For those hording toilet paper

As you can see by the title featured in James Wan's take on the whole 'demonic possession/paranormal' activity' craze flooding the marketplace of horror for the last six years, this is quite the old school, traditional attempt at causing girls in the theater to shriek (and a few guys, as was the experience in the theater I saw this film) and a steady, long-term dread built as something perhaps hides within a clothing cabinet or in the darkened area behind a bedroom door, down in the cob-webbed, spider-infested cellar, inside a crawlspace used as a hiding place from terror (the irony of this is that it was once used as a place of refuge but soon becomes an area of fear). Wan doesn't shy away from the techniques available to him today (like the scene where a sheet flies off a clothing line forming a human figure, heading towards a window, revealing the witch's demonic spirit from inside one of the girls' rooms), and he (probably at the urgings of the Hollywood Machine) can't help himself in regards to the loud score amping up the tension and sound effects that make damn sure someone trembles and shouts aloud. There's the bit with the hair pulled by the invisible spirit, hurling a girl across a room into a nearby door, shattering glass. I realize advertisements are designed to pull butts into seats. But the use of the hand clap from behind Lili Taylor in these advertisements just still leaves me pissed off. In the theater I saw this, there were people anticipating it and clapping right when this scene transpires. The whole potential surprise of it was decimated thanks to the number of advertisements using it specifically for marketing. I just felt disgusted when it happens. The door slams shut after that, temporarily trapping her in the cellar. God, did I love this house. This is a house right out of a different time, which was the intent. The number of children in the family of the couple left me smiling because my own family dating back two generations (on both sides, my father and mother's) were quite large; so the film wishes to authenticate that whole era when families were larger than the 2.5 kids in families of today. The house has a stairs and lots of rooms...in the theater there was an older woman sitting on the other side of her husband (sitting next to me) couldn't shut up about how she wouldn't in any way go into those creepy rooms or stay in the house. The wallpaper and paneling, the beds (and frames), the furniture, a piano (in the cellar and its tune used superbly in one ominous moment cutting through the silence). That this old, dark house does have such a disturbing history of violence and death, as if it is a beacon for or epicenter of horror, to me, adds a great deal to the effectiveness of the material. Can such horror, all that death, leave its imprint on the location itself? I am drawn to the horror genre because of the literary and visual storytelling that's possible in using a dark history in a certain location. The Conjuring is of that class. Wan, to make sure we understand when this film was set, dresses the cast accordingly and has plenty of 70s music involved. I did feel like there was a desired attempt to take us completely into that time. Much like Rob Zombie does always, there's an obvious sentiment by Wan (Ti West's House of the Devil was particularly praised for its efforts) to transport us successfully "back there", and I admittedly like taking the trip.

Before my wife and I went into the theater to see the film, we got a good look at this poster, with the shadow of the witch on the ground. I liked how the house was framed in the distance, with this distinctive tree of definite importance to the film right at the front.

I got expectedly giddy at the sight of the grandfather clock

A pivotal moment in the film given away by the trailer.

The family

Look out!

Possession imminent.

Here is my imdb review for the film:

James Wan’s mega-hit, seemingly a great movie for October wisely capitalizing on a summer absent much in the way of theatrical horror, can’t shake off its influences, such as Amityville Horror, The Exorcist, Poltergeist (there’s a static-screen television), and Paranormal Activity. To me, this was basically Wan’s contribution to the ‘demonic possession/paranormal activity/haunted house’ all the rage these days. It concerns a couple in the late 60s/early 70s who would, with the help of a priest and tech crew (well, the cameras and equipment, light bulbs, etc, of that time), research cases of demonic possession for people and cleanse them (or their property) of the horror ailing them. This film features a family of seven under siege by the vengeful spirit of a Connecticut witch lynched on the property (on this creepy tree fit for Sleepy Hollow); this witch possesses mothers and uses them as vessels to kill their children. So the five daughters of the family are in quite a bit of danger, not to mention, their mother will be a possession victim. The house is the real star, to tell you the truth; it looks the part of a 70s Amityville relic (upon ’71, the house had aged, with wallpaper, furniture, floor, windows, beds, stairs, a hidden cellar and crawlspace seeming to indicate it had been through years of time’s mistreatment, with cob-webbing in the mistakenly discovered cellar and crawlspace indicating more habitation from spiders than humans), and the space involved provides Wan with plenty of room to navigate his camera, following  the action of the characters (and spirits) throughout. While using a loud score and sound effects, courtesy of the Hollywood Machine needing to manipulate and manufacture terror from the audience, and descending into The Exorcist Lite, diminishes some of the power of The Conjuring, but the old school, traditional approach is appreciated (especially the use of the dark, and “what lies around that next corner or behind the next door?”). Atheists will probably find this unbearable as plenty of Catholicism (Christian iconography and dialogue) and spirituality find their way in the script and in how the evil is finally put in its place at the end. The reason you’ll see The Exorcist bandied about is mainly because of the end where Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga (Mr. and Mrs. Warren, Demonologist Couple) work to alleviate Lili Taylor’s Carolyn Perron of the witch possessing her. The usual crucifixes and holy water show up. Ron Livingston is the trucker husband of Carolyn, Roger, who is feeling helpless in regards to his family’s safety. A leg pulled, a demon leaping onto a victim, a victim lifted off her feet by her hair and tossed into a glass-windowed door, the ghost of a maid with slit wrists appearing to scare a guy, a face with flesh ripped away by demon-possessed Taylor, eerie handclaps from a clothing cabinet and in the cellar (ruined by advertisements, leaving the scene without the surprise) during hide and seek games in the house, and Taylor awakened by the witch’s spirit while sleeping: in the audience, every one of these moments worked, the theater had people shrieking and freaking out. I give credit where credit’s due: Wan builds these scenes, the music helping him (of course), and there’s the payoff. If the theater had remained bored and quiet, with phones lighting up and chatting remaining a deterrent, then I would have said The Conjuring was a failure, but the audience was held captivated and spellbound. Whether it was the situation involving a family terrorized by supernatural forces or the gradual escalation of the impending threat itself, The Conjuring worked on the crowd in the theater I saw the film. Too bad the film falls on the sword; Wan’s film is reduced to the clichés now so shopworn when it comes to demon possession. The cast is good, though, even if Taylor must work on her best Linda Blair towards the end. Like in Dead Silence, Wan returns to the doll, and there’s a marvelous scene where the witch’s spirit is creaking in a rocking chair holding the doll, scaring the daughter of the Warrens (yes, another tiresome cliché of the threat towards the heroes’ daughter is mined as well). Good opening use of the doll as an introduction to the Warrens, explaining how objects can be used as vessels for evil.