The first instalment of “It,” Stephen King’s scary clown epic, was about overcoming fears. Specifically, the shape-shifting Pennywise the Dancing Clown a.k.a. It (Bill Skarsgård), the manifestation of all the character’s fears. The new film, inventively titled “It: Chapter Two,” is about resilience, about sticking your neck out for your friends.
The new one is set in 2016, twenty-seven years after the preteen Loser’s Club battled Pennywise in his sewers lair and kept the town of Derry, Maine safe from the child gobbling monster. Now, the childhood friends have gone their separate ways. Loser’s leader Bill (James McAvoy) is now a successful mystery novelist. Sexual abuse survivor Beverly (Jessica Chastain) went on to become a fashion designer, while Ben (Jay Ryan), the overweight, bullied kid is now an architect living in Nebraska and loud-mouth Richie (Bill Hader) is a DJ in Los Angeles. Other members fled town as well. Hypochondriac Eddie (James Ransone) runs a NYC limousine company and Stanley (Andy Bean) is now an Atlanta-based accountant.
Only Mike (Isaiah Mustafa) stayed in Derry. Traumatized by the events of his youth he battles a substance abuse problem but stays on top of Pennyworth’s existence by sleeping next to a police scanner. “Something happens when you leave this town,” says Mike. “The farther away, the hazier it all gets. But me, I never left. I remember all of it.” When trouble in the form of a clown comes back to town Mike summons the others Losers to come back home to conquer their fears, bond together and do battle with their old foe. “Did you miss me?” taunts Pennywise. “No one wants to play with me anymore.”
At almost three hours “It: Chapter Two” is an overindulgent mish mash, part horror, a splash of comedy and heaping helping of pop psychology. Oh, and a clown. To say the movie takes it’s time is an understatement along the lines of suggesting Pennnywise floss more often. It almost feels like you’re binging several episodes of a serialized version of the story without the benefit of being able to switch channels when the going gets repetitive.
And it gets repetitive. We are endlessly reminded of the character’s childhood traumas, told of Pennywise’s evil and if someone said to me, “We’ve got to stick together,” as many times Bill says it here, I would make a run for it and never look back. The movie says it best when Ritchie exasperatedly says, “We’re caught up, OK!” over an hour in, and yet the exposition and repetition continues.
There are several striking nightmarish images and Hader provides some much-needed comic relief but it feels as though director Andy Muschietti and screenwriter Gary Dauberman regarded King’s novel as some sort of sacred text and where unable to stray from the written word. One of the enjoyable things about King’s novels are there world building, his attention to detail and skill for weaving mythology into real(ish) world situations. The best adaptations of his work carefully parse these elements to boil down the essence of the story. “It: Chapter Two” does not make the effort. Instead it laboriously recreates the novel, frills and all. It may have worked in print but here it feels the running gag about Bill’s inability to properly end his stories has come to life, manifesting itself in the CGI heavy climax and the extended coda.
In this sequel Pennywise’s red balloon has finally popped.
Toys rule at the box office these days. “Toy Story 4” and “Child’s Play” made big bank last weekend. This week marks the return of Annabelle, the $1 billion devil dolly. The wickedest toy since Chucky she’s the creepy, glassy-eyed star of “The Conjuring” prequels.
On screen Annabelle, an old-fashioned doll possessed by evil spirits, has raised all manner of havoc. Before she was captured by “self-described “demonologists, ghost hunters and kooks” Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) she terrorized orphans and haunted children. “The doll,” says Lorraine, “is a beacon for other spirits.”
To keep the world safe from the demonic doll the Warrens stored her in a glass box at their Occult Museum (a basement that looks like a prop warehouse run by Bella Lugosi) in Connecticut. There she is controlled by chapel glass from an old church blessed by a priest to prevent her from causing any more trouble. But what happens if the spell wears off?
In “Annabelle Comes Home” a babysitter’s (Madison Iseman) snooping friend (Katie Sarife) upsets the spiritual balance of the museum, allowing the artefacts to do what they’re meant to do, cause trouble. Now everyone in the house, including the Warrens’ ten-year-old daughter, Judy (McKenna Grace), is a target of evil. “Annabelle. She’s doing all this,” says Judy. “She wants a soul today.”
