"Mom, I just heard a voice down in the basement, calling for Paul." -- Bobby Parker (Tyler Reid)
It's questionable when even a historical movie claims to be a "true story," although I'll maintain that a fair recreation of D-Day, for example, does just as much to convey historical context as does reading some historian's second-hand description in a book. The difference is, of course, I'm firmly convinced that D-Day actually happened. I am less convinced of any supernatural nonsense.
You've seen it all before. Just like The Amityville Horror and any of its sequels, remakes or imitators, a nice American family moves into a quaint (aren't they always) old house which, not more than 10 minutes later, somebody must suspect is haunted. Usually, it's built over an ancient Native American burial ground; in this case, the house was once a mortuary. The only major difference, if it is, is that in this picture, the family is already preoccupied with morbidity as the oldest son, Kyle (Matt Campbell), is dying from cancer. Not only is Kyle waiting to check out, but so is the film's token exorcist, Father Popescu (Elias Koteas), probably the meekest, whiniest exorcist in movie history. It's not like Max Von Sydow commanding "The power of Christ compels you!"; it's more like, "Hey, if it wouldn't be too much trouble..."
I won't indict the technical crew's reliable work, especially production designer Alicia Keywan, who performed similar work in 2007's The Messengers, and the obligatory manifestations every five minutes are all staged creepily enough to make at least half the audience jump in their seats. I wasn't jumping as much as I was squirming because it all seemed so...familiar, despite the novelty of having Academy Award-nominated actress Virginia Madsen as the harried mom.
At least director Peter Cornwell does what he can to maintain some plausibility. My objection to these things is not the fact that I just flat-out don't believe in the supernatural. I don't believe in space wizards with laser swords, either, but I can, briefly, if a movie requires me to accept that as its premise. However, my ability willingly to suspend disbelief flags when presented with the scenario of little kids playing hide and seek with their babysitting aunt and hiding in the darkest corner of the house where an animated corpse materializes. The next scene is fairly normal, which it wouldn't be. My kids would be so hysterical that such an event would have to be addressed for some scenes afterwards, although it's just as likely that, if it were my kids, it would be the demons screaming in terror. Later, the teenage aunt, after a similar encounter with demoniac forces, reaches the apparently obligatory cinematic decision, "Well, time to take a shower." Obviously, these people don't watch enough movies.
Or maybe I watch too many. Maybe I shouldn't watch these things because I feel like I've seen it all before. Bet you have, too.