Netflix called this a comedy. It’s funny in the same way people laugh at a skateboarder flipping and breaking his neck. I didn’t laugh one time. I smiled a couple times at Patrick Wilson’s performance, but he was the only actor in the cast who was exaggerating his performance in the right (comedic) way. And even then it’s hard to regard murder, dismemberment, and lots and lots of blood as comedy. Call me old-fashioned – I didn’t laugh when a drug-addled blackmailer threatened a child. Of course the kid’s psychotic mother was threatening him at other points in the script, and that wasn’t funny either, especially since she so obviously favored his sister. She also was rationing the husband’s sex life to once a month, and telling him how inadequate he was at sex and at every single one of life’s other endeavors.
Look, murder has been funny before, or at least amusing. You should try “Theater of Blood” with Vincent Price and Diana Rigg, where actors get bad reviews and murder the critics, or “Kind Hearts and Coronets” where Alec Guiness keeps bumping off the heirs to a dukedom: he himself is tenth in line and wants to insure his inheritance, and also Guiness gets to play all the victims. These are funny movies. Rent them and just forget you ever heard of “Home Sweet Hell”.
You notice I am sparing the cast and crew from being named in this review except for Patrick Wilson, whose attempt was noble. Maybe because I hope they haven’t seen “Theater of Blood”.