Recently, my gal and I stumbled into the movie theaters for a showing of Annabelle Comes Home on a restless Friday night. It’s the third film in the Annabelle series and the sixth in the increasingly convoluted Conjuring universe. The very first film, The Conjuring, is destined to be a classic. The various spin-offs, however, including this most recent offering often pale in comparison to the original. They can veer from average to comically bad in a heartbeat outside a few compelling scenes and jump scares here and there. In short, Annabelle Comes Home was as fun as it was forgettable.
Horror can certainly be a genre that suffers from cheap thrills and tired formulas. Still, the dread, uncertainty and sort of deep, Jungian fear