THE CONJURING 3: THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT (2021)

And The Conjuring train keeps chuggin’ along! After four spin-offs of varying quality following the release of The Conjuring 2 in 2016, The Conjuring 3: The Devil Made Me Do It returns us to the primary series. Following its production announcement, there were a lot of “oh, really?” reactions in the horror community. The first worrisome development was that James Wan, who had directed the previous two Conjuring films along with new classic Insidious and unfortunate cultural touchstone Saw, had opted to reduce his involvement to a producer capacity, citing a desired break from working in the horror genre (that is, before making Malignant, an unrelated horror film). Being someone who considers himself a fan of Wan’s horror output, and also being someone who recognizes that the scripts for the first two Conjuring films had been bland, rote, and very familiar but which had become solid genre pics because of Wan’s direction, I assumed the magic was over. When it was additionally announced that The Conjuring 3 would be directed by Michael Chaves, an untested director who only had The Curse of La Llorona to his name – one of the blandest genre movies to come out in a long time (and which crammed in a five-second appearance from Tony Amendola’s Father Perez from Annabelle to force an otherwise non-existing association with the Conjuring series) – The Conjuring 3 seemed doomed. And here we are, all these years, pandemic delays, and strange rumored plot points later (werewolves! Amityville!) and The Conjuring 3 has landed with a soft okay.

It’s the ‘80s! And the Warrens are still driving around in their Mystery Machine solving spooky cases like the meddlesome kids they are. Their opening-scene reintroduction sees them assisting on an exorcism of a young boy named David (The Haunting of Hill House’s Julian Hilliard), which doesn’t go all that well until one of the main characters, Arne Johnson (Ruairi O'Connor), wills the infesting demon out of David and into his own body. The Warrens soon discover that this isn’t a “simple” case of possession like so many of their previous romps, but that Arne is actually in the midst of a “curse,” which means whomever has cursed him can basically rent him out to an interested demon for a few minutes at a time so said demon can get its avatar on and do some murderous mischief…and only one frumpily-dressed, demonologically-experted middle-aged couple can stop them.

Despite my glibness, The Conjuring 3 isn’t the disaster I expected it to be, even walking away with what I’d confidently describe as the richest and most complex screen story yet from the entire Conjuring universe. As mentioned, the first two Conjurings, though far superior to this newest entry, were built on a foundation of very familiar stories, bandying plot points we’ve seen before in the genre. In fact, the story that inspired The Conjuring 2 had been previously explored with 1992’s incredible and controversial Ghostwatch and 2015’s solid BBC miniseries The Enfield Haunting. In the face of their stories’ familiarity, Wan ably brought them to life using his uncanny talent for creating shockingly creepy images – and each entry directed by him has more than one example. The Conjuring has the leaping wardrobe demon and hanging specter; The Conjuring 2 has the Crooked Man – eerie creations brought to life and depicted in such a manner that they stick with you after the movie has concluded. The Conjuring 3, though it sidesteps the typical haunted house story in favor of murder mysteries, courtroom drama (which it needed more of), and witchcraft, is desperate for this same feat, leaning not once but twice on a chase sequence involving a very rotund and bloated corpse seemingly borrowed in concept from 2019’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, but which doesn’t contain the same staying power. Though this feels like one random example, it sums up the experience of The Conjuring 3 as a whole – not as good as what’s come before, somehow including the two most recent Annabelle spinoffs, but also much better than tripe like The Nun. The makings for terror are there, and the opening exorcism scene involving a small-statured stunt actor depicting some insane (and very real) body contortionism is genuinely unsettling, but it also unfortunately establishes a level of scares that the remainder of the film simply can’t recapture.

The Conjuring 3’s main issue is that it’s overdone, as if Chaves believes on-screen chaos and fear are interchangeable, whereas Wan had previously proven many times over that a calm, stationary shot which builds on that misleading foundation of calm is ripe for sudden terror – see the “let’s play Hide and Clap” sequence from the first film for an ideal example. Wan’s Conjuring films established and maintained dread; Chaves doesn’t know how to do that. Though he doesn’t flat-out rely on cheap jump scares like the ol’ cat in the closet, some of his “boo!” choices border on that kind of style, like boosting the decibels of a little kid doing nothing more than ripping a sheet off a bed. Instances like these are harmless of course, as the flick knows that genuine scares are coming soon, but they are leaned on a little too often and they set the tone early on that this new entry doesn’t have anything in store beyond gotcha moments.

