Annabelle is another tale of a doll possessed, a horror movie of such hoary conventions that we meet the “knowing priest” (Tony Amendola) in the first scene and we’re introduced to the helpful, occult-curious bookstore owner (Alfre Woodard) before the first act is through.
There’s nothing surprising about this late ‘60s tale, including its connection to the modern ghost stories told in The Amityville Horror and The Conjuring. But what it lacks in originality it makes up with in hair-raising execution. You will scream like a teenage girl.
Mia (Annabelle Wallis) and John (Ward Horton) may be the blandest Catholics late-’60s California has to offer. She’s a pregnant housewife, waiting on their first baby. He’s a young doctor and man of science.
A Manson Family-like slaughter hits the couple living next door and spills into their lives. That’s where the murderous cultist Annabelle got her hands on one of Mia’s antique dolls before she died. And that’s when stranger things than a Satanic murder cult attack start to happen.
Wallis, thanks to good luck, or bad, shares the name of the title character, which isn’t really the doll but the evil cultist who inhabits it. But Wallis gives a performance so flat, low-heat and soft-voiced that you wonder what the director was telling her. Surely the sound crew was shouting “She needs to SPEAK up.” If the meek are going to inherit the Earth,Wallis and Mia will surely be landed gentry.
Her underplaying almost works as a counterpoint to the rising terror of cinematographer-turned-director John R. Leonotti’s vintage effects – baby carriages that roll on their own, noises in the attic, dudes dressed like Satan. We’re lulled to sleep by the acting, jolted when something we’ve seen a million times happens.
Cast: Annabelle Wallis, Ward Horton, Alfre Woodard, Tony Amendola.
Director: John R. Leonetti.
Screenwriter: Gary Dauberman.
A New Line/Warner Brothers release. Running time: 98 minutes. Intense sequences of disturbing violence and terror. Playing at: area theaters.