'Annabelle: Creation' Is An Unlikely, Thrilling Horror [Review]

When “The Conjuring” was released in the summer of 2013, it felt like a charming one-off – a deliberately old school and deeply chilling horror romp inspired by true events that placed as much emphasis on characterization as it did on crazy supernatural weirdness. More shocking than anything in the actual movie, though, was how it blossomed into its own mini universe, complete with a sequel and a small constellation of spin-offs, the first of which (“Annabelle,” centered around the demonic doll from the first film) debuted in 2014 and made $256 million on a budget of $6.5 million. The latest film, in what parent company New Line is now definitively referring to as a shared ecosystem of interlocking parts, is “Annabelle: Creation,” a kind of prequel-to-the-prequel that digs deeper into the origins of that possessed plaything. More surprising than the expanded ‘Conjuring’ franchise is how fulfilling and fun “Annabelle: Creation” really is. (And, it should be noted, this is coming from someone who hated the original.)

Since this is set before the events of “Annabelle” (which occur before the events of “The Conjuring”), “Annabelle: Creation” is set some time ago (let’s say the late ’40s), with a doll maker named Samuel Mullins (Anthony LaPaglia) and his wife Esther (Miranda Otto) suffering the tragic loss of their young daughter (wait for it) Annabelle (Samara Lee). Twelve years later, in an effort to bring girlish life back to their home, they invite several orphans and a nun, Sister Charlotte (Stephanie Sigman), to live in their rambling farmhouse. As you can imagine, things start to go bump in the night almost from the get-go, and, little by little, more of the doll’s origins are revealed.

Annabelle-CreationThat’s pretty much all there is in terms of plot, and, even within that basic framework, there’s not a whole lot of attention paid to specific rules or signposts. The only thing that is strictly adhered to is the concept that the doll cannot move. Otherwise, all bets are off. This is both a good and bad thing. It’s bad because you can never quite traverse the landscape of the movie’s internal logic. It left me asking questions like: did that creepy scarecrow rip open its mouth to reveal some kind of ghoulish black demon underneath just because? And how does that fit into the larger mythological framework that they’re trying to establish?

But at the same time, with the narrative freed of such strict adherences to storytelling soundness, the movie feels wilder, looser, and more surprising. If anything can happen (and, trust me, it does), then there’s never a way of predicting where the next scare will come from. And for a genre that oftentimes feels threadbare and hopelessly predictable, this cannot be commended enough.

Annabelle Creation

It helps, too, that Swedish director David Sandberg, who helmed last summer’s sleeper “Lights Out,” makes so many smart choices. The movie’s dusty color palette, indebted to the 20th century American painter Andrew Wyeth, feels unexpected. There’s a haunted quality baked into the images even before the spookiness starts, and the fact that so much of it (especially early on) is filmed in broad daylight adds to that feeling of uneasiness, like the horror can come from anywhere. Sandberg’s shot compositions have a classical feel, too, with lots of swirling unbroken shots (during one such moment, a character looks into the camera and knowingly says, “It goes on forever”) and clever transitions.

The fact that the movie is about a haunting that befalls young girls from an orphanage lends “Annabelle: Creation” the vibe of some kind of alternate reality remake of Guillermo del Toro‘s masterpiece “The Devil’s Backbone.” And just like that film, a lot rests on the shoulders of these young actors, who are more than up to the challenge. Talitha Bateman and Lulu Wilson, as the two leads, are wonderful. They play characters who start off as best friends, who vow to not allow a family to adopt one of them without the other, but who are slowly pulled apart by the strange forces swirling through the farmhouse. It gives the movie some nice metaphoric resonance, since without the bloodied bodies, it could be seen as symbolic of the horrors of adolescence. These are young girls maturing and drifting apart and battling some form of ancient wickedness. (If Wilson looks familiar in these surroundings, it’s because she starred in last year’s similar “Ouija: Origin of Evil,” which was also better than it had any right to be.)

Annabelle CreationIf there’s any question that this film slots into a much larger and more elaborate machine, there are a couple of pointed references to the other corner of this new universe. There’s The Nun, a character from “The Conjuring 2” that will be the center of its own spin-off movie due next summer, as well as a direct nod to the first “Annabelle.” Even if you aren’t extremely savvy when it comes to ‘Conjuring’ lore, it’s easy to get a kick out of these moments, especially if others in the audience are super keyed in.

No matter how seriously James Wan and the folks at New Line take “Annabelle: Creation” and its perceived placement in the franchise, its success comes from the fact that it is just a throwaway haunted house movie, one in which ghouls pop out from every corner, nothing is all that consequential, and scares are artfully composed and orchestrated even when they don’t make that much sense. Sandberg and his key collaborators have created something unlikely and thrilling all while extending ‘The Conjuring’ franchise in a clever way. What’s interesting is that you feel some of the tropes established by Wan come back in “Annabelle: Creation,” like those elegant tracking shots and the structural conceit of setting up objects early to be used in set pieces later on. While the excitement of these conventions hasn’t been lost yet, it’ll be a challenge for future filmmakers in this universe to create something of a piece that doesn’t feel old and dusty. Horror franchises are uniquely skilled at turning fresh ideas into tired clichés at a remarkable rate. In fact, it’s downright scary. [B-]