BLACK PHONE 2 (2025) Scott Derricksen / Writers: C. Robert Cargill & Scott Derrickson / Cinematography: Pär M. Ekberg (2.35 : 1) / Design: Patti Podesta / Editing: Louise Ford / Composer: Atticus Derrickson / Acted by: Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Jeremy Davies, Demián Bichir, Miguel Mora, James Ransone, and Ethan Hawke / Countries of Origin: USA & Canada / A Blumhouse Production released by Universal / Rated R / Length: 114 mins.
I recall being quite enthusiastic over The Black Phone, noting, ”The first hour affords viewers more genuine nerve damage… than any Blumhouse horror outing since Paranormal Activity.” That was then, this is not, in what can best be described as a return to business as usual at Blumhouse. Denver, 1982: same phone booth, different movie. (Kudos for precisely pinpointing the period with Night Flight on the telly.) Four years after Grabber's death at the hands of Finney Blake (Mason Thames), his telekinetic younger sister Gwen (Madeleine McGraw) begins dreaming of homicides that occurred at Alpine Lake Camp in 1957. (Gwen dreams in grainy, hand-held Panavision Super8.)
Then she gets a call from the Christian youth camp that her dead mother attended in her teens. That proves to be a good enough reason for Gwen, Finney, and Ernesto to spend part of their winter at a deserted overnight camp. Miguel Mora is the luckiest kid actor in Hollywood. Though his character was done away with in part one, Mora has a second life here, returning as the brother of the deceased.
In the first installment, it was Finney who was on the receiving end of the mysterious phone calls. Now it’s his little sis’s turn to save the day — in more ways than one. Not only must she take down the Grabber, Finney has a reefer on his back! It’s at this point that the film veers dangerously in the direction of a Public Service Announcement.
Consider it a paid vacation for Hawke, who spends the first 53 minutes of the picture literally phoning in his performance. Scott Derrickson’s direction alternates between flash frames, jittercam, and showy jump cuts. And as much as I’m all for taking aim at organized religion, that fact that the uni-dimensional husband and wife evangelicals that run the camp exist solely to be slaughtered for shits and giggles isn't exactly a searing critique. No stars.
BLACK PHONE 2 (2025) Scott Derricksen / Writers: C. Robert Cargill & Scott Derrickson / Cinematography: Pär M. Ekberg (2.35 : 1) / Design: Patti Podesta / Editing: Louise Ford / Composer: Atticus Derrickson / Acted by: Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Jeremy Davies, Demián Bichir, Miguel Mora, James Ransone, and Ethan Hawke / Countries of Origin: USA & Canada / A Blumhouse Production released by Universal / Rated R / Length: 114 mins.
I recall being quite enthusiastic over The Black Phone, noting, ”The first hour affords viewers more genuine nerve damage… than any Blumhouse horror outing since Paranormal Activity.” That was then, this is not, in what can best be described as a return to business as usual at Blumhouse. Denver, 1982: same phone booth, different movie. (Kudos for precisely pinpointing the period with Night Flight on the telly.) Four years after Grabber's death at the hands of Finney Blake (Mason Thames), his telekinetic younger sister Gwen (Madeleine McGraw) begins dreaming of homicides that occurred at Alpine Lake Camp in 1957. (Gwen dreams in grainy, hand-held Panavision Super8.)
Then she gets a call from the Christian youth camp that her dead mother attended in her teens. That proves to be a good enough reason for Gwen, Finney, and Ernesto to spend part of their winter at a deserted overnight camp. Miguel Mora is the luckiest kid actor in Hollywood. Though his character was done away with in part one, Mora has a second life here, returning as the brother of the deceased.
In the first installment, it was Finney who was on the receiving end of the mysterious phone calls. Now it’s his little sis’s turn to save the day — in more ways than one. Not only must she take down the Grabber, Finney has a reefer on his back! It’s at this point that the film veers dangerously in the direction of a Public Service Announcement.
Consider it a paid vacation for Hawke, who spends the first 53 minutes of the picture literally phoning in his performance. Scott Derrickson’s direction alternates between flash frames, jittercam, and showy jump cuts. And as much as I’m all for taking aim at organized religion, that fact that the uni-dimensional husband and wife evangelicals that run the camp exist solely to be slaughtered for shits and giggles isn't exactly a searing critique. No stars.
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