Disappointing Conjuring sequel The Devil Made Me Do It strays from the template set by James Wan’s supremely effective original and its longer, louder, slightly less effective encore.
Print
The Times is committed to reviewing theatrical film releases during the COVID-19 pandemic. Because moviegoing carries risks during this time, we remind readers to follow health and safety guidelines as outlined by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and local health officials.
All hell breaks loose early and often in “The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It.” A creepy old Connecticut house shudders in the grip of demonic forces that shred the wallpaper (an improvement, honestly) and tear at the body and soul of an 11-year-old boy, triggering acrobatic contortions so violent they make Linda Blair’s head spins look like hot yoga. If “The Exorcist” seems by now too obvious a point of reference, it’s one this movie nonetheless invokes, first when an old priest arrives on this misty night and later when a heroic young man dares the devil to abandon the poor boy and take him instead.
Years ago, I learned that certain people will grow mortally offended if you call a character in a movie a zombie who is not, in fact (according to the supreme checklist of zombie traits), a zombie. It makes you wonder if there are other supernatural micromanagers out there who keep tabs on whether a given […]