Keeping things alive are the returning Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson as the ghost-chasing couple, whose performances and holds on their respective characters haven’t changed in the face of a new director. They are the constant component in these films and the rock around which their various conflicts are eventually cleansed. The script by David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick offers them small moments of humanity to bring light into another dark story, notably the scene where Lorraine insists on investigating a cobweb-ridden crawlspace and Ed tries to deter her by saying it will ruin her dress, leading her to say, literally, “hold my purse.” Is it too on the nose? Sure. But it also works because we’ve seen the horrors this couple has lived through and it’s nice to see them act like real people instead of the somewhat cartoonish bible-brandishing superheroes the film world has turned them into.

Speaking of, nothing annoys a horror fan more than using the words “based on a true story” across a film’s marketing, because in so many instances, the studio is testing the durability of the word “based.” The real-life Warrens have left behind a lifetime of strange and unexplained work with seemingly irrefutable proof of the supernatural, but you’ve also got a large, vocal group of naysayers who called the couple charlatans and frauds. Even if you accept their body of work as fact, the Conjuring series has always pushed those facts to their breaking points, with this latest entry going so far off the reservation that you have to wonder how much people who see the words “based on a true story” are willing to believe. In a historical sense, the Arne Johnson saga – the murder of his landlord and subsequent court case – was faithfully retold; everything having to do with the curse and “the Occultist” (Eugenie Bondurant) was entirely fabricated, and though that sounds like a fair balance, the Warrens’ hunt of the Occultist makes for the bulk of the flick, and once the finale arrives and takes place in a ludicrously complex underground tunnel system beneath a simple farmhouse that is given zero explanation for its existence is what tips the movie’s scales from true morbid history to utter farce. (For those interested, there exists a 1983 made-for-TV movie called The Demon Murder Case, also based on the Johnson case, starring Kevin Bacon.)

With The Conjuring 3 having gone to theaters and HBO Max during the eye of the pandemic, the flick still managed to rake in 200 million, becoming another bonafide hit for the franchise. Despite that, there’s been no chatter involving The Conjuring 4 (except for a dozen websites running “here’s everything we know” articles that conclude absolutely nothing is known), and none of the previously announced spins offs like The Crooked Man and The Nun 2 appear to be moving forward. I would, of course, welcome The Conjuring 4 – also, of course, depending on who’s at the helm.

ARMY OF DARKNESS (1992)

1981’s The Evil Dead conjures incorrect associations. A film made by talented but inexperienced kids was meant to be "the ultimate experience in grueling terror," but its inherent hokiness due to its lack of budget, unknown and untested actors, and filmmakers learning as they went soon became mistaken for intended comedy. And that changed everything.

The Evil Dead, despite what fans may think, was never meant to be funny. And it was during its initial screenings that its creators saw the audiences laughing at scenes which weren't meant for laughs and thought, "uh oh, we better start making them laugh on purpose." That decision would change the direction of all future installments (and, much further down the road, television series). 

Evil Dead II: Dead by Dawn would feature laughing mule heads, rocket-propelled eyeballs, and disembodied hands fighting their former bodies. Audiences loved it. They couldn't get enough of the new Three Stooges-inspired slapstick and gross-out humor. And its cult appeal led to a major studio getting behind what began as Evil Dead III, and then The Medieval Dead (still the best title), and finally Bruce Campbell vs. Army of Darkness. 

With an actual budget on which to depend, the universe of The Evil Dead exploded, throwing time travel, dripping castles, and armies of skeletons into the mix. Tree rape was exchanged for zippy, kid-friendly one-liners. Melting faces and bodily dismemberment were swapped out for shrieking witch faces. Bruce Campbell's Ash went from being the horror-film equivalent of Die Hard's John McClane to that version of Bruce Willis who was recently thrown out of a Rite Aid for refusing to wear a face mask. (If you’re reading this in the year 2050 or something, Google “COVID-19” to see what the hell I’m talking about). Through being assaulted by his demon-possessed friends and a living woods, he transformed from hapless hero being tossed through bookshelves into a cocky, womanizing, and sometimes unlikable bad-ass...while still being tossed through bookshelves. Audiences grew to love this version of Ash, and that was/is their right. This iteration has come to define what the brand of The Evil Dead and its main hero means to the masses. Stop someone on the street and say, "Give me some sugar, baby!" and they'll say "Army of Darkness!" Stop that same person on the street and say "Tree rape!" and they'll call the cops.

