The Church of Cinema Proselytizing Again

This spawned a cinematic universe, huh. I'm not sure whether that's surprising because or explained by "The Conjuring" being pedestrian in its derivativeness. The director, James Wan, has also made entries for the Saw, Fast & Furious and DCEU franchises, so I guess he knows what he's doing. Still, the demonic-or-ghost-possession horror subgenre is a tiresome one, what with it already littered with so many other movies cribbing the likes of "The Exorcist" (1973) and "Poltergeist" (1982). Plus, this one is reportedly based in "The Amityville Horror," which has already resulted in a bunch of other films, including the 1979 and 2005 ones. It's such a tired genre that you might expect it to go meta by now, and you'd be right.

What movies such as "Scream" (1996) are to slasher flicks but without the jokiness or the explicit references to other films. Here, instead, we get earnestness bordering on parody and references to supposed past events in the career and lives of husband-and-wife demon-slayer duo the Warrens. Apparently, the Warrens are based on real-life so-called "demonologists," and the Amityville Horror and the one here are supposedly based on true stories, which is a claim that makes about as much sense as calling "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter" (2012) a biopic. Anyways, the Warrens' past as depicted here includes a past exorcism that was filmed. Thus, "The Conjuring" provides its own films-within-the-film rather than relying on the audiences' shared knowledge of past films outside its diegesis as in "Scream" and its ilk. Quite undemanding on its audiences' knowledge in that respect while also conveniently setting up potential future installments.

Given that the acting is wooden and that beyond a revolving camera shot here or there the filmmaking isn't anything special, either, and so there's nothing uniquely spooky about it, the one thing I found interesting was that the demonic possessions were made into films, which is a neatly reflexive abstraction of the making of the movie itself. There's even the mirror motif to reinforce how reflexive this is all is. They also record audio tapes, take snapshots, play with lighting and employ a motion-picture camera to later exhibit these films to either a priest exorcist or at colleges to what appear to be students who should be demanding their money back. This isn't academia; it's religion. And, despite all the Catholicism thrown around, with roughly an equal ratio of crucifixes and holy water to audial and photographic equipment, it's not really about that church. After all, during that amusingly-predictable climax, they don't wait for a priest. This is a cinematic cult. They don't even care if you're Catholic; they'll pretend your house is possessed by demons and try to frighten you into conversion regardless in the form of movies. That is a cosmology of sorts, and perhaps that's the underlying reason for its success.

I'll have to make use of my HBO MAX subscription and check out the direct sequels--I am not watching all the spin-offs--to see if this is developed any further, even though as far as popular cinematic universes go, I tend to prefer that my gods wear capes. And, that reminds me, it's time to attend "Loki" at that other corporate church.