Twelve years and nine films after its inception, the Conjuring franchise no longer carries the freshness of its 2013 debut. That film’s polished throwback to 1970s supernatural horror gave the series instant credibility, but its successors have drained the novelty despite varied quality. Audiences still return in large numbers, proof of how powerful brand recognition has become in modern moviegoing, but is anyone truly eager to see what case the Warrens will take on next?
The decline in interest comes less from a collapse in quality and more from the limits of the premise itself. The first film hinted at limitless potential with its basement of cursed artifacts, yet it soon became clear that the real-life cases on which the franchise is based offered little room for variation. The Warrens are empathetic and well-acted but never change, the cases themselves are not that different from each other, and the original had already delivered a near-perfect execution of everything the material had to offer.
Fully aware of that fatigue, the studio leaned on every familiar franchise hook to sell this fourth chapter. The marketing promised a case that was “personal,” “the very last,” “the biggest yet,” with Ed once again battling his health. The result is better than those desperate slogans suggest, since the film wisely pushes these elements to the background and finds fresher ground elsewhere.
The case itself sticks to the template of the earlier films: a haunted family, a haunted house, and a series of escalating encounters. These beats are handled with the series’ usual efficiency, with strong performances and a handful of sharp scares. Still, the sense of déjà vu grows stronger as it revisits basement frights and builds toward a third act possession that becomes all too familiar and lingers longer than it should.
What sets this one apart, and makes it the most engaging since the original, is an unexpected father of the bride subplot. A surprising amount of the runtime is devoted to Judy Warren (Mia Tomlinson) and her fiancé Tony (Ben Hardy), whose chemistry brings warmth and heart to the film. Their conversations hold the attention, and a scene where Tony asks Ed and Lorraine for their blessing stands out as one of the franchise’s most memorable. Ed’s reaction delivers humor while Hardy’s earnestness is genuinely touching. This relationship provides the emotional weight the final act so badly needed.
The result is a fitting place to end the franchise. In the original, seeing the artifact room felt like peeking into a box of chocolates filled with varied flavors. Now, it feels like we have eaten the last satisfying piece. The mission has been accomplished, the stories told, the circle closed. Hopefully the studio resists the temptation of letting Annabelle loose one more time.