This change from outright horror to a comedy/horror hybrid (leaning heavily on the former) doesn't always work and causes Army of Darkness to come off a little tone deaf. And from the second-act sequence beginning with Ash being victimized by a handful of little Ashes, ending with the sequence where he shoots Evil Ash point blank in the face, Army of Darkness becomes insufferable. But then the stop-motion skeletons show up and save the day - and the film.

Army of Darkness, the film, is what it is. It boasts legions of worshipers eager to quote it at every turn and it will be one of the forever-remembered titles of the horror genre. Bruce Campbell is totally within his element, offering an admittedly fun if occasionally overbearing performance and reinforcing why audiences love the character of Ashley J. Williams in the first place. Those like me who are indifferent toward Army of Darkness are likely in the minority. Likely the most popular cult title of all time next to The Rocky Horror Picture Show, this romp against the Deadites has long been a fan favorite, and no amount of curmudgeonly dismissal is ever going to change that. 

Just hide all the bookshelves.

DEMON WIND (1989)

I have to wonder why films like Night of the Demons and House are so celebrated, but meanwhile, Demon Wind has remained so obscure. Every bit as silly, gory, teen-douched, and well-intended as those other titles, it should have been destined for the same kind of infamy and video store-stoked adoration. It scratched that VHS-era itch with all the usual stalwarts one would come to expect from the genre: ghastly effects, over-the-top gore, hapless teens in peril, a dash of nudity, and skeletons.

For fans with a love for Night of the Demons or Demons/Demons 2, Demon Wind could be the newest love of your life, thanks to its practical effects, rubber and foam monsters, and lots and lots of blood and goo.

Demon Wind is made with the same kind of authenticity as the original Evil Dead while also borrowing a little of its aesthetic. (And plot.) (And tone.) (And look.) To call it a bold-faced ripoff might be taking things a bit far, but I’d feel pretty confident in saying that Demon Wind probably wouldn’t exist without The Evil Dead. It balances the horror and the drama in the same way, striving to concoct legitimately eerie imagery without the foresight to know that while the filmmakers were hoping to create things from your deepest, darkest nightmares, they were instead creating something that’s going to look just a touch silly.

You pretty much know the caliber of acting you’re going to get with a production of this size (read: not big) and the sub-genre in which Demon Wind exists (read: rubber monsters), but again, this only adds to the flavor of the film’s overall experience. Your lead hero, Cory (Eric Larson), looks uncannily like Emilio Estevez and coincidentally brings about the same kind of sincerity, even doing better here than Bruce Campbell did during his own maiden descent into demonic territory. Everyone after that exists on a sliding scale, with some performances ranking very below average.

Amusingly, Demon Wind just keeps introducing teen characters to the conflict, and after having digested enough of these kinds of films from this era, you can’t help but smile because you know every single one of these kids are going to die gloriously. Even as Demon Wind begins to run out of demon fodder halfway through, it introduces two more characters who were “late” following Cory’s initial invitation and who don’t last for too long once they get out of the car. (Also look for an early-career appearance from Lou Diamond Phillips as one of the many demons.)

If you’re the kind of person who used to wander up and down the horror aisle of the video store during the golden VHS era but Demon Wind has somehow evaded you all these years (as it did me), rectify that. It’s the kind of silly but imaginative (and gory) horror flick you would have stayed up late to watch with friends once your parents had gone to bed. One could never reasonably call Demon Wind good but it is fun, and when you’re dealing with a horde of zombies and animated cow skulls and succubi that leave nothing to the imagination, that’s all you could ever ask for.

NIGHT DANGER

I love this.

TALES FROM THE CRYPT PRESENTS: DEMON KNIGHT (1995)

It was the summer of 1995. I was about to enter the fifth grade, but by then I was already a total horror junkie, much to the chagrin of my very worried mother. Efforts on her part to prevent my delving into the horror genre were met with refusal, dismissal, and probably a lot of whining. By this point in time, I'd worked my way through the entire Halloween and Friday the 13th franchises and was halfway through Hellraiser. But such viewings had to be done in secret. Should my mother throw open the door to our finished basement and descend the stairs to put in a load of laundry, I had to quickly shut off the tape of whatever horror VHS I'd been secretly watching and pretend instead to be watching one of those courtroom television shows or whatever happened to be on during that 3:00-5:00 weekday block. I was fooling exactly no one with this maneuver, but she was likely satisfied by my attempts. In her mind, at least I knew I wasn't supposed to be watching it.

