The Haunting (1963)

I count Shirley Jackson's book as the most anxiety-inducing one I've ever read, and this adaptation does a pretty good job recreating that uneasy world, but Eleanor's dreamy, internal monologue drove the book and revealed her often magical thinking about the paranormal investigation she finds herself a part of at the living, breathing, evil Hill House, and of course this movie truncates all that into something more prosaic and manageable, and strongly suggests a love triangle that certainly wasn't in the arguably lesbian-leaning book, in order, I suppose, to be less psychological, more tangible. 

★★★★☆

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