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Fear as entertainment

By Will Moore

Seems as though getting back to “normal” isn’t as easy as one would hope. Travel advertised and events being announced, there is still this general sense of unease. As we make way out of bomb shelter battlements we have created out in our homes, what do we make of this new world? I see some with masks still on and wary to get close. That’s only natural given the fear we are inundated with now. And Hollywood is seeking to exploit that.

This past week Warner Bros. dropped “The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It,” the latest in the “fact-based” horror franchise. That phrase “Based on a True Story” crawling up the screen is doing a lot of heavy lifting. Once again we follow Ed and Lorraine Warren (played skillfully by Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga), investigating yet another case of demonic possession. This is of a boy in Massachusetts where an exorcism goes awry. His sister’s boyfriend takes on the curse and subsequently murders a landlord. The case made famous for its supposition that Arnie Johnson was made to do this by supernatural presences. But that’s where film and real life diverge. What we are left with is more of a detective story than a horror one. The cheeky reference to “The Exorcist” at the beginning won’t be lost on savvy viewers.

And unfortunately, that is where I was lost. The writers think they are cleverer than the audience, adding very little mystery and cheapening horror elements to render them meaningless. Our two leads being the only bright spot; focus pulled squarely on them. Unlike previous installments, the Warrens themselves start the story not the victims. This deadens any connection we’re supposed have with them. Who’s Arnie; what’s he like before all this? Who knows or cares? Certainly not the filmmakers. If you plan on watching this, I implore seeking out the real story for which it is based. Life, as always, is stranger than fiction.

Horror, like bigotry, is pernicious. Premiering on Amazon Prime in April, “Them” is an entirely different beast. Much like “American Horror Story,” creator Little Marvin seeks something self-contained. Southern-transplants the Emorys, a 1950s Black family, travel to the California town of Compton(then a white neighborhood). A realtor sells them on middle-class luxury, telling them to disregard a white covenant clause that were deemed illegal. This rears its ugly head when the townspeople want them out. This is a brutal show, however well-made and necessary. Episode five alone, where it is revealed why the family left North Carolina for the sunshine state, had me turning it off for a day to reflect.

A great deal of criticism has been leveled at depictions of sexual, racial and child violence; however well-intentioned and carefully considered. That being said, if one can stomach these aspects, I don’t regret watching it. I, however, don’t plan on a re-watch. Some have compared this to “Lovecraft Country” although that show doesn’t even come close to the craft on display here. The impressive acting, brilliant thematic writing, immersive production design; not a moment feels out of place or phony. And I haven’t even gotten to the ghosts yet.

Fitting that Stephen King praised “Them” for its horror. However, given the first couple episodes of “Lisey’s Story” on AppleTV+ can’t be given the same. Its maudlin portrayal of a grieving wife is in director Pablo Larraín’s wheelhouse; his film “Jackie” is a masterpiece. It is King’s slow writing and attempts at scares that seem fruitless. Only Julianne Moore’s performance has kept me going, but definitely not Dane DeHaan’s cartoonish villain. All the tropes you come to expect from the master of horror are employed but to little effect. Maybe I’m being too harsh, but hopefully things will pick up. Happy viewing readers.





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