Rating summary

Movie		2.5
Video		4.5
Audio		4.5
Extras		2.0
Overall		3.5

Annabelle Blu-ray Movie Review

Before 'The Conjuring' there was... a mediocre prequel.

Reviewed by Kenneth Brown January 19, 2015

After the initial shivers subside, Annabelle isn't all that frightening. It isn't all that anything, other than a bit eerie, which, for this reviewer, would apply to just about anything involving an inanimate object wreaking supernatural havoc on a family of innocents, particularly when that inanimate object is a doll. Shudder. A demon-possessed doll. Double shudder. Rather than innovate, terrify or surprise, Annabelle settles for familiarity and cliché. What it doesn't import directly from its predecessor, James Wan's The Conjuring (rightfully a fixture on many a 2013 Top Ten list), it shamelessly lifts from a dozen other films; a little here (The Exorcist), a little there (Rosemary's Baby), something old (1978's Magic, 1987's Dolls), something new (the Insidious series), all of it repurposed in an uninspired throwback that specializes in prefab atmosphere, cheap tricks and treats, and plenty o' jump scares. But no worries. It failed miserably at the box office, right? Right? Of course not, silly boy. It made over $250 million on a $6 million budget. Annabelle 2, here we come.

This is where it all began for Annabelle. Capable of unspeakable evil, the real doll exists, locked up in an occult museum in Connecticut, visited only by a priest who blesses it twice a month. The film begins before that evil was unleashed. John Form (Ward Horton) has found the perfect gift for his expectant wife, Mia (Annabelle Wallis): a beautiful, rare vintage doll dressed in a pure white wedding dress. But Mia's delight with Annabelle doesn't last long. On one horrific night, the Forms' home is invaded by members of a satanic cult, who violently attack the couple. Spilled blood and terror are not all they leave behind. The cultists have conjured an entity so malevolent that nothing they did will compare to the sinister conduit to the damned that is now Annabelle.

If there's a respite to be found it's that screenwriter Gary Dauberman (Swamp Devil, In the Spider's Web) and director John R. Leonetti (Mortal Kombat: Annihilation, The Butterfly Effect 2) stick to the rules established in The Conjuring (for which Leonetti served as cinematographer). Annabelle doesn't talk. Doesn't stalk. Doesn't wield a knife, grab a knife, even look at a knife. She certainly doesn't teeter about the Form house in search of her next kill. The doll itself isn't the source of evil; the malicious entity haunting it is, and it's that demonic possession angle that empowers the film's creepiest sequences. Annabelle isn't Child's Play. No matter how frequently its cameras press in on the titular beastie, or how loooong those zooms last, the doll refuses to crane its neck or wink its eye. The unfortunate flipside is that the demon isn't very creative, doesn't hold much sway over life and death, and isn't all that, er, demon-y. The Conjuring's even features a scene involving Annabelle midway through its second act; one that's infinitely more disquieting and effective than the whole of what we get here.

More problematic are Annabelle's script, performances and low-camp jolts. Providing a straight-laced, drive-in horror-movie origin for the demon is a tragic misstep, robbing the doll and its inhabitant of any mystery whatsoever. A satanic cult? That's what we're going with? The actors do their finest with what they're handed I suppose, but, as written, the Forms and the friendly folks who pitch in to help them are about as bland as genre protagonists get. Wallis' Mia is by far the most interesting, though so much of her character is informed by Mia Farrow's Rosemary that it's hard not to compare the two. (No contest. Farrow wins.) Horton's John is duller than dull. I just can't tell if its the dutiful husband as written or Horton's stiff gaze and flat delivery. Tony Amendola and Alfre Woodard bring more personality to the mix as a kindly priest and a grief-stricken mother, but we've seen the meddlesome pastor and haunted confidant before. Several times over, in fact, and Annabelle doesn't inject anything remotely fresh into either horror archetype. Combined with Annabelle's bargain-bin, direct-to-video scares -- which are already earning yawns and laughs by the film's climax -- the film begins to feel as if it were made, not set, in 1969. And no, classic movie buffs, not in a good way. (Unless you focus on the production design, in which case kudos to the art department.)

