In The Conjuring: Last Rites, the power of family compels a warmly sentimental finale. Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson have nobly steered James Wan’s Conjurverse for over a decade, turning paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren into beloved on-screen “Horror Mom & Horror Pop” figures. Michael Chaves helms his fourth Conjurverse entry and best yet, stepping from Wan’s shadow by finding some semblance of a signature voice through the Warrens’ generational values. The film still lacks that special Wan-of-a-kind oomph when it comes to jump-in-your-seat scares, but Chaves sends the elder Warrens off proper (if the fates seal Last Rites as their goodbye).
Ian Goldberg and Richard Naing’s rewrites of David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick’s screenplay, based on a story co-concocted by Wan, tell a moderately balanced tale with three critical yet uneven components. There’s Ed and Lorraine’s retirement, daughter Judy (Mia Tomlinson) and boyfriend Tony’s (Ben Hardy) blossoming relationship, and Pennsylvania’s infamous “Smurl Haunting.” The Warrens are plotting their happily ever after, but Jack Smurl (Elliot Cowan) is begging for divine intervention as a demon torments his West Pittston household. Ed and Lorraine ignore calls for help—Lorraine’s more concerned about Judy’s intensifying interactions with the undead—except there’s no Conjuring movie without a supernatural case.
The Warrens have one more assignment before calling it quits. Unfortunately, it's their least memorable fight against blasphemous malevolence.
Unlike The Conjuring and its sequel, Last Rites refuses its exorcism duties until the third act. The Smurls are tormented by malevolent invaders throughout, from sweat-drenched levitations to bloody bile spewing, but storytelling is more about the Warrens finding their peace. It’s a love letter to the tremendous roles Farmiga and Wilson have embodied over the years, in what’s inarguably the sweetest and most sitcom-friendly Conjuring of the bunch. Ed and Lorraine crave the white picket fence lifestyle; Ben’s a delightful addition as this lovable golden retriever of a partner who accepts Judy’s chased-by-ghouls quirks. There’s a brightness, almost chipper demeanor about Last Rites that lets Chaves play with Malickian cinematography as the Warrens develop past their professional identities.
However, this causes a rupture in storytelling as we bounce between Warrens and Smurls. It’s the least defined any marked family has felt. Chaves strives to grant Farmiga and Wilson the outro they deserve, but such emphasis treats the Smurls like second-rate protagonists (because they are). Horrendous demonic experiences blend into a generic cacophony of fearful gasps or screams. Last Rites spotlights the Warrens, but leaves the Smurls waiting for salvation in a way that undercuts the franchise’s mystery-solving formula. Our time spent with the Smurls isn’t as memorable as the Perrons or Hodgsons, and that defect is noticeable.
My biggest point of contention with Chaves’ Conjurverse titles thus far concerns scare tactics, because—plain and simple—he’s borrowing from Wan’s playbooks without the craftsmanship. That’s still a wee smidge true in Last Rites, which has some raucous Insidious or The Conjuring brand jump scares, but only in short bursts. Chaves can land the haymakers—a grinning granny’s face popping into frame, or an axe slam that breaks eerie silence—only to lose command of drawn-out, full sequence thrills. Callbacks to “The Crooked Man” draw a smile, blood gushes from unnatural places, and you'll endure nasty visuals related to an antique mirror that houses the film’s prevailing evils, yet there’s still no bulletproof sense of scene-by-scene tension. Chaves’ wham-bam trickery earns its squeals, and that’s admirable enough … just don’t expect Last Rites to usurp or even sniff at The Conjuring or The Conjuring 2.
Thankfully, the core players of Ed, Lorraine, Judy, and Ben thrive thanks to splendid performances. Farmiga and Wilson’s last Conjuring as headliners is bittersweet, because these two still have the juice it takes to captivate audiences as the Warrens. Mia Tomlinson steps in as not only Lorraine’s Mini-Me, but her rightful protégée as demon hunter extraordinaire. There’s a swell of comfort as Judy doesn’t just play a scared child, but becomes the impetus behind helping the Smurls (a passing of the baton, perhaps). Then you've got Ben, who dives headfirst into the Warrens’ unholy battles with a sense of innocence, trepidation, and honest devotion to the woman he adores.
Not the elements you'd expect to praise in a Conjuring film, yet here we are.
To say Last Rites is the third-best Conuring movie isn’t meant to throw heaps of shade. The Conjuring is damn near perfect, and The Conjuring 2 isn’t far behind. Chaves isn’t James Wan, that’s become apparent over his last four pictures, but The Conjuring: Last Rites sees him break from franchise-bred shackles that’ve relied on replication. It's nothing phenomenal, but it's an upgrade from The Devil Made Me Do It, and points Chaves trending in the right direction. If Last Rites truly is Ed and Lorraine’s farewell bow, at least Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson get their flowers in bushels. [3/5]
