When they were children, Clara (Soledad Silveyra) was the outgoing one while her friend Cecilia (Cecilia Cenci) was more reserved; as adults, the roles have reversed, with Cecilia full of life, and Clara now a nervous recluse. When Cecilia goes on a trip with her boyfriend Armando (Miguel Ángel Solá), Clara is left all alone and her sanity (or what's left of it) unravels. Meanwhile, Cecilia and Armando take refuge at a strange house after their car has a flat tyre.
I can only assume that The House of the Seven Tombs is intended to be Argentina's answer to Roman Polanski's Repulsion, with everything that happens to Cecilia and Armando being a figment of Clara's increasingly fragile mind, originally damaged by a harrowing childhood experience in a creepy barn; it's the only way I can explain the abject weirdness of the movie, which is head-scratchingly surreal and impossible to fathom for most of the running time. There's all manner of strangeness involving a dovecote, cat burning, a well, some graves, skulls, a screeching bird that sounds like someone screaming 'Help!', and a drooling mentally disabled girl who likes to wallow in the mud with her pigs, all of which is not only very confusing, but also incredibly dull.
As Cecilia and Armando contend with the bizarre goings-on at the country house (which are most likely only happening in Clara's head), Clara is spending her time chucking out her missing husband's clothes, stabbing her wedding photos with a pair of scissors, and trapping a couple of people in her apartment.
Needless to say, director Pedro Stocki is no Polanski and Silveyra is no Deneuve, and even if you're a big fan of psychological horror, there's a good chance that this particular film will have you checking your watch at regular intervals to see how much time is left.