As with all other “Conjuring” universe movies “Annabelle Come Home” takes its sweet time building an atmosphere of dread to leave you queasy and uneasy. For much of the running time the weirdest thing that happens is an invisible, ghostly hand breaking a glass of milk and starting the stereo. There are jump scares but they don’t deliver much of a payoff. Nothing is singularly shocking, it’s more the cumulative effect of evil versus innocence that disturbs. Director Gary Dauberman knows that the long game, the gradual reveal of evil, complete with the old-school now-you-see-them-now-you-don’t-theatrics, is creepier than overt scares.
“Annabelle Comes Home” works because it creates a mini universe with its own set of rules and God help you if you break them. Best of all it’s an old-fashioned film that doesn’t rely on gore to sell the thrills. Instead there’s lots of laboured breathing, wide eyed disbelief, low-fi drive-in thrills and characters you want to survive.
“The Nun,” the fifth instalment of the never-say-die horror series “The Conjuring,” is rated R for terror, violence and disturbing/bloody images and YouTube recently deemed movie’s teaser trailer too shocking for their website. And remember, YouTube specializes in weird ‘Dancing-Men-Wearing-Horse-Mask’ videos. But don’t believe the hype. “The Nun” is all soulless flimflam.
Set in In 1952 Romania, “The Nun” begins with a death at a cloistered abbey. “This place is…” says a local, “what’s the opposite of a miracle?” To investigate the suicide by hanging of the young nun at the Cârța Monastery the Vatican dispatches Catholic priest, Father Burke (Demián Bichir) and novitiate Sister Irene (Taissa Farmiga). “I have orders from the Vatican to determine if the grounds are still holy,” he says.
Burke routinely examines “unusual matters” for the church but is troubled by an exorcism gone wrong while Irene, as a child, was plagued by visions of a mysterious nun. To uncover the abbey’s secret the holy rollers will have to risk not only their physical beings but metaphysical ones as well.
“The Nun” starts off slow and atmospheric. It begins to get less interesting about half-an-hour in when the jump scares start. From then on it is a pastiche of the kind of stuff you might expect from a place where Gregorian Chants echo down the hallways. The low budget, low wattage scares include a nightmarish scenario of open graves, folks burping up serpents, ghostly shadows, rolling rosary beads and, of course, the obligatory portal to hell.
Sound eerie? It isn’t.
Director Corin Hardy must have saved money on the lighting because everything is under lit by swinging oil lamps or shrouded in mist. It doesn’t matter much because there’s nothing interesting to look at anyway. The creep factor does get dialled up in the last half hour but it’s mainly a series of jump scares and surreal images, many of which look like outtakes from a Floria Sigismondi video. Add in a few intentional laughs and some not-so-intentional giggles and you have a film destined for the Midnight Madness circuit.
Here’s the thing. If there’s a door in your abbey that reads ‘God Ends Here’ it’s best to leave it closed. Burke and Co. could have done everyone, especially the audience, a favour by leaving well enough alone.
Since 2013 she’s been seen in more movies than Angelina Jolie. The films she appeared in have grossed over $1 billion at the box office. She doesn’t have much emotional range—her motions are largely confined to opening and closing her eyes—but in these politically correct times you can call her a doll and not fear sounding sexist.
She’s Annabelle, devil dolly.
The real life inspiration for Annabelle, the creepy, possessed toy from The Conjuring series, is safely locked away in ghost hunter Ed and Lorraine Warren’s cabinet of curiosities but her onscreen counterpart is back this weekend in Annabelle: Creation.
But what do we really know about the sinister plaything?
In real life the story began in 1970. A mother bought a vintage Raggedy Ann doll for her daughter Donna. Then it got weird. The doll moved around the apartment and left upsetting messages for her new owner. Freaked out, Donna called in a psychic who determined the spirit of a seven-year-old girl named Annabelle Higgins possessed the toy.
