Before I see The Conjuring 2, I thought I ought to look up the other entry in the series. Quite honestly, I didn’t come in expecting much. The Conjuring didn’t impress me and the killer doll storyline has practically been done to death, but I figured why not. Better go in having a complete feel for the world, right?
Final verdict: meh. Annabelle has a few interesting visual tricks up its sleeves – the basement scene in particular was much smarter than anticipated – but largely relied on underdeveloped characters, an overabundance of jump-scares, and made no use of the thematic subtext. For a period film set during the Manson murders, when occult paranoia was at its highest, Annabelle has nothing to say about this. With one exception, which I’ll get to in a moment, it didn’t have anything interesting to say about race or gender either. The entire point of period films in any genre is that they hold a mirror up to modern times and give the audience a new way to look at whatever themes and issues the characters are dealing with. Given that cults aren’t something we think about much in 2016, how would a family contextualize the violent events that happened to them in 1969, and how strange would that seem to the audience? It matters that these events happened to a stay at home mom, it matters that she’s white, and it matters that she’s middle class.
Or at least it should. Annabelle presents these facts, but doesn’t do anything with them. Visually, the film works as a period piece. It looks nice and the sets get the job done, but there aren’t any visual motifs or themes to dig around with. With the exception of the basement sequence, Annabelle is not an interesting film to look at. This isn’t a dig at the crew – it’s perfectly serviceable and its clear that everyone involved did their jobs – but just to point out that creating a world that looks like 1969 really isn’t enough to make a good film. A period film has to be made purposefully, with clear intent, and this one simply wasn’t.
All and all, Annabelle is underwhelming and forgettable. There’s nothing particularly bad about it, but it doesn’t do anything exciting. It does have the dubious honor of being inspired by true events, but that’s about as interesting as it gets.
Except for when it comes to the character of Evelyn, played by the wonderful Alfe Woodard. Evelyn is introduced in the second half of the film, a tenet in the building that Mia and her family move into, as well as the owner of a bookshop that happens to have a suspiciously large section on the occult. She’s a quiet, understated character, notable for her kindness and tragic backstory – the death of her young daughter, Ruby. Evelyn survived the accident that killed her daughter and fell into despair several years before the events of the movie, eventually attempting suicide. She survives but is left with a distinctive scar, claiming that she heard her daughter say that it wasn’t her time yet.
Thematically she works as a foil to Mia, both mothers who deeply love their daughters, but find themselves in disturbing situations because of that love – the impact of grief and depression in one case, and demonic possession in the other. It’s possibly Annabelle‘s only moment of thematic reflection, and their friendship gives the story weight that it otherwise lacked. And it could pass without comment except for a single fact.
Evelyn is black. Mia is white.
Now, I don’t think this is a case of the filmmakers trying to be racist or hurtful. I’ve seen that before. Unfortunately, I’ve even seen it recently. And if Annabelle weren’t part of a larger trend, then it really wouldn’t matter that Mia survives the film and Evelyn doesn’t.
Let’s look at that, shall we?
The climax of film is a tense standoff with the demon and the various parties involved, in an attempt to get the demon to give back Mia’s baby. The demon wants a soul – any soul, as it turns out, and not necessarily the baby’s – but that still requires someone to die. Mia attempts to do so, but is pulled back by her husband. Then Evelyn steps forward, declaring that this is what she’s meant to do, and kills herself.
Satisfied, the demon gives the baby back. Mia and her family have their happy ending. Yay!