My parents decided they wanted to take an overnight trip during that summer, sans kids, so my brother and I were dropped off at my uncle's for the weekend. It was a pretty cool and relaxed affair - my uncle's ideas on what were suitable movies and TV shows for kids were a bit more liberal than my mother's - so when my cousin announced she would go to the video store and rent some movies for us, I jumped at the chance.

"Can you see if they have Demon Knight?" I asked. Chronologically, I don't remember what came first: my devotion to HBO's Tales from the Crypt television series, or my obsession with collecting the 1990s' reprint run of EC Comics' Tales from the Crypt, The Vault of Horror, and The Haunt of Fear. I just knew that Demon Knight was out there in the world on blocky VHS, and I needed it in my eyeballs, stat.

"There's nothing bad in that, is there?" my uncle asked, merely out of obligation.

"It's about dummies," I lied. (Although it was kind of true. There was a dummy in there, after all.)

And so my uncle gave my cousin the nod of approval and off she went. She later returned with a pile of junk food and a big plastic VHS rental case for Tales from the Crypt Presents: Demon Knight.

And we all watched it together: my uncle, my brother, a few cousins, and myself.

What followed was ninety of the most exhilarating minutes of my life, as my straight-edged, non-horror-loving family sat in total slack-jawed shock that little unassuming me was into such ghastly things: body mutilation! heads being punched off! clomping dummy jaws! electric sex! a room filled with tits! Dick Miller!

The room was astounded that such a movie even existed in their world; and had it not been for me, in what circumstances would they have ever laid eyes upon it?

Never. 

But what permeated through that room for one of the silliest, ghastliest, most taboo-shattering communal experiences ever to happen among unsuspecting family members was tantamount to how the theatrical experience must've been prior to the invention of the cell phone.

How crazy would this movie get?

How far would it go?

Is that Lowell from Wings?

Nudity already?

The horror genre has been a big part of my life, and there are certain titles I will always hold in higher regard than others, for they were my gateway films. They were the titles that made me realize horror was my life, and no matter how good or bad they got, I would love them in equal measure.

Demon Knight is one of those titles.

Never had there been such a successful leap from small screen to big by the time Demon Knight wrenched free from its 30-minute constraints to unleash on audiences a full feature film of demonic debauchery, gruesome violence, the blackest of gallows humor, and wobbling dummy heads. Nothing was lost in translation. The chaotic sensibilities of the show, the unashamed look at violence and pulpy storytelling, and the nudity - oh, heavens, the nudity! - all survived that trip from television screens to theatrical exhibition. Demon Knight has everything: unrestrained violence, thrilling action, sexual titillation, excellent performances, and C.C.H. Pounder throwing up directly on the camera. Who wouldn't love this?

Director Ernest Dickerson, who only had two films under his directorial belt at this point (he'd been a longtime DP for Spike Lee), seems like he were born to take on the horror genre. (Well, sort of.  He's also responsible for Bones - the awful Snoop Dogg urban horror film, not the awful forensics show for white people.) Dickerson's visual design is fully informed by the comic book aesthetic: blues for dusky interiors, browns for the war flashbacks (the staging of which seems heavily inspired by the covers of Frontline Combat, EC Comics' lesser known imprint), and let's not forget the neon green demon blood. Nearly every frame of Demon Knight is decked out in bold and vibrant comic book colors, tending to favor blue more than anything else. Brief flashbacks to the Christ crucifixion, or the marauding demons with their glow-in-the-dark eyes creeping around like raptors while set against the blue/black desert night sky, enforce his talent for capturing compelling images. He also chose a hell of a cast. There are no signs of the typical executive producer throwing his cast-preference weight around (more on this during the Bordello of Blood review). When William Sadler plays the hero and a pre-Titanic Billy Zane plays the villain, you know these were actors chosen specifically by the director for their talents and their appeal. They weren't chosen because of their box-office draw or their recognition among audiences. Additional names like C.C.H. Pounder, Thomas Haden Church, Charles Fleischer, and a pre-fame Jade Pinkett (Smith) confirm that the best possible actors were chosen for their roles, and not for their marquee value. And that's amazing, because that hardly happens anymore.

