Some horror flicks are inherently bad from the start, but The Haunting of Molly Hartley actually could've been a decent picture. The story is one part Rosemary's Baby and one part The Omen, but its duties to the teeny-bopper demographic keep getting in the way. Liddell plays things safe when he should be daring, putting most of his efforts into freaking viewers out visually rather than thematically. Loud noises and jump scares alone do not make a good movie, and hardly anywhere is that more true than with The Haunting of Molly Hartley. Aside from the lame and derivative frights, the cast doesn't do much to draw viewers into the fray. Bennett is cuter than cute but has a habit of wearing the same dazed expression for most of the film. Her emotions also turn on a dime, leading to awkward moments when she's howling in fear one second and lashing out at people the next. With the exception of Shanna Collins as a Bible-thumping classmate, the supporting cast is a generic bunch whose faces and roles all bleed into one another.
Slap on an ending that's as anticlimactic as the day is long, and you've got yourself a pretty miserable affair. For what it's worth, worse ghost stories have been unleashed on viewers and this flick's badness is one that won't last much further beyond your journey back to the parking lot. But in the end, The Haunting of Molly Hartley is liable to frighten more slumber parties than it will hardened horror buffs.
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