Who doesn’t love a good horror documentary? The Haunting of Pennhurst certainly functions at times like one, especially when it airs live walkthroughs of the terrifying haunted house at its center. But here, the horrors run deeper than one would assume. The complicated legacy of the infamous Pennhurst State School and Hospital gets unearthed. Once a real institution for people with disabilities, “Pennhurst Asylum” has been repurposed into one of America’s most famous haunted attractions. Blending documentary interviews, historical footage, behind-the-scenes haunt prep, and stylized editing, directors Mike Artie, Katarina Poljak, and Nathan Stenberg explore the theatrical spectacle of “Pennhurst Asylum”… and the horrifying realities of the institute’s chilling history.
The eerie vibe starts right at the top of the film, as the camera pans across blueprints for Pennhurst. Certainly, haunted houses are inherently terrifying, but there’s a story behind this place that makes it all the more creepy. These are the sections that worked best for this viewer—from vintage info videos calling out “retards” to the utterly despicable living conditions and newspaper articles from the time, the creatives paint the true story of Pennhurst as being factually horrific. Who needs gnarly zombies or freaky creatures when humans do awful things in the name of wellness? The highlighting of the disabled sheds a new light on the proceedings, even though this documentary is not hopeful or uplifting in any way. If anything, it actually emphasizes that the treatment of these marginalized groups has come right back around to being harmful once again. Are we doomed to repeat history?
Some of the most emotionally devastating moments come from former residents recounting their experiences, particularly audio recordings describing years lost inside. Using already tormented individuals as forced slave labor and dehumanizing them even further through physical and mental mistreatment is difficult to stomach even now. Why were these places allowed to operate as they did? Those who existed on the fringes of society were just discarded here and left to live out their days. They were never meant to be rehabilitated or emerge anew, assimilating back into society. That’s a modern concept that unfortunately did not match the reality. Pennhurst being a leading place for deaths compared to other similar state institutes is even more discouraging.
On a separate note, The Haunting of Pennhurst also works well to flesh out the behind the scenes aspect of building a haunt. We get a front row seat for performers creating their characters, watching as they develop unique movement styles, and channel fears of their own into the narrative of the people they create. The varied cast of performers, many of whom identify as neurodivergent, often describe finding belonging and empowerment within the haunt community. The “island of misfit toys” comparison becomes the documentary’s strongest emotional piece. However, I do wish we had more bold dedication to either unpacking Pennhurst’s history, or delving into a tell-all about the haunt itself. With two large topics, there isn’t as much definition to either the history or the haunt. Each facet is spread just slightly too thin. There are very strong elements present from both angles.
The Haunting of Pennhurst is ultimately an unsettling and emotionally heavy documentary that works best when confronting the disturbing realities of institutional abuse. While uneven and occasionally conflicted in tone, the film remains compelling thanks to its unique horror editing, and the humanity of people telling their stories in the refreshed space. Tragic and atmospheric, The Haunting of Pennhurst lingers with sadness as the potential feel-bad documentary of the fest.
The Haunting of Pennhurst screened at 2026’s Tribeca Film Festival.
