Director: Scott Derrickson
Notable Cast: Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Ethan
Hawke, Jeremy Davies, E. Roger Mitchell, Troy Rudeseal, James Ransone, Miguel
Cazarez Mora, Rebecca Clarke, J. Gaven Wilde, Spencer Fitzgerald
Walking into the theater, I had to double-check the ticket
on my phone. My significant other looked at me and said, “This film is just
over an hour and a half.” No way. I checked. She was right. It was a buck and
42 cents. Even though modern horror tends to pace itself faster than the
cinematic bloat that has dominated the megaplexes for the last handful of
years, there was a part of me that expected The Black Phone, the latest
from director Scott Derrickson and Blumhouse, to be more akin to other
kid-focused period horrors as of late. I.e. way too long for my enjoyment.
Thanks, Stranger Things and the two It films.
Quite frankly, in its own way, The Black Phone
represents the stylistic antithesis of the two previously mentioned slices of
intellectual property. Both of those properties succeed in feeding the nostalgia
while delivering their horror stories, but there is a sense that the nostalgia
is weaponized. “Remember when we were heroes on bikes? Free to learn about life
and fight our demons while making friends along the way?”
To an extent, those films had a gloss to them that shined
the candy coating for easier consumption by the mass. There's nothing wrong
with it, but it’s a very modern choice for movies that intend to ape their
period for nostalgia rather than wrestle with it.
This is why The Black Phone is different. Yes, it
technically hits many of the same ideas or themes about empowerment for kids to
tackle their own horrors while learning valuable lessons, but Scott Derrickson
(and co-writer C. Robert Cargill) are not nearly as content in caking the film
in Spielbergian cinematic sheen. There’s a grounded and gritty element under
the skin in this one that allows it to play more in the shadows, with
complicated relationships, and opaque morals that those others may toy with but
never grasp. And, instead of taking a whole day to tell it, The Black Phone
does it in 102 minutes.
