It’s as though all involved with THE CONJURING franchise know that it’s running out of steam. Rather than just end it, though, they have devised THE CONJURING: LAST RITES, using that old movie adage of show, don’t tell, in order to give us irrefutable proof of same. This entry limps through its paces in a listless and overlong visit with the Ed and Larraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) during which we are advised that this case was unlike any other, and the one that made the duo bid farewell to active paranormal investigation.
Except it’s very like their other cases, particularly the ones involving that devil-doll, Annabelle, who features prominently. Oh, there’s also a possessed, three-headed mirror that follows the Warrens, though, being demonic, it refuses to take a direct route. Instead, it torments the Smurls, a faithful Catholic family whose only sin is that they are devout.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. The film begins with the Warrens’ very first encounter with that mirror way back in 1964 when a youthful Ed and an equally youthful and heavily pregnant Lorraine (played here by Madison Lawlor and Orion Smith) are called in to investigate an antique shop with bad vibes. Of course, the bad mojo brings on a premature birth, and the demon of the mirror invades the delivery room with typical demonic flourishes as the Warren’s daughter is born.
Flash forward to 1986, and that very same mirror is gifted to Heather Smurl (Kíla Lord Cassidy) by her grandparents for her confirmation. Immediately, things start to go weird. The kitchen light takes a plunge, and a crawling, talking doll named Suzy suddenly becoming startingly self-aware. Meanwhile, the Warrens are coping with Ed’s heart condition, a lack of interest from the general public about their work, and their perky daughter, Judy (Mia Tomlinson) getting serious about her ex-cop boyfriend, Tony (Ben Hardy).
How all this comes together takes a very long time without adding much to the narrative beyond Farmiga radiating nurturing warmth, and Wilson demonstrating what a great actor can do with an iffy script. The best part of the film is Ed’s reluctance to let his little girl grow up manifesting as extreme diffidence towards his future son-in-law. Ping-pong as a method of male dominance in Wilson’s hands, it just works.
As for the rest, what we have is a great many regurgitated tropes from a crucifix that bursts into flames while warding off Satan, to demonic figures popping up on the screen with bursts of overwrought music ending any hope of surprise, to a hapless victim levitating over his bed and robbed of the ability to scream. Respect for the film’s dedication to practical effects, which have a quaint charm and would have been far more effective in a story that was briskly paced with a sense of looming as well as active suspense. Alas, that is not the case.
Perhaps the idea of introducing Judy and her future husband was to set up a handoff for a new franchise focusing on the happy couple. Further alas, they do not have the spark that Wilson and Farmiga do, or did in the early films here there was the endearing squabbling of long-marrieds who love each other most of the time. Instead, Judy and Tony are a painfully wholesome couple madly, and very chastely, in love despite the best efforts of Tomlinson and Hardy to add some texture or, heavens forfend, edge. They are as bland as the script, and are saddled with insipid dialogue played out with great conviction, a state of affairs that renders it even more irritating.
The final confrontation (of course there is one) comes close to rising to the occasion, but despite some abruptly brisk direction and editing, it suffers from a terminal case of cliché-dom. If one wanted to point out the scariest thing in the entire film, it might have to be the 80s confection of a wedding dress Judy tries on only to be tormented by the demon that’s coming after her. There is just so much of it, and emphatically so. Plus, it appears in a scene with a wraparound mirror that causes it to fill the screen from all angles.
THE CONJURING: LAST RITES disappoints on so many levels with its essential mediocracy. Clunky, unfocused, and, worst of all, boring for long stretches, it ends a solid franchise with a sad wimper.
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