Demon Knight, to this day, remains an absolute favorite. The perfect flick to play on Halloween, or late at night when the whole world is quiet, Demon Knight is one of the funnest horror films to come along throughout the entire horror movement. Only when horror films turn the tables on their viewing audiences and take on a full-meta approach (Scream, The Cabin in the Woods) are when it seems safe for these audiences to admit they had fun at the theater. But there were no self-awareness gimmicks needed to tell Demon Knight's story. It didn't need to be in on the joke to be fun. Based on grisly comic books from the 1950s, Demon Knight isn't ashamed to be what it is, and doesn't hide from its point of origin. It exists only to be thrilling and entertaining and titillating, and that's exactly what it does. Don't even fight the smile that forms at the corners of your mouth when watching it. Don't act like you're above seeing demons drip glow-in-the-dark neon blood all over the ground as they shriek and smash in all the windows. When Billy Zane is out in the desert doing his best Beetlejuice impression and calling his soon-to-be victims "fucking ho-dunk, po-dunk, well-then-there motherfuckers!," just ENJOY IT, because this film was made for all of us.

Films like Demon Knight barely exist anymore. And when they do, they're called "throwback" and "homage" and "grindhouse," because of the rarity in which they come into being. Tales from the Crypt is a solid brand with a built-in appreciation, and so it's a shame that the second attempt at bridging the gap between television and features would be with the miserable Bordello of Blood - a film so heinously bad that it would spell the end for Crypt-branded features. While there has been an ongoing attempt by M. Night Shyamalan to reintroduce Tales from the Crypt to a new generation, so far nothing has manifested, so all we have is what's come before: the comic line, the British feature adaptations, the HBO series, and then its subsequent features. There's a lot of good in that legacy, and some not so good. Demon Knight is among the best.

A PATIENT POSSESSED

Nurses deal with death on a daily basis, so it’s hardly surprising that many turn to religion as a source of wisdom and comfort. However, encounters with demonic forces may also influence nurses’ views on the battle between good and evil. In a chilling tale on AllNurses.com, one nurse shares her experience with a dying patient who was more than he seemed.

According to the nurse, the patient suffered from a variety of ailments that could end his life at any time. However, the man was terrified of death and raged at the nurses to keep him alive.

“Every time his heart monitor beeped, he would go into a rage screaming, ‘Don’t let me die! Don’t let me die,’” the nurse writes. “We soon found out why he didn’t want to die.”

One night, the patient took a turn for the worse, and the nurse rushed into his room with emergency supplies. However, she wasn’t prepared for what she found.

“This man was sitting about two inches above the bed and was laughing,” the nurse writes. “His whole look completely changed. His eyes had a look of pure evil and he had this evil smile on his face. He laughed at us and said, ‘You stupid bitches aren’t going to let me die are you?’”

After this frightening outburst, the man went into cardiac arrest and died 20 minutes later. However, the terror was far from over. Five minutes after a doctor pronounced the patient dead, the newly-deceased man sat up in bed and started to laugh, saying “You let him die. Too bad.” What happened next sounds like something from a horror movie.

“We heard a horrible, agonizing scream and then you could hear ‘don’t let me die’ whispered throughout the unit,” the nurse reports. “Every one of the nurses that night was pale and scared. Nobody went anywhere by themselves. By morning, the whispers of ‘don’t let me die’ were gone.”

 Story source.

YOUR SWEATER SUCKS COCKS IN HELL

Usually when one buys clothes second-hand at shops like Goodwill, one just wonders whether it's been laundered properly. But Pat Robertson brought an entirely new worry to the fore on Monday's episode of his "700 Club" program. Responding to an email sent in by a viewer, the elderly televangelist said that, while not all clothes have demonic spirits attached to them, it never hurts to take some precautionary measures.

Robertson was answering a question from viewer Carrie, who wrote:

I buy a lot of clothes and other items at Goodwill and other secondhand shops. Recently my mom told me that I need to pray over the items, bind familiar spirits and bless the items before I bring them into the house. Is my mother correct? Can demons attach themselves to material items?

Robertson answered Carrie's question with a story about a girl who was troubled by a ring that had been prayed over by a witch. "She had to buy it and all hell broke loose because she finally recognized what it was," Robertson said, before claiming that demonic spirits can certainly attach themselves to objects.

Now, does this mean all second-hand clothing is a vessel of the devil? Not exactly, according to Robertson, but "it ain’t going to hurt anything to rebuke any spirits that happened to have attached themselves to those clothes.”

Goodwill's website encourages those who wish to make a donation to launder or dry clean clothes before bringing them in.

RUN!

Story source.

Image source.