Conjuring Horror Magic!
Old houses, paranormal investigators, and demon-possessed
mothers, oh my!
Ring any bells?
Let’s talk The Conjuring, released in the summer of 2013, and well received worldwide by both critics and viewers. And why shouldn’t it have been met with praise? It hit every mark, prefaced by those five alluring words: Based on a true story. A powerful toxin, and one hell of a tantalizing carrot for both horror lovers and skeptics around the globe. A more accurate description would be: The alleged exploits of paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren. But where’s the fun in that? Horror’s far more captivating when served with undeniable truth.
Most horror geeks have seen The Conjuring, as has much of the general public. But I know there are stragglers out there, always late to even the greatest parties. You’ve got your reasons. One of which might have something to do with the release of this film, along with its director, James Wan. If you’re like me, you’re skeptical of any big Hollywood horror release. Many of horror’s greatest contributions have small roots. Indie (art house) horror has done wonders for the genre, with numerous films made in genuine, masterful ways, often with a patient hand. Don’t get me wrong, Hollywood’s no chump. Some of my absolute favorite horror films are big production hits. However, Hollywood is often better than anyone at destroying a scary story with its bloated budget, silly CG, and over-the-top antics. The Hollywood film industry doesn’t usually step delicately, and horror’s always been a genre best served with subtlety. After all, the imagination conjures far more terrifying imagery than special effects ever will (though there are exceptions), and smaller budgets often require creative, thoughtful means of inducing fear.
Starring Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson, The Conjuring offers solid performances all around, and New Line Cinema gave it that Hollywood varnish, boosting the production value right where it needed to be to render a great looking film. But this kind of glow leaves some viewers weary. The Conjuring could’ve easily proved to be more trash filler— easy to make, cheap to film (by Hollywood’s standards), and always profitable, even at the detriment of the genre. And then there’s James Wan, a director loved by some, but certainly not everyone. He’s offered some stinkers, many of which reside within The Conjuring universe. Earlier on, James Wan brought us Saw, which saw audiences divided, and Insidious, which was well received by many but still had its share of critics. Point being, James Wan is no Mike Flanagan. He comes with a risk, and some skepticism was expected, if not warranted. Fortunately, in the case of The Conjuring, naysayers were proved wrong.
Vera Farmiga offered up that amazing mix of strength and vulnerability she’s known for, Patrick Wilson was reliably steady and believable throughout, and Lili Taylor had me convinced of her plight till the end—not to mention her aesthetic! Her looks offer a unique blend of equal parts kindness and menace. All the children did a fine job, as did the rest of the cast. The look of the film was fantastic, and it offers a pretty great soundtrack, as well. It didn’t make it on our list of the top horror scores, but it deserves a mention. All around, the film excels. There’s really nothing bad to note. But, while necessary for a great film, these things alone aren’t where The Conjuring shines brightest.
As is always the case with great horror, it needs that Midas touch—an unseen, almost indescribable element that ties great acting, awesome production value, and a badass soundtrack together in a cohesive, spine-tingling way. I suppose it can best be described as insight. Insight into the viewer, their emotions, their connection to the film, their level of fear, and, above all, the film’s ability to immerse the audience in a way that allows for suspension of disbelief and empathy. When we believe a character’s journey and care about their struggle, we become invested. Without that, we don’t care who gets hacked to bits with a machete, why a young man’s wearing the clothes of his deceased mother, or whose soul may never return from the dark forces at play. Emotional investment and full immersion are key, and respect for the story you’re delivering, along with respect for the viewer, is vital. These non-technical attributes make up that nearly indescribable Midas touch. You can’t go to school to learn this language. You’ve either got it or you don’t. This is the real movie magic—not FX and CG. And this is where The Conjuring does its best work.
The Conjuring isn’t the best horror film around, and it’s certainly not without its flaws, but it’s damn good. I bought into the family in this film. I believe their pain, and I feel for the turmoil they’ve been thrust into. And while there’s a lot of skepticism surrounding the real Ed and Lorraine Warren, I was drawn in by their characters and their immense undertaking. And then there’s ambience. What sold me on The Conjuring was its ability to induce fear, both subtle and overt. Sure, I don’t get scared by films, but I can still detect and greatly appreciate a film’s fear factor. Without hesitation, The Conjuring has it in spades. It’s no Hereditary or Lake Mungo, but it knows how and when to pull a punch, and when to deliver a blow, which is so important for a genre that relies so heavily on the ebb and flow of adrenaline. It’s big budget—they couldn’t help but to throw a couple overt scare tactics in there, but generally speaking The Conjuring knows the dance well. It pokes here and there with splendidly eerie imagery, effectively placing viewers in that place of subtle discomfort, all while knowing when to ease its hold. It also knows when to jab, quick and hard, leaving the viewer intact but encased in dread. And boy, does this film know how to deliver a knockout! The climactic scene is an unnerving, hard-hitting assault on the senses, offering unforgettable visuals. And we can’t forget Annabelle. After all, this is where she made her debut, and what a debut it was. If only the subsequent Annabelle films had lived up to their potential. They certainly fell short, but that f****d up little doll sure did worm her way into the cockles of my horror-loving heart in The Conjuring.
This is a must-see film for any lover of the genre, and a good bit of fun for those who only occasionally dabble in the dark arts. It’s not little kiddo friendly, but if you’ve got any teens in the house, it’s a fun way to scare the hell out of them while blaming it all on James Wan.
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