A few scenes in The Conjuring are as liable to elicit chuckles as shrieks of fright. But give director James Wan his due: He takes his audience slowly and relentlessly across creaking floorboards, foreboding crawlspaces and chilly basements, and dares viewers to steel their resolve and peer into the menacing darkness.
The Conjuring comes with a “based on a true story” tag, but it doesn’t need one. Such is Wan’s skill that he manages to make self-described (and real-life) ghost hunters/demonologists/devout Catholics Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) seem credible and empathetic. Wan intercuts sequences of the Warrens going about their business (lecturing, scaring college audiences with home movies of their fieldwork) with that of the Perrons, a good-natured family that has just moved into a secluded two-story home in a rural part of Rhode Island.
The farmhouse is classically creepy: set well back from the road, it seems to occupy its own world, one shrouded in cloudy gloom. Even after the Perrons have added their personal effects, the structure of the house dominates, and all we notice are the grime-streaked walls and doors. When unexplained hand-claps graduate to terrifying visions and phenomena, the Perrons call on the Warrens for help.
In The Conjuring, no one peers into a room only to turn around and suddenly be confronted by a dread apparition. Whether aiming his camera at a shadow or giving us a long, dread-inducing peek under the bed, Wan is finally doing what so many other filmmakers have inexplicably avoided: indulging in heart-stopping experiences that don't end in visual cliche. He understands that anticipation — not gore or even the confrontation with evil — is at the heart of a good horror film. Wan (Saw, Insidious) eschews cheap jump scares for something far more potent. He creates an eerie mood by moving patiently through space, building the viewers’ anxiety at what lurks inside a dusty, decrepit basement or antique armoire. He also takes his time ratcheting up the tension by showing family members (led by Lili Taylor and Ron Livingston) bravely seeking to discover the sources of various noises.
The Conjuring is, at heart, a very effective haunted house tale that benefits from Wan's occasional defiance of genre convention. He shows that even daylight and the company of others is no refuge from fear. There's something very satisfying about seeing the entire Perron family — mom, dad and five daughters — bunking together on the floor once it's clear they're rooming with a malevolent spirit.
This article appears in Jul 18-24, 2013.