Directed by Michael Chaves
Written by David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick and James Wan
Starring Patrick Wilson, Vera Farmiga, Ruairi O’Connor
The third of the Conjuring films and the eighth in the extended universe, The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It focuses on one of the most famous cases for husband and wife paranormal investigators Ed (Patrick Wilson) and Lorraine Warren(Vera Farmiga). Taking place in 1981, the trial of Arne Cheyenne Johnson brought international media attention to the real life Warrens, as they supported the defendants claim that he was possessed by a demon when he committed the crime.
After a murder is linked to an exorcism that went wrong, the Warrens bring the concept of possession into the legal process. As the defendant (Ruairi O’Connor) attempts to fend off further incursions by the demon, investigate the initial possession, and find a rather unexpected cause that places them in danger.
There’s a lot to like here, The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It has an admirable amount of restraint, satisfactorily not going for full on gore, but maintaining a genuine sense of creepiness. The plot launches the Warrens on an investigation, racing to beat a ticking clock, and edging the film towards thriller territory. It brings Lorraine Warren more to the forefront by sidelining Ed due to a heart attack, while giving him more vulnerability. It even manages to balance its tone, landing a couple of comedic moments to lighten the tension.
However this only lands The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It in mid range territory for the series, and here we’re on a more tenuous ground as we discuss how a good horror film should actually feel. The individual pieces somehow don’t create a greater whole. There’s an emotional connection lacking here, making it feel competently made, but without any apparent pasion. Be it the lack of cheap scares, slow pacing, or missing growling subharmonics in the soundtrack, it just lacks that certain visceral punch that horror should have. You find yourself admiring the small aspects of the director’s technique, rather than being swept up in the work, clutching your seat as you try to stifle the constant “fight or flight “ messages from your limbic system.
In truth, this is a step up for director Michael Chaves from his previous Conjuring universe outing (The Curse of the Weeping Woman), but that’s a low bar to clear. The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It is a competently made sequel, but lacks that little bit of black magic to sweep viewers up into the world.
