Coming as the re-activated bestselling author machine was continuing to produce film versions, regardless of quality, the first installment felt like a uninspired homage. Set against a small town 70s backdrop, teenage actors, gifted youths and twisted community predator, it was almost imitation and, comparable to the weakest the author's tales, it was also clumsily packed.
Interestingly the source was found inside the family home, as it was inspired by a compact narrative from the author's offspring, over-extended into a film that was a unexpected blockbuster. It was the narrative about the kidnapper, a brutal murderer of children who would enjoy extending their fatal ceremony. While molestation was avoided in discussion, there was something inescapably queer-coded about the character and the era-specific anxieties he was obviously meant to represent, strengthened by the actor playing him with a distinctly flamboyant manner. But the film was too opaque to ever fully embrace this aspect and even excluding that discomfort, it was overly complicated and too focused on its wearisome vileness to work as anything beyond an undiscerning sleepover nightmare fuel.
The next chapter comes as once-dominant genre specialists the production company are in desperate need of a win. Lately they've encountered difficulties to make any project successful, from the monster movie to their thriller to Drop to the complete commercial failure of the robotic follow-up, and so a great deal rides on whether Black Phone 2 can prove whether a brief narrative can become a movie that can spawn a franchise. However, there's an issue …
The original concluded with our Final Boy Finn (Mason Thames) defeating the antagonist, helped and guided by the apparitions of earlier casualties. This situation has required director Scott Derrickson and his writing partner Cargill to advance the story and its antagonist toward fresh territory, converting a physical threat into a supernatural one, a direction that guides them by way of Freddy's domain with a capability to return into the physical realm made possible by sleep. But different from the striped sweater villain, the antagonist is markedly uninventive and entirely devoid of humour. The mask remains effectively jarring but the production fails to make him as frightening as he momentarily appeared in the original, limited by complex and typically puzzling guidelines.
The main character and his frustratingly crude sister Gwen (the actress) confront him anew while stranded due to weather at a mountain religious retreat for kids, the follow-up also referencing toward Freddy’s one-time nemesis the Friday the 13th antagonist. The sister is directed there by an apparition of her deceased parent and what could be their dead antagonist's original prey while the brother, still attempting to process his anger and newfound ability to fight back, is tracking to defend her. The screenplay is too ungainly in its forced establishment, awkwardly requiring to leave the brother and sister trapped at a place that will also add to backstories for both hero and villain, supplying particulars we didn’t really need or care to learn about. Additionally seeming like a more calculated move to edge the film toward the comparable faith-based viewers that made the Conjuring series into major blockbusters, the filmmaker incorporates a faith-based component, with good now more closely associated with the creator and the afterlife while villainy signifies the demonic and punishment, religion the final defense against a monster like this.
The consequence of these choices is continued over-burden a franchise that was previously almost failing, including superfluous difficulties to what should be a simple Friday night engine. I often found myself too busy asking questions about the hows and whys of what could or couldn’t happen to become truly immersed. It's minimal work for the performer, whose visage remains hidden but he does have genuine presence that’s generally absent in other areas in the ensemble. The location is at times atmospherically grand but the bulk of the consistently un-scary set-pieces are damaged by a rough cinematic quality to separate sleep states from consciousness, an unsuccessful artistic decision that appears overly conscious and created to imitate the frightening randomness of living through a genuine night terror.
At just under 2 hours, the sequel, similar to its predecessor, is a excessively extended and hugely unconvincing case for the creation of another series. When it calls again, I suggest ignoring it.