'The Conjuring: Last Rites' review: Patrick Wilson & Vera Farmiga seem perfectly paranormal

Warner Bros. Pictures

Damn rite, those malevolent spirits are at it again. But who you gonna call? Hey, let us call Ed (Patrick Wilson) and Lorraine (Vera Farmiga) Warren so they can settle things once and for all. The Conjuring: Last Rites is billed as the closing chapter for this dynamic duo, serving as the ninth film in The Conjuring Universe and a sequel to 2021's 'The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It'. After a flashback that shows Lorraine's traumatic (re)birth of the couple's child in 1964, we fast forward 22 years to 1986 when the Warrens' careers as paranormal investigators are winding down and their now-adult daughter Judy (Mia Tomlinson), who also has a connection to the spirit world, is getting serious with her boyfriend Tony Spera (Ben Hardy).

While the Warrens want to be done with evil, evil isn't done with them. In West Pittson, Pennsylvania, the Smurl family's home turns into a playground for demons after one kid receives a mirror as a gift. Said mirror is obviously a bad luck charm because the Warrens came across it 22 years ago during one of their investigations, influencing the traumatic birth. The two families' paths meet and the Warren family must break out their exorcising kit once more.

Written by David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick, Ian Goldberg and Richard Naing from a story by Johnson-McGoldrick and James Wan, that itself based on characters by Carey W. Hayes and Chad Hayes (say all that 10 times in a row and the devil will probably appear), this supernatural horror is compelled to give Ed and Lorraine a warm sendoff whilst attempting to dish out popcorn thrills and scares every 15 minutes or so. Regarding the former mission, it is clear that the creatives care about these characters and actors playing them, and so there's quite a bit of weighty material given to them. Their family storyline balances unconditional love and the parental urge to shield your child from harm. Some of this stuff works great and is affecting, some of it is just fine, but the writers manage to sprinkle in hints of playful humour and lightness in the midst of horror, which feels refreshing for the series.

Where the haunted house of cards begins to crumble is pretty much everything that isn't Farmiga and Wilson's interplay. Having now seen this movie, the previous 'The Conjuring' and the atrocious 'The Curse Of La Llorona', director Michael Chaves is always found at the scene of a crime when we're talking about borderline incompetent horror filmmaking or, more importantly, a voice that has nothing to say. First of all, one would be willing to look past the Catholic propaganda of these films if A) it came from a sincere place by the filmmaker rather than a desperate ploy to maximise box office profits, or, B) the film was either moving, inventive or impressive in any capacity. The bad news is that Chaves' direction doesn't have the juice whatsoever and it treats audience members like they're the kind of idiots who would run into a horror villain's knife by themselves.

Second of all, "Last Rites" is a miserable experience and aside from the VFX artists and production designer John Frankish creating a respectable period piece, it's a near disaster visually and aurally. Together with cinematographer Eli Born, Chaves turns in blocks of grey, horrid skin tones and horribly lit indoor spaces, which is embarrassing when working at this sort of budget level. There is one shot featuring Hardy in front of a fake basement window that is a contender for the ugliest shot of the decade. Editors Elliot Greenberg and Gregory Plotkin make matters worse with shoddily arranged, mostly annoying jump scares while structurally the story is a hot mess, underlined by text cards, poor transitions and an overlong runtime. (It seems the goal was to create an ambitious horror epic based on the converging storylines, but the material in its final form wasn't good enough and therefore the movie was cut to pieces).

Even if you were to close your eyes and imagine you've sat down to watch something better, Last Rites' soundscape would ruin your fantasy. All the screechy sound effects and composer Benjamin Wallfisch's stock horror music score are also unimaginative and annoying. For what it's worth, Chaves' control over the mix here isn't entirely incompetent like it was in "La Llorona" where the jump scares were just way-too-loud sound clusters trying to hide the lack of scary atmosphere and decent acting, but it's only marginally better. On top of everything else, the movie earns a spot in the cinematic hall of shame when it comes to a use of thunder and lightning as the director, the lighting team and sound designers' work there is next-level awful.

What's not weak are two performers in the main cast. Farmiga gets little backup from the script and direction, which mainly make her give YouTube thumbnail faces, but the actor's translation of Lorraine's love and fear in her bond with Judy is possessed by earnestness. Wilson, however, is easily the anchor here since he delivers a great performance. His dramatic chops come through as Ed carries resilience on one shoulder and a specific kind of weariness on another, but he also hits the few comedic beats flawlessly, too. A project like this doesn't deserve such dedication, but it makes you feel somewhat glad that you stuck it out to see these two fine actors close out their character arcs with grace (and hopefully for good). This would've been a much better story had the filmmakers let these two actors cook in peace instead of rushing towards another underwhelming demon appearance.

Less successful is newcomer Tomlinson who is unfortunately very much out of her depth acting against Farmiga and Wilson. The arrival of the money trucks at the box office indicates that there will be many more demons for younger Warrens/Speras to conjure in the future, and if that is indeed the case, it'd be very helpful if Tomlinson can step up her game. Taking a loud breath between every single sentence would not only inspire a lethal dangerous drinking game but it's also very distracting and amateurish. It's something that preferably your first acting coach or, let's say, a capable director should notice and put a stop to.

But again, for what it's worth, Tomlinson is not the only actor who is inexplicably performing for the last row at London Palladium, even in closeups, since almost everyone portraying a Smurl family member is overacting constantly. One final drop of holy water on the floor when it comes to casting is the very ending where the film is begging you to recognise filmmakers and actors from previous movies making cameos. Personally, I was able to recognise one filmmaker, but this bit is so awkwardly shot, edited and implemented that it just emphasises how inconsequential these actors and characters were in the grand scheme of things. Maybe, just maybe, there is a superfan or two pointing at the screen, but I wouldn't hold my breath.

So what are we left with once the lights have been turned on and one final generic string section screech has been heard? We're haunted by an egregiously hollow and poorly made horror spectacle, as well as a truly terrible director in Chaves. Even Wilson and Farmiga's total commitment cannot save this movie's soul from the filmmakers' devilish ineptitude. Furthermore, letting an ancient demon ravage you and send you to the afterlife seems like a blessing as long as you don't have to hear another deafening sound effect and wander around a dimly lit grey room ever again.

Smileys: Patrick Wilson

Frowneys: Directing, sound mixing, editing, Mia Tomlinson

How does Lorraine prefer her steak? Medium.

1.5/5

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