The twisted magic of the original Conjuring movie seems awfully distant these days, doesnt it? In James Wans 2013 horror hit about a big blue collar family being tormented by an ancient demon, old-fashioned jump scares and a relentless sense of dread mixed expertly with a deeply human story; the fact that we cared about the characters made the chills that much more affecting (and that much more effective). Despite the studio budget, that ghost story possessed an elegant simplicity as well, with Wan fashioning one of the most disturbing scenes in modern horror: A simple image of a young girl staring at the patch of darkness behind her bedroom door, insisting that there was someone right there. It wasnt so much the darkness that sold the scene; it was the girls face, and the absolute, teary-eyed terror it conveyed. Since then, however, this horror franchise has added spin-offs (see: the Annabelle films) and doubled down on the jump scares and genre pyrotechnics. Worse, its forsaken the people. Each new entry feels a little more insistent, overdetermined and soulless.
Set in 1952, The Nun purports to be a prequel to the demonic shenanigans of the earlier Conjuring-verse movies and it starts off promisingly enough. Two nuns at the Romanian Abbey of St. Carta confront a demonic presence in a forbidden corner of the ancient building. (Theres even a sign marked God ends here.) One is consumed by the darkness; the other hangs herself off the side of the abbey to prevent this mysterious evil from finding a host in her body. Experienced priest Father Burke (Demian Bichir) is called by the Vatican to investigate, and because its a convent, hes assigned a partner of sorts in young novitiate Sister Irene (Taissa Farmiga, the young sibling of Conjuring star Vera Farmiga), who has been touched by a variety of religious visions over the years. The duo head to Biertan, Romania, and meet up with a local peasant known as Frenchie (Jonas Bloquet), who discovered the corpse. Their attempts to investigate the young womans death are complicated by the fact that everyone is acting strangely: They scurry mysteriously in corners and rarely talk. Even the Abbess herself, whose face we never see, only speaks in an ominous creak from behind a dark veil.
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Initially, the movies gathering sense of menace and director Corin Hardys evocative use of the Romanian setting (with lots of craggy, mountainous vistas and ominous shots of the sky) feel like a welcome throwback to Wans original. But tragically, we get little sense of these central characters which seems like a missed opportunity, as there are only three of them, and 90 whole minutes of movie to fill. Father Burke feels remorse over a wartime exorcism he conducted on a young boy, but the film does almost nothing with his regret; the child simply becomes another supernatural clich pursuing our hero through the halls of the abbey. Something similar happens with Sister Irenes visions, which contain an obvious and pointless clue to be revealed near the end of the film (when they could have revealed something about this young womans character instead). Meanwhile, were told the abbey was bombed during World War II, and that this may well have something to do with the evils now emerging a potentially resonant idea that here becomes just another cheap narrative convenience.
The creepy, somber mood, so expertly established in The Nuns early scenes, doesnt last either: Once everyone gets to the abbey, the film simply gives up the ghost and cynically indulges every horror trick in the book. Hands burst through doors and grab people; crosses magically turn upside down; nuns go flying or are set aflame. Along the way, we are inundated with creepy reflections and figures plunging out of the darkness and, of course, those obligatory oh-god-whats-that-over-your-shoulder shots. A little of this stuff goes a long way, and a lot of this stuff doesnt go very long at all. True horror requires anticipation to work properly, but its hard to anticipate anything when everythings already being thrown at us. The dread dissipates. Our screams become nothing but weary sighs.
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