Annabelle: Creation
Directed by David F. Sandberg
Staring Anthony LaPaglia, Stephanie Sigman, Talitha Bateman, Lulu Wilson, and Miranda Otto.
[rasting: 2/5]
Reviewed by Michael Dalton
What sort of party favours were my American colleagues treated to at their screening of Annabelle: Creation? Their praise has been high for this unnecessary prequel about an obviously evil and very ugly doll that was instrumental in the many woes that faced the two families of The Conjuring films (the first excellent, the second a weak pastiche). She worked as a chilling final shot for the firstConjuring chapter but she was just tiresome by round two, like a party guest who doesn’t know when to leave. Just burn the damn thing. Of course, good horror prequels have almost come back into fashion with Ouija: Origin of Evil confounding expectations after its dreadful first round. How over-zealous we were.
A quick refresher for those who have forgotten (and who could blame you?) what happened last time we were in this devil doll’s company. The 2014 film Annabelle opened in 1969 with a husband and wife witnessing a grisly double murder and one of them being attacked by the killers who as they die, drip blood onto the doll’s face. Soon after, invisible forces created havoc and investigations revealed cult connections and satanic worship. Lord it was a generic diversion but this new instalment makes its predecessor look like The Exorcist. More, more, more is what the movers and shakers in charge of The Conjuring universe decided so here we have just that: More. Aside from, it must be noted, an incredibly spooky scarecrow who deserves his own movie, Sandberg’s film will be another dull day at the office for horror afficionados.
Samuel Mullins (Anthony LaPaglia), a dollmaker, and his wife Esther (Miranda Otto) decide, after twelve years spent grieving the tragic death of their daughter, to open their remote home to Sister Charlotte (Stephanie Sigman) and a group of orphaned girls, one bitchy, one snotty, one permanently stunned, one semi crippled, and one near mute. Samuel is upwardly mobile but Esther is bedridden and lies in a dark room behind a veil in case anyone tries to sneak a peek. It doesn’t take long for Annabelle to set her sights on one of these tykes (I wouldn’t dream of revealing who) and soon the air is heavy, the screams are piercing, the doors are slamming, and so on.
Badly acted and contrived to a startling degree, I pondered in the days that followed that perhaps director David F. Sandberg meant it as a sly parody on all things horror. What other excuse could there be? With every scare blatantly telegraphed, this brainless drivel is dead on arrival. Shadows, apparitions, thumpety thumps, possession, and dismemberment, it’s all here just waiting to put you to sleep…again.
