On any given day, Julia, an investigative reporter for The Metro Daily news, would love to chase down a lead in a hot new case about a local serial killer knocking off victims in suburban neighborhoods. However, when the killer sets his sights on Julia’s very own family, it gets personal. Once a random man willingly confesses to the crimes, everyone in town believes that this drawn-out tragedy is finally over, but not Julia. There may be foul play, or it may just be her grief talking, but Julia has a hunch that there’s more to this story than meets the eye. Together, she and her friend, a cynical but loyal cop named Grady, take it upon themselves to to dig up some information and help bring justice to the case, but what they uncover in the midst of their research is far more bizarre and menacing than anything they could have imagined, in the weird and warped world of Darren Lynn Bousman’s Abattoir.

It’s an odd thing. Upon returning to the scene of the latest crime in the case, a.k.a. going back to her sister’s home to start going through her belongings, Julia walks into the room where it happened, only to find it completely ripped out of the house. It’s not just like the furniture has been removed, or the pictures on the walls have been taken done. The floors have been totally stripped. The walls have been entirely removed. The only indication that this room used to belong to her sister’s son is the fact that its shell still resides within the same two story home. Otherwise, whoever bought this property has removed any reminder that a vicious murder took place here, and no one will ever be the wiser.

Stunned by what she’s seen; Julia decides to dig further. She rifles through old newspapers, leafs through old photographs, and begins to discover a pattern. For several years, and spanning a wide array of spaces, murders have occurred in places that were purchased almost immediately after the incident by a party who promptly removed the entire room which the crime took place in. At first she thinks it might just be a coincidence, but after dozens upon dozens of cases pop up showing ripped out rooms going hand in hand with brutal killings, she begins to believe that there’s an even bigger conspiracy at hand than what was originally conceived. Someone is buying these murder rooms, and Julia is determined to find out who it is, and why.

Aside from the always lovely Lin Shaye, a horror archetype who has graced dozens of genre films and recently starred as the head of the Insidious franchise, the one person who it’s nice to see get some screen time here is actor Joe Anderson. An underrated talent, Anderson recently appeared as Mason Verger on Hannibal after Michael Pitt departed and as Terry Perish in Horns, the Alexandre Aja helmed Joe Hill adaptation. Anderson has always brought a quiet yet cocky sort of confidence to his roles, so it’s no surprise that he really shines in this modern day film noir as a passionate but self-detrimental man of the law in love with a woman who doesn’t love him back. He and Jessica Lowndes (Julia) share some serious chemistry, and it’s entertaining just to watch them hunt down locations and toss flirty comments back and forth at each other.

At its core, Abattoir is a very cool and unique film that’s very different from anything else out there right now, as it cleverly pulls from the classic noirs of the 1940s, while simultaneously giving fans a peek at what’s possibly to come in the future of horror movies. Like a cross between Dark City and Thirteen Ghosts, and containing elements of the Bioshock video game franchise universe, Abattoir is twisted and morose example of what happens when corrupt maniacs gain too much power over people and begin experimenting with the world they live in.

Abattoir’s combination of gothic aesthetics and film noir beats combine to create some truly stunning visuals, although some excessive CG kind of takes away from the design of some of the ghosts towards the end. However, the concept of the haunted house is really special. From the outside, it looks like a Salvador Dali painting come to life, as it seems to break all rules of physics by building the frame like an upside down triangle, balancing the gigantic head and body of the house upon a tiny base. Common knowledge tells a person that building a bse too tiny to support the building its holding will ultimately cause the structure to tumble and fall down on itself, but somehow, this place seems to defy gravity, as if magic itself were holding it steady. If possible, the inside of the house is even more curious than the outside. Upon entering, one can find rooms and rooms filled with spirits acting out their final action upon earth – meaning they all die in a horrific manner again, and again, and again, like stage actors performing a nightly show that never ends.

The biggest thing that could have taken this film to the next level is if director Bousman would step just a little bit further out of his comfort zone. Despite the fact that the movie that prides itself as being a modern film noir, by the end of the feature, it feels more like Bousman is falling back on his old steampunk ways, and resting comfortably in familiar territory when he should have been branching out. However, despite its grievances, Abattoir makes a name for itself for its premise alone, which separates it from nearly anything else in mainstream horror right now. It’s a terrific little idea that if executed correctly, could spans several sequels, as the house allows for many different types of backgrounds to be explored, and future rooms to be filled.