There are four words in the title of the latest entry in the Conjuring universe, but only one sounds good. It’s the word “last.”
The Conjuring: Last Rites seems to finally nail the coffin shut on this part of the franchise, saying goodbye to a series that revels in timeless scary stuff — swing sets that mysteriously move, creaky floors, battery toys that suddenly turn on and doorknobs that rattle. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, guys.
Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson reunite to play renowned, real-life paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, facing an “evil unlike anything they’ve ever encountered.” That evil? It lives in the Pennsylvania suburbs of 1986, of course.
Photo: AP
Last Rights — part of a universe that includes The Nun and Annabelle franchises — is a decent enough final cinematic prayer for this franchise, combining the personal story of the Warrens and their daughter, Judy, with a new paranormal possession that’s created a freaked-out family. It culminates in hope, love and a wedding. But first, demons and projectile vomiting.
Returning screenwriter David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick — aided by The Nun II scribes Ian Goldberg and Richard Naing — have crafted, with returning director Michael Chaves, the franchise’s signature alchemy: saccharine family hugging and laughter combined with ankle-level blood pools.
The evil thing this time is a full-length wooden-framed mirror with carvings of three children. It’s given as a gift to a girl’s confirmation — a mirror, really? — and soon makes family members levitate, yanks telephone cords (the movie’s younger viewers might laugh at a time when phones had cords) and turns dolls creepy.
Photo: AP
The time period gives the filmmakers great songs — Howard Jones’ Things Can Only Get Better, David Bowie’s Let’s Dance and The Cult’s She Sells Sanctuary — as well as a mention or two of the film Ghostbusters, used to mock the Warrens. There are also big shoulder pads, clip-on ties and huge, round glasses.
We start in 1964, where the young newlywed Warrens are investigating their first case — that possessed darn mirror again — but excuse themselves when a pregnant Lorraine Warren’s water breaks and Judy is born.
Fast-forward to the 1980s and the couple have sworn off investigating any more paranormal activities on account of Ed’s iffy heart. Plus, Judy, (a nifty Mia Tomlinson) who seems to have inherited her parents’ ability to sense evil, has a boyfriend. “Our family is not like other families,” dad warns her potential suitor.
This gives the moviemakers a chance to make a wedding dress shopping experience a truly frightening experience — if it wasn’t already — and a garbage disposal explodes in blood. The Conjuring has always taken pedestrian things and tried to turn them creepy but maybe jumped the shark last time with a possessed water bed.
The death of a recurring character connects the Warrens and the story of the poor Pennsylvania family with their horrible mirror. “It found us,” says dad, ominously.
There’s too much reliance on thunderstorms, quick cuts of grinning monsters, a slow buildup to the climactic final battle that drags in parts — how many delicate moving music boxes can we enjoy watching? — and Ed Warren should probably by now have committed to memory the correct Catholic prayer passages to banish a demon (Ed, man, get off book).
But you’d be a demon to not give Ed and Lorraine Warren their victory lap. At a time in horror when movies combine race commentary, explore politics or go full-out stabby-stabby, they were the ones who celebrated creaking floorboards and ticking grandfather clocks. It’s time to go but it’s also time to cheer this husband-and-wife team with the creepiest basement in the world.
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