Enter the Warrens, “self-described “demonologists, ghost hunters and kooks.” After a failed exorcism they removed the doll from Donna’s apartment but the supernatural hijinks didn’t stop there. On the way home they claim the doll took control of their car, causing their power brakes and steering to fail. At the Warren house Annabelle continued to act out until they finally contained her evil in a specially built glass lock box. Currently she is on display in the warren’s Occult Museum, located in Lorraine Warren’s basement in Monroe, Connecticut.
In reel life the details are different. Movie Annabelle is a porcelain doll with a white ruffled dress, not a worn Raggedy Ann. Then there’s the invented backstory of the first prequel to The Conjuring movies. The closing credits to 2014’s Annabelle state, “The story, all names, characters and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious.”
The story isn’t true but don’t worry, she’s still the wickedest doll since Chucky.
Annabelle begins in the late 1960s with a gift from John to his expectant wife Mia. “There’s something I want to give you,” he says. “Oh no,” she laughs, “the last time you said that I ended up pregnant.” He gives her Annabelle, a seemingly harmless antique doll, decked out in a lace wedding dress. The quiet peace of John and Mia’s life is broken by a Manson Family style home invasion, and even though Mia and John survive, strange things start happening in the wake of the attack. “Crazy people do crazy things, ma’am,” explains a detective before everyone starts to realize that Annabelle has something to do with the eerie goings on.
Annabelle: Creation goes back further, digging into why and how the dolly became so disturbed and disturbing. In the new film a doll maker and his wife lose their daughter Annabelle to a car accident. Years later one of her dolls appears to have a life of its own.
The new film will likely raise the hairs on the back of more than a few necks, but one thing is certain, the original doll is still the scariest of all. Visitors to the Occult Museum who mock the doll report having accidents on the way home and Lorraine’s son-in-law Tony Spera says Annabelle is the exhibit that terrifies him the most.
She doesn’t have much emotional range—her motions are largely confined to opening and closing her eyes—but the films she appeared in have grossed over $1 billion at the box office. She’s Annabelle, devil dolly, and she’s back to prove that you can’t keep a good doll down.
“Annabelle: Creation” is a second prequel to “The Conjuring”—following 2014’s “Annabelle”—to tell the story of the creepy, possessed doll before she was safely locked away in ghost hunter Ed and Lorraine Warren’s cabinet of curiosities. The first prequel, set in the 1960s, saw the creepy antique doll cause havoc in the lives of a pregnant woman and her husband.
This time around it’s an origin of evil story digging into why and how the child’s toy became so disturbed and disturbing. The preamble takes us back to the 1940s when kind-hearted dollmaker Mr. Mullins (Anthony LaPaglia) and his wife (Miranda Otto) witness their daughter Annabelle killed in a terrible—and rather dramatically filmed—accident.
Cut to twelve years later. The once kindly couple are now shells of their former selves, still wracked with grief over the loss of his daughter. Their rambling Californian house, once alive with activity is now a cobwebbed mausoleum. When a nearby orphanage shuts down the couple welcome six residents and their nun custodian Sister Charlotte (Stephanie Sigman) into their home. They both get something from the deal. Mr. and Mrs. Mullins hope the orphans will inject some soul into their lifeless home.
On the upside the young tenants have a place to live, a TV and a radio. “It’s as big as a castle,” they gush. “I guess that makes us princesses!” On the downside their high-spirited ways bring out the doll’s evil spirits.
“Annabelle: Creation” is a less-is-more horror movie. The scares are bare boned, small moments—a shadowy figure here, a slamming door there—that add up to an atmosphere of dread. Add in Linda (Lulu Wilson), a little demon battling girl with creepy, concerned eyes and a handful of good lines like, “Forgive me father for I am about to sin,” make an impression but everything else feels too tastefully restrained.
In movie math demons plus little kids equals “The Exorcist” but “Annabelle: Creation” isn’t so much scary as it is weird. Those looking for overt terror à la William Friedkin’s masterpiece will be disappointed.
Director David F. Sandberg—whose horror bona fides were well established after “Lights Out”—is unafraid to take his time and creating the dread. Except for a few frights near the end, unfortunately, audiences may leave the theatre feeling the same way, unafraid.
