Called out of a brief retirement imposed by a bedraggled Lorraine Warren (Vera Farmiga), she and husband Ed (Patrick Wilson) embark on a paranormal investigation in Merry Old England. It’s 1977 and not long after the two achieved notoriety for being at the center of goings-on in Amityville, New York. The Warrens are together again with director James Wan, as they were in the first Conjuring. What results is not merely the rare worthy sequel, but the even rarer sequel that actually tops the original.
Wan (Insidious, Saw) not only knows his way around a horror film, he’s an absolute master of the creation of sets that give a film like Conjuring 2 a stark and indelible foundation. Coupled with supple tracking shots and just the right soundtrack emphases and you’ve got one helluva scary movie. Fine acting doesn’t hurt either. Madison Wolfe, as Janet Hodgson, the 13-year-old who must endure the film’s many horrors, and Frances O’Connor as her frazzled mom, Peggy, augment the again excellent Farmiga and Wilson (it’s Wilson’s third consecutive effort with Wan).
The screenplay is oddly familiar yet doesn’t cross the line into overfamiliar. Jolts are pretty much kept fresh and devoid of any spoiling telegraphing. Loosely based on a real-life incident in London, Wan has on board as a consultant the real-life Lorraine Warren. Moving furniture, a TV that changes stations on its own, possessed toys, and a gravelly, rasping demon repeatedly usurping Hodgson’s voice, are just some of the fun and games here.
Veteran character actors Franka Potente and Simon McBurney play a pair of dueling skeptic/proponent supporting players. As usual, the Church can only be called in to provide an exorcist if a scam has been ruled out. Part of Ed Warren’s arsenal is a handy cross which he wields like a handgun. Yet, as usual, his wife’s perceptions provide the most reliant tool. Lorraine’s not feeling anything at first. Farmiga, always a convincing actress, will evolve Lorraine into a quite a higher level of involvement before she, and Wan, are through. By then, chills cascade like so many haunted-house muscle memories while Wan’s camera travels into untempered territories.