Black Phone 2

The biggest problem with most sequels is repetition. Ideas taken from the first installment are run back with only a thin coat of paint to disguise them. Prior events are load bearing plot devices. Characters remain frozen in amber to ensure that if you liked them then, you'll like them now. Repetition is safe. Why try something new when you've already found an approach that works? It's why I'm rarely interested in sequels, no matter my opinion on the original: what more could a return to that world offer me?

So when an early scene of Black Phone 2 featured kids gathering around a school yard brawl, I was immediately skeptical. But as the camera approaches, we see that instead of Finney (Mason Thames) spectating alongside his sister Gwen (Madeleine McGraw), he's the one doling out the beatdown. After rising off his bloodied peer, he informs his sister that in a situation like that, "The more blood, the better. For the crowd. Makes a stronger point." The movie doesn't acknowledge that those lines were spoken by Robin in The Black Phone, nor does it point out that it's a complete change of character for Finn, from a quiet, shy kid to a bitter, overprotective, detached ball of rage. He refuses to engage with what happened to him, answering spirit phones with a blind "I'm sorry but I can't help you" before hanging up, and he's constantly surrounded by a cloud of pot smoke. Director Scott Derrickson (who co-wrote the script with C. Robert Cargill) has faith that audience will understand the character's progression, and his skill at storytelling proves him right.

This faith doesn't just apply to references to the earlier movie. The very first shot is of teenager Hope (Anna Lore) making a phone call from a booth next to a mountain-backed lake. We only hear her side of the conversation, and its those words that will echo throughout the plot, taking on new meaning each time they arise. Each time, the movie calls no extra attention to it; you either notice, or you don't. The narrative is better for it, as it adds depth for those who recognize the mirroring, but subtracts nothing if you don't.

Derrickson & Cargill don't dodge all the sophomore pitfalls, though. After avoiding lore for more than half the movie, the story screeches to a halt to inform us of the origins of The Grabber (Ethan Hawk), as well as lay out some rules. It's an understandable instinct, as the story heavily features the supernatural. But it still answers questions no one asked and begins to demystify the villain's strange on-screen presence. In addition, some forced melodrama arises between our main cast, despite not having any impact on their relationships. Then there are the couple of side characters who come in only to make space for Derrickson to lecture the audience about being "true Christians" before he satisfyingly dispatches them. Most of these stumbling blocks are encountered after the midpoint, sapping the film of the tremendous momentum it accrued in its first hour. They coincide with Derrickson undermining a number of his most dramatic and impactful moments with forced, awkward humor, showing a lack of confidence that the audience was game for the intense ride he'd crafted, and drastically weakening their power.

That lull is only so noticeable because of how immaculate everything is until that point. The beginning is quite nasty, far more reminiscent of Bring Her Back than 28 Years Later. Gwen's precognitive dreams take center stage, a welcome change after their misuse in the first movie. One by one, she dreams of three kids being brutalized by an unseen man, their corpses bobbing up to the surface of an iced over lake, wounds clearly visible, accompanied by a chaotic view of their murder. The gore effects are visceral, many of them causing you to shudder as their reality forces you to feel them, especially when applied to a particularly deserving character late in the story.

As in The Black Phone, Gwen's dreams are shot in Super 8, visually separating them from the real world. Whereas 1982 Colorado is clean and steady (albeit cut through by a chill that penetrates the screen), you immediately know when Gwen is asleep from the hazy images followed by disturbing snippets, lending it the air of a snuff film made by a murderer. Cinematographer Pär M. Ekberg is new to this entry and immediately leaves his mark by leaning even harder into that atmosphere, dialing up the film grain, using more quick cuts and odd angles, and emphasizing the handheld shakiness. Given how much time we spend in this dream realm, extended further by Gwen's sleepwalking and The Grabber doing a Freddy Kruger impression, seemingly a quarter of the film situates us in an uncomfortable, ethereal, beautiful haze.

By trapping the siblings in the middle of blizzard at the same closed Christian youth camp Hope attended, the cast is kept small and their emotional isolation is made manifest. They did bring along their friend, Robin's younger brother Ernesto (Miguel Mora), and there are a few camp administrators present, most notably Armando (Demián Bichir), but that's it. As perfect as Armando's weathered, tired aura is, he's mostly there to dispense some uninteresting explanations of what happened here twenty years ago. It's really up to the kids to help the deceased, all while trying to fight off a monster only Gwen can see who's nonetheless capable of hurling them around the room, and inflicting wounds that persist across the barrier of sleep.

Tying the gloom and dread together perfectly is Atticus Derrickson's compositions, proving that sometimes, nepotism works out. In his first feature-length score, the filmmaker's son crafts the perfect accompaniment, a droning and pulsing piece of work that compliments the rising tension on screen. Sure, some of it is riffing on or repurposing the auditory ideas from the original. But much of it is original, and its totality makes a much stronger impression, worming its way into your head and creeping down your spine.

Everything builds to a thrilling final sequence in which the kids take action, resuscitating the film after it was nearly bludgeoned to death by exposition. It's clever in its construction, gorgeous in its framing, and exhilarating in its tension. It even involves a bit of romance, tying off a thread it's been toying with all along. The only thing out of place is their father, Terrance (Jeremy Davies), who wandered up to the camp a short while before to check on them, and spends most of his screen time just standing around with nothing to do.

Its back half prevents it from reaching the heights of the year's best horrors, but this is nonetheless a successful and bone-chilling production. Derrickson elaborates on the world of the first one in a way that feels of a piece with it, but also stands alone as an enjoyable and earnestly terrifying time, once again delivering a handful of well-crafted jump scares. Its themes don't run very deep (facing your past, the importance of family, the wielding of religion to exert power), but that's more than made up for by its well-considered and tactile characters. In a year more focused on weaving complex tales of the horror of humanity, Black Phone 2 solidifies the series' villain as a monster fit for your nightmares for years to come.