That first Conjuring movie was a modern masterpiece. (It was, to use the lingo of a professional film critic: “scary as shit!”) It may not have reinvented the wheel, but it served to reinforce James Wan’s reputation as a horror director with commercial sensibilities. Sure, he knew how to scare you, but he also knew how to make those scares work at the box office. Since 2013, there have been eight movies in what is now referred to as The Conjuring Universe, and all of them, while not necessary revolutionary, have nevertheless been slick enough, and scary enough, and entertaining enough to hold your attention. Which is something The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It just about succeeds in doing.
All of the movies in The Conjuring Universe play to our primal fears: dolls, demons, and nuns. From The Conjuring, to Annabelle, to The Curse of La Llorona, these are horror movies that feel like throwbacks to what we would have loved as kids. You know, the kind of movie we would have stumbled upon at our local video store and secretly watched while our parents were at work. It is this touch of the old fashioned, this subtle appeal to nostalgia, that is the secret of their success.
It’s that… and the Warrens.
Who You Gonna Call?
Over the course of these movies, James Wan has done an incredible job in reframing real life paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren. Here, they are brave and blustery, gutsy and determined, and willing to put themselves in harm’s way in order to rid the world of evil. They are demon hunting superheroes. Made all the more respectable by both Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga, whose easy charm go a long way to undoing the Warren’s actual reputation as being hucksters and charlatans.
The plot of this movie is once again inspired by one of the Warren’s actual adventures, this time it’s the 1981 trial of Arne Cheyenne Johnson, which is notable because it marked the first time in the United States where demonic possession was used as a defense in a court case.
The movie begins in the midst of an exorcism. The young David Glatzel (Julian Hilliard) is in the grips of an overwhelmingly evil force and the Warrens are trying their damnedest to rid him of it. They succeed, but along the way, the demon ends up being transferred to Arne Johnson (Ruairi O’Connor), an amiable young man who then goes on to commit a horrific and brutal killing. When Ed and Lorraine discover a pattern of similar crimes in the area, they set out to prove that Arne was actually possessed while committing the murder.
Sumptuous Horror
Taking over directorial duties here is Michael Chaves, who brings with him a surprising flair. (His last effort, The Conjuring spinoff, The Curse of La Llorona, was unfortunately as soft and wet as its antagonist.) While there are quite a few jump scares, the movie doesn’t rely on them to create suspense and tension. Chaves opts instead to create an atmosphere of foreboding – from the breakneck pace of the movie’s prologue, to the way Arne carries out his killing, to a marvelous set piece in the woods – there is a genuine sense of unease throughout this movie. You’re always on the edge of your seat. You’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The other thing that The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It has going for it is that it looks and feels lush. We’ve become so used to the Blumhouse approach of horror on a budget, that we sometimes forget just how sumptuous these environments can be. There is a sense of scale here. And I’m not just referring to the movie’s many locations, but rather to how it utilizes its space. Just watch the prologue and you will notice that every scene in the Glatzel home, from the living room, to the bedroom, to the bathroom, to the frantic climax on the dining table, is framed with an eye to maximize terror. It’s very clever.
This is a movie that feels big and expensive. It’s a reminder that horror movies can be cinematic events too.
In fact, Chaves displays such confidence in the way he’s constructed his sequel that he really didn’t need to litter it with as many nods to The Exorcist as he did. (We get it. You love that movie. Everyone does.) Heck, The Conjuring Universe now has a big enough pop-culture footprint that such homages and callbacks feel a little like false modesty.
If I had one complaint, it would be that I missed the whole haunted house element that these movies did so well. The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It broadens its viewpoint by taking the Warrens out on the road. Their investigation into Arne’s possession feels, at times, like an episode of Supernatural, the movie having more in common with a weekly procedural that it does with your typical haunting. This causes the movie to play out like a whodunnit, and while it’s undoubtedly well executed, it isn’t really the reason why we’re watching a Conjuring movie.
There doesn’t seem to be any end in sight for The Conjuring Universe. (We know there is a Crooked Man movie (remember him from The Conjuring 2?) currently in development, as well as a sequel to 2018’s The Nun.) And why shouldn’t there be? These movies perform well globally, they’re generally liked by the public, and are, for the most part, solidly entertaining efforts. The vast majority of them are competently made, and while they may not redefine the scope and significance of horror cinema, they nevertheless provide at least a few moments of thrilling escape.
The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It does exactly what it sets out to do, and does it relatively well. Nothing more. Nothing less.
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