The Conjuring 2

Wan is still effective in creating memorable and horrific imagery that lingers in the mind, as well as moments of levity in-between that are surprisingly genuine and sweet.

It is a basic thing done very well, in many ways a pristine example of what Wan always shows up to do. He's going to keep you anxious  --  nothing can feel totally stable when a camera never ceases to move.

What folks aren't really talking about is how romantic the film is.

Even when you're squirming in your seat from the sheer length of the film, you'll definitely find yourself jumping out of it a lot too.

What's entertaining here is that they leave the usual Amityville surroundings for a damp and mouldy council semi in Enfield, London, in 1977, where the Hodgson family is being plagued by a poltergeist.

Wan knows what he is doing, and more often than not this sequel offers up enough in the way of thrills and chills to satisfy.

You can't tell from its beginning, but the second Conjuring is even more proficient, deeply troubling, and most of all, bold in the way it renders the possession horror genre a canonical must.

There is a very old-fashioned horror movie approach to these films that I adore. The sequel wisely embraces that formula while also telling another compelling story from the Warren’s casebook.

Wilson and Farmiga hold the otherwise typical proceedings together, making the usual mechanics of a filmic haunting feel dialed-up on emotional terms.

Superior to the first film.