In 1989, our family moved to Southern Connecticut so I could begin receiving cancer treatment. The house wasn't haunted, but for a brief time I was. The Warrens lived in the next town over. We were Protestants. We prayed. It stopped. The Haunting in Connecticut is a merely competent horror movie. It deserves the two stars Ebert & Roper gave it. It also deserves the praise they gave to the core actors. While the movie is wildly beyond anything I ever experienced (and isn't even shot in CT), the texture of non-paranormal elements is jarringly real. In some sense, it's validating: cathartic. There are only so many people who have lived in Connecticut. Far fewer are childhood cancer survivors from the 80s-90s. I'd be willing to wager even fewer have been haunted. It's such a small, small segment to base a pop movie on. Honestly, I have a hard time connecting with others. I've just accepted that I'll always be a sort of platypus. But people watched this movi...
