Before recommending an unexpectedly successful horror sequel let us make an inevitable visit to pedantry corner. Set in 1977, The Conjuring 2 somehow manages to include a blast of London Calling (released 1979) and more TV footage of Mrs Thatcher than a mere leader of the opposition could reasonably have generated.
Yes, this is a film in which chairs fling themselves across rooms, nuns materialise in corridors and children get spirited into wall cavities, but it’s still important to maintain internal logic. Indeed, the pre-Thatcher British fug is a vital part of the film’s vile texture. So it’s good that they’ve got so much else correct.
As connoisseurs will recall, James Wan's The Conjuring starred Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson as real-life "paranormal investigators" Ed and Lorraine Warren. (Obviously any rational person would actually trust the sceptic played by Franka Potente, but never mind that.)
We begin with an efficient prologue that takes us through their researches into the famous Amityville Horror case. While Ed and Lorraine are gathering their strength, something equally horrible is happening in the London borough of Enfield.
The Hodgson family (headed by mum Frances O'Connor) can barely get through a David Soul record without some piece of furniture flinging itself at the fireplace. Even the telly's on the blink. Look how it switches from Mrs Thatcher to the Queen to The Goodies without anybody touching a button. It transpires that a previous owner of the house is not prepared to leave quietly.
Wan, co-creator of the Saw series, still stacks up his jump-scares in random patterns that don't allow tension to build as we might like. Much the same awful things happen in the first act as happen in the third. What he has achieved in both Conjuring films is, however, a very impressive accumulation of atmosphere.
The mobile camera enjoys itself greatly as it batters about a seedy set that never looks like anything other than a seedy set. This is a world in which digestive biscuits count as a considerable treat. This was a time when visiting Americans – the Warrens eventually lend a hand, of course – may as well have arrived from another, nicer planet.
A top-flight cast commits itself with great enthusiasm. Farmiga and Wilson take the hokum just seriously enough. Our own Simon Delaney and Maria Doyle Kennedy worry well as friendly neighbours. Simon McBurney wears good whiskers.
In short, The Conjuring 2 is a lot better than any of us had cause to expect. Do carry on.
