‘The devil exists. God exists. And for us, as people, our very destiny hinges upon which one we elect to follow...’
I’ve long been critical of The Conjuring cinematic universe, while there are occasional bright spots (Annabelle: Creation being the main one), I have never understood how these asinine ghost stories have become the highest-grossing horror franchise of all time. They are bloodless, humourless, predictable and dull. I thought in revisiting the first one again I might be able to finally see what others see in these movies. Alas…
Ed Warren (Patrick Wilson) and his wife Lorraine (Vera Farmiga) are paranormal investigators. Or conmen to you and me. They are called in to help the Perron family when matriarch Carolyn (Lili Taylor) and her vast array of daughters start hearing strange noises in the night.
The Conjuring is a horror movie for people that don’t like horror movies. There is no existential dread here. Nothing of any real substance. The plot is predictable. The dialogue is utterly forgettable. The film’s most chilling moments are stolen from better movies. Bedsheets on the washing line? Halloween. Demonic possession? The Exorcist. Creepy ghost kids? Thousands of movies. There isn’t a shred of originality here. It doesn’t help that in real life Ed and Lorraine Warren are despicable charlatans. If you want to see a truly terrifying ghost story, check out Grave Encounters, Hell House LLC, The Devil’s Backbone or As Above, So Below.
Horror icon James Wan has created a movie here that is ridiculously overrated. Despite a talented cast, and Wan’s undoubted ability to create memorable visual moments, the end product is quite simply tedious and derivative. Rubbish.