Annabelle isn't a terrible prequel. It's functional. Serviceable even. But it isn't terrifying either. Or a very well-written spin-off. Or a decent popcorn muncher. Or much of a guilty pleasure. Or a satisfying horror film. Or comparable to The Conjuring. Or... you get the point. Dauberman and Leonetti had all the pieces they needed to build something tangible. Eerie. Unnerving. What went wrong is anyone's guess, although mine involves pointing at their previous writing and directing efforts, which tell you everything you need to know. Why Warner handed a potential franchise to the man who gave the world Mortal Kombat: Annihilation is beyond me. Maybe he sold his soul to the devil. If so, he should've added "and it has to be a good film" to the contract.

Annabelle Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Visually, Annabelle delivers. Warner's 1080p/AVC-encoded video presentation is excellent, easily the high point of the disc, and doesn't waver for a second. Hints of crush and noise haunt darker scenes, but they're inherent to the original photography, so no surprise there. Colors are subdued and desaturated, but perfectly echo the dim, dusty '70s palette of The Conjuring. Contrast holds firm, black levels are appropriately sinister (or insidious, if you're looking for a cheaper shot), and clarity is rewarding. Edge definition? Refined and clean, without any ringing or aliasing in sight. Fine textures? Carefully resolved and oh so revealing. Close-ups? Revealing. Delineation? The same. Moreover, artifacting, banding and other anomalies that go bump in the night are nowhere to be found. Yes, Annabelle occasionally exhibits a digital sheen that's contrary to its 1969 setting, but it's hardly a distraction, and barely warrants a mention.

Annabelle Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

Annabelle's DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track may exacerbate the film's jolt-n-jump shtick, but that's the movie as designed, so the mix does it's job and does it very, very well. An effectively hushed dread precedes each low-end thrum and multi-channel assault on the senses. The scares rarely scared me, but the sudden sonic barks and shouts? Got me every time. Rear speaker activity is downright malicious in that regard, toying with the listener before attacking, and directionality is all too accurate, allowing the various horror beats to hit with power and precision. There still isn't much surprise as to when a jump-scare will come; but the jump-scare earns its keep anyway, which is exactly what a good horror mix should provide. Dialogue remains intelligible and smartly prioritized too, regardless of how quiet or chaotic the experience grows, and the music is balanced flawlessly with the rest of the soundscape. Annabelle might fizzle, but its AV presentation does not.

Annabelle Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Production Featurettes (HD, 20 minutes): The Blu-ray release of Annabelle offers four short 4-5 minute behind-the-scenes featurettes -- "The Curse of Annabelle," "Bloody Tears of Possession," "Dolls of the Demon" and "A Demonic Process" -- but none of them provide any real in-depth insight into the film or its production.
• Deleted Scenes (HD, 21 minutes): Eight lengthy scenes, but nothing of consequence.

Annabelle Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Annabelle should have kept me up for weeks. Instead it nearly put me to sleep, and I'm one of those poor saps with an unhealthy fear of dolls. Porcelain dolls especially. (My mother had a collection she kept in our living room; a living room with an oversized bay window that moonlight loved to pour through. Down the hall, my room was situated across from the bathroom, meaning any late-night trip out and about was met by dozens of glowing glass eyes. Not a healthy way to grow up.) Its script lags, borrowing mercilessly from better films. Its performances sag, without much for the actors to grab onto. And its story amounts to surprisingly little; a conventional prequel to its surprisingly unconventional (and superior) predecessor, The Conjuring. I'd suggest renting Annabelle before buying. If you do purchase a copy, though, you'll be treated to an AV knock-out. It's light on the supplements, but its presentation at least helps justify the cost of admission.