The Conjuring

So, I guess you would call me a believer.  Throw any kind of myth or urban legend at me and I'll probably believe it.  I was raised in a liberal yet religious family, so I was taught, on one hand, to think outside the box and, on the other, to recognize that there is so much going on in this world that I cannot see with my own two eyes.  My mom thinks that the Loch Ness Monster exists.  My dad says that many years ago, he saw the ghost of a Colonial washer woman.  I believe both of them.  People may ask how a religious family can believe in such nonsense.  How can we not?  If you believe anything that happens in the Old or New Testament, you have to believe in ghosts, zombies, and demons.  The Bible is basically a big, supernatural epic.  Lazarus rises from his grave like an Old World George Romero zombie.  Jesus pulls demons out of the possessed, putting Max Von Sydow to shame.  In the end, you're either a believer or you're not.

Considering my lifelong romance with cinema, my beliefs make sense.  Cinema, like any other narrative art form, asks us to believe or, at least, suspend our disbelief.  When the curtains draw back and the lights dim, we are invited to enter another reality, to believe that this story is really happening.  We forget that these are just actors wearing costumes.  We forget that they are reading lines from a script and that there is a large crew of people standing behind the camera.  As a critic, I'm supposed to have one foot in the door and one out.  I need to be involved in the story so that I can write about my experience, but I can't become so immersed that I lose my critical eye.  Well, I'm supposed to.  It's difficult to stay objective and critical when watching a transporting and terrifying film like The Conjuring.

I've been watching horror films for twenty-five years, and it really takes a skillful director to scare the pants off of me.  James Wan is one such director.  The guy didn't have the most auspicious of beginnings as a filmmaker.  His first two films, Saw and Death Sentence, are laughable pieces of genre filmmaking.  Dead Silence has some frightening moments, but the characters are embarrassingly one-dimensional.  It wasn't until 2011's Insidious that Wan reached his stride.  Insidious made my best friend cry when she saw it.  She was shaking and hiding behind a pillow.  It was great...I'll have to make sure to show her The Conjuring.  She'll probably need therapy after she sees it.  I'm a bad friend...

Man, this movie is really, really scary.  Any good horror film is really a compilation of vignettes.  The Conjuring is no different and boasts a number of entertaining and horrifying sequences.  One such sequence takes place in the basement of a haunted house.  A paranormal investigator finds herself alone in the dark, dank basement.  She begins to hear a low cackling and then sees a hanging body making its way toward her.  This is not a "boo" moment, but instead a crescendo of terror.  The end of the film is also a frightening sequence presented with great skill.  As an evil entity takes possession of a central character, the sounds of demons and unearthly beings begin to grow in volume.  Items begin to move in the air and the possessed figure begins to levitate.  We have seen scenes like this before, in The Exorcist and The Last Exorcism, but there is a freshness to Wan's presentation.

The film feels so fresh because of how little Wan employs digital effects as scare tactics. So many horror films today look like gore-soaked cartoons.  Instead of using computer generated images, The Conjuring makes great use of filmmaking fundamentals.  Wan uses light and shadow to hide and reveal monstrous figures and other frightening elements.  His framing is dynamic and he creates a sense of unease with the placement of actors, props, and set dressing.  Wan also shoots a great bit of the film in long takes, and his blocking and camera movement create an atmosphere of fearful expectation.  The rest of the film is edited with great precision.  It all feels quite mathematical, and you can imagine Wan counting out beats in the editing suite.

There are breaks from the scary stuff, and these are filled with great characters.  Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga are amazing as Ed and Lorraine Warren.  They both bring great humanity and comedy to their roles.  Farmiga conveys the dark history of her character with simple eye movements and tortured body language.  Lily Taylor and Ron Livingston are lovable as the tenants of the haunted house.  Horror is so much more effective when we care about those involved.  Wan gives us many characters to identify with and root for when the spirits come calling.

The Conjuring also feels very relevant as it tells the story of a family stuck in a house they don't want.  The story of this family feels reminiscent of contemporary families fooled by predatory lenders and immoral realtors.  In The Conjuring, unseen forces have evil plans for a happy family.  How similar are these unseen forces to the machinations of Wall Street prospectors?  How many families feel that they have no control over their own homes?  The film, whether intentional or not, is an interesting exploration of property economics and themes of home and family.

In the end though, The Conjuring is just a scary movie.  For a film that exhibits such fine film craft, it's easy to forget the inner workings of the film.  It’s easy to forget that this is just a movie.  And, for 106 minutes, it's easy to just believe.