Over the weekend, a co-worker loaned me a copy of The Changeling (1980). I’d never seen it before, though, for awhile, I thought I had, but I was thinking of this movie, which I swear I saw on TV under the title “Changeling,” though I can’t find any evidence to back this up. Anyway, I loved it. (The Changeling, not Doppelganger.)
There are a lot of kinds of ghost stories. One of the most common kinds in movies is the detective story version, the “this ghost is haunting me and I’ve got to figure out why and lay it to rest” story. Not to engage in too much hyperbole, but The Changeling might be my favorite movie of that type ever. I’m serious. It’s full of spooky scenes, gorgeous sets, and restrained performances. It takes both the mystery and the supernatural seriously, the characters learn things without the movie beating you over the head with them or holding your hand, and the set-up for the principal conflict behind the haunting is much bigger in scope than a story like this would usually contain. Basically, it’s a brilliant movie, and I loved it. The End.