subvert and defy those expectations, and certainly succeeded: relying on none of the clichés of the genre, instead using his own experience and expertise to build cinematic psychology and provoke dread and terror.

Lonely spinster Eleanor (Julie Harris) and bold, adventurous empath Theodora (Claire Bloom) agree to stay at the house and sample its mysteries. Eleanor becomes convinced the house is a living entity, speaking directly to her. Theodora tries to calm and protect her companion, but finds herself increasingly convinced of her claims. The house is a character itself – designed by Elliot Scott, it is a fiendish mansion inspired by Expressionism, a maze of unusual geometry, claustrophobic passages and winding staircases that mirror Eleanor’s fragile mind and plays upon both character and audience tensions in every scene.

One of the masterstrokes of the film is the relationship between Eleanor and Theo. It is one of the first films to portray an LGBT character in a genuinely positive way, and Claire Bloom’s performance as Theo is key to this. Theo is hip, modern and smart, and her attraction to spinster Eleanor is handled in a mature and sensitive manner. The film largely eschews sexual subtext or undertones – choosing instead to play the developing relationship in a matter-of-fact manner. This is not something to titillate or amuse, it just is. A refreshing depiction of a gay woman in cinema.