‘The Conjuring: Last Rites’ review: terrifyingly mediocre farewell to modern horror icons

Bustin’ makes you feel good! At least, it does if you’re a Warner Bros. studio exec, given that the Conjuring movies and their assorted offshoots have grossed an estimated $2.2billion worldwide, amounting to the most successful horror franchise of all time. It’s somewhat surprising, then, that this lukewarm pool of ectoplasm has been billed as the last in the main series.

Released in 2013, The Conjuring was a solid haunted house romp that ultimately descended into a lot of people running around in the dark, shouting at each other. That didn’t stop it from spawning three direct sequels, two spin-off series in the Annabelle trilogy (about a pesky haunted doll) and The Nun movies, plus a standalone flick (The Curse Of La Llorona) set within its “universe”, mind.

Why that movie; why this franchise? The answer is Lorraine and Ed Warren, the real-life married ghost hunters played by Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson, who questionably keep a basement filled with haunted paraphernalia collected from their ghoulish adventures. There’s something genuinely touching about their relationship: with none of Mulder and Scully’s will-they-won’t-they drama, they simply adore each other.

Directed by franchise stalwart Michael Chaves, Last Rites is largely set in 1986, a decade-and-a-half on from the main action of the first movie. By now, the Warrens’ reputation is a spectre of its former self. Pushed into a bustin’ hiatus by Ed’s dodgy ticker, they’re reduced to recounting their supernatural experiences to sparsely attended lecture halls; in one, a kid shouts out a Ghostbusters heckle. Afterwards, Ed bemoans the fact that they’ve become little more than an SNL skit.

Well, the pair are soon forced to prove their relevance as another of their real-life investigations gets the big-screen treatment. In Pittston, Pennsylvania, the Smurl family are being terrorised by a vengeful presence that’s wrecking the house and scaring the kids. This time, the Warrens are joined by their grown-up daughter, Judy, who seems mysteriously drawn to the household…

For at least half of its runtime, Last Rites is as handsome, solidly made and jumpy as the original. It’s never actually scary but Chaves (who took the main series’ reins from original director and franchise creator James Wan after 2016’s The Conjuring 2) has been generous with the popcorn-flinging set pieces that make these movies perfect date-night fodder.

Backed by his trio of screenwriters, he’s brought out all the big guns: a haunted doll (yes, another one!), horror references aplenty, one more creepy basement for good measure and even a brazen rip-off from The Exorcist. As the Warrens come closer to cracking the case, however, the action counterintuitively slows down and the film drags on like a demon who will not take the hint.

Said screenwriters appear to have been overawed by the sense of finality, resulting in a lot of faux-emotional babble that eats up valuable scream time. This might be more forgivable if the laughable final showdown didn’t, ironically, come off like a ropey SNL skit. Inevitably, the coffin door is left open for a future spin-off: expect The Conjuring to rise again.