Are the “Conjuring” movies the most intriguing franchise of this century? Eight films into the unlikely franchise, which began with “The Conjuring” in 2013, the series has earned a combined US$2 billion against a budget of less than $200 million. Horror films, especially in the last decade, have proven to be a reliable box-office bet for directors but it’s not the horror aspect that I find so intriguing about “The Conjuring”. In their preoccupation with the occult, the universe of “The Conjuring” – particularly the entries centred on the Warrens – have a fascinating interest in the mundane, rather than the supernatural.
That first film, buoyed by James Wan’s direction, positioned its horror through the lens of the domestic drama and the pseudo-biopic. Ed and Lorraine Warren, real life paranormal investigators, are famed in history. The iterations of them played by Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga are removed from that historical fact, even as the films coyly play around with the ‘based on a true story’ hook. What Wan got immediately, and which each successive film has realised even when it wavers, is that the union of Farmiga and Wilson situates a very specific kind of mundane spousal drama within their framework, making the heightened – and sometimes unsophisticated – horror tropes around them work so well.
It’s something I think of constantly when I engage with any entry in the universe.
Whenever I try to resist any fledgling interest in checking up on the franchise, I see an image of Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson regarding each other in staunch commitment or stolid fidelity, and my resistance begins to wane. So what if the later films lean into the cheesiness of their horror without the suavity or self-awareness that made the best entries work so well? So what if, like in the newest entry, “The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do it”, the story swerves too far away from its core at really being a proper horror movie? It is enough to observe Farmiga and Wilson performing one of the most devoted spousal pairings in any contemporary franchise this century.
But about that devil…
There’s a lot going on here, even as the film seems a lot less packed than its predecessors. “The Devil Made Me Do It” finds the Warrens in 1981. Although the opening initially positions the exorcism of 8-year-old David Glatzel as the focus, it’s Arne (his sister’s boyfriend) who becomes central. In the height of the possession, Arne (two squints and a dye-job away from being Lucas Hedges) pleads with the spirit to leave David alone and possess him instead. It does. And a few weeks later Arne commits a murder and goes on trial. This would be enough, but to add to that complication Ed witnesses the demon transport and suffers a heart attack, which renders him comatose and slightly less agile. The Warrens’ late realisation that the exorcism is part of something bigger is countered with the domestic strife of the couple testing their love for each other.
Of course, all will end relatively well. We know how these things go. But the journey is the story, and as the exploration of satanism gets on its way “The Devil Made Me Do It” is a legal thriller (it soon forgets this bit), detective piece and dual romance all in one. Kind of. And it’s also, sort of, a horror-movie. It’s a hodgepodge of different iterations of different kinds of film that feels admittedly frayed at the edges. The middle section is particularly unwieldly. Never bad, but just carrying a heft of plotting and exposition that feels confident enough but is also crying out for something riveting. But I don’t have it in me to really reject that middle for two key reasons.
One, the story saves its best moments for its beginning and end. It’s clear that the team behind the series is trying to branch out its horror roots, but it doesn’t quite have an idea of how to do this without focusing on the banal. So, “The Devil Made Me Do It” is best when it directly engages in the world of the occult, not in ways that are particularly new but with a clarity of vision and texture that is intriguing. The opening exorcism – as well as a final showdown in two locations, is more thrilling than horrific, but features some credible filmmaking. The second thing that’s important is that for all its lumpiness, the middle section gives us time to hang out with Farmiga and Wilson playing a domestic drama in fascinating ways. The decision to parallel the Warrens with the younger couple is a double-edged sword. Ruairi O’Connor is bland, if likeable, as Arne, who is defined by little more than his congeniality and Sarah Catharine Hook plays the brief emotional window she’s given well as his girlfriend Debbie. But by setting up their nascent romance, the script is able to really emphasise the union of the Warrens. And, your movie may vary, but for someone whose fascination with the series is rooted in the domestic sphere it works.
There’s an incredibly bad shot and cut in that middle section that involves a cliff that’s immediately followed by a moment of embrace between the couple. And it occurred to me that director Michael Chaves might be testing my patience. But then, the film finds a way to use John Noble (excellent, in a brief role) in just the exact way that you imagine a horror film like this would use him. Little here is new or unique, but it’s strangely warm and dependable in its developments. I might be perplexed by my own focus on the domestic in this franchise. But then, “The Devil Made Me Do It” ends with this incredibly beatific shot of Farmiga and Wilson in a kiss as Van Morrison’s “Brand New Day” plays. Like a shot from some different kind of movie about a couple doing what they can to make their way. And I think, James Wan and his team know exactly what they’re doing.
I may not believe in the devil, but I believe in the Warrens. And if they believe? Sure, I’ll tag along for the ride.
The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It is available on HBOMax, now available in Latin America and the Caribbean
