Alright, grab your popcorn – maybe some slightly stale stuff from the back of the cupboard for authenticity – and let’s rewind to 1986. Remember walking through the aisles of the video store, the lurid covers promising thrills and chills? Somewhere between the action heroes and the slasher villains, you might have spotted a familiar, frazzled face – Gene Wilder’s – alongside his incandescent wife, Gilda Radner, on the cover of Haunted Honeymoon. It wasn't quite horror, not purely comedy, but something endearingly strange in between, a film that feels like discovering a dusty, velvet-lined box in your grandparents' attic.
A Spooky Getaway Goes Sideways
Directed, co-written, and starring the master of neurotic charm himself, Gene Wilder (forever beloved from Young Frankenstein and Willy Wonka), Haunted Honeymoon is his affectionate nod to the "old dark house" comedies of the 1930s and 40s, mixed with the radio mystery shows he grew up adoring. Wilder plays Larry Abbot, a radio star famous for his horror program, who’s about to marry fellow performer Vickie Pearle (the irreplaceable Gilda Radner, shining bright in what would sadly be her final film role). The twist? Larry suffers from panic attacks, exacerbated by the spooky scenarios he creates on air. His proposed cure? A wedding weekend at the imposing gothic mansion where he grew up, surrounded by his deeply eccentric family, hoping a controlled dose of scares will shock him straight. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, everything, naturally. The mansion, practically groaning under the weight of cobwebs and secrets, is less therapeutic retreat and more a chaotic stage for family dysfunction and… potential werewolves? Wilder, pulling triple duty, clearly poured his heart into this project. He co-wrote the script with Terence Marsh, a two-time Oscar-winning production designer (Doctor Zhivago, Oliver!), which explains why the film looks fantastic. The atmosphere is thick with stormy nights and creaky floorboards, all captured with a tangible, pre-digital texture that feels wonderfully nostalgic on a slightly fuzzy CRT screen.
Comedy Over Chills
Let’s be clear: this isn't a film that will genuinely frighten you. The scares are strictly PG, more Scooby-Doo than The Shining. The real draw here is the cast. Wilder is in fine form, oscillating between suave leading man and quivering ball of nerves, his physical comedy as sharp as ever. Radner is simply luminous; her chemistry with Wilder, rooted in their real-life love, is palpable and incredibly sweet, lending the film a core of genuine warmth. It’s poignant watching them together here, knowing it was their last collaboration.
And then there's Dom DeLuise. Oh, Aunt Kate! Playing Larry’s flamboyant, clairvoyant great-aunt, DeLuise steals every scene he’s in, chewing the scenery with delightful abandon while draped in furs and pearls. It’s a performance of pure, unadulterated silliness that perfectly complements the film’s slightly unhinged energy. Remember finding out that was DeLuise under all that? It felt like discovering a secret Velveeta recipe – maybe not high-brow, but undeniably satisfying. The supporting cast, filled with quirky characters like Jonathan Pryce and Paul L. Smith, adds to the enjoyable chaos.
That Handmade Charm
Watching Haunted Honeymoon today is a reminder of how films used to feel. The gags rely on timing, performance, and practical ingenuity, not slick CGI. Think less about jump scares and more about elaborate Rube Goldberg machines of fright designed to rattle Larry. The werewolf transformations, the mysterious figures lurking in corridors – it all has that slightly clunky, handmade quality that defined so many 80s comedies trying their hand at genre-bending. It’s part of the charm! Interestingly, the imposing ancestral home wasn't just a set; exterior shots used the historic Knebworth House in England – the same gothic backdrop that would later serve as Wayne Manor in Tim Burton's Batman! Talk about versatile real estate.
Wilder even brought in his frequent collaborator, composer John Morris (Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein), whose score perfectly captures the blend of spooky melodrama and lighthearted romance. It hits all the right notes, swelling dramatically one moment, then winking at the audience the next.
Reception and Rewind Value
Upon release, Haunted Honeymoon didn't exactly set the world on fire. Critics were somewhat baffled, unsure what to make of its gentle spoofing and old-fashioned sensibilities in an era leaning towards edgier comedy. It sadly underperformed at the box office, making back roughly $8 million on its estimated $9 million budget. Yet, like so many films from the era, it found a second life on VHS. It became one of those comforting weekend rentals, a movie you could put on when you wanted something goofy, nostalgic, and ultimately good-hearted.
It's not perfect. The plot meanders, some jokes land softer than others, and the central "scare therapy" conceit is flimsy. But criticizing it too harshly feels like missing the point. It’s a passion project, a love letter to classic Hollywood, and a showcase for the wonderful chemistry between Wilder and Radner.
VHS Heaven Rating: 6.5/10
Why this score? Haunted Honeymoon earns points for its undeniable charm, the delightful performances (especially Wilder, Radner, and DeLuise), the atmospheric production design, and its affectionate homage to a bygone era of filmmaking. It loses a few points for its uneven pacing and inconsistent laughs. It's more sweet than spooky, more silly than sophisticated.
Final Thought: This isn't the sharpest horror-comedy hybrid on the shelf, but Haunted Honeymoon is like a comfy old sweater found on the video store rack – warm, familiar, and imbued with the irreplaceable magic of Gene Wilder and Gilda Radner enjoying one last dance on screen. Perfect for a rainy night when you crave gentle laughs and a dose of pure 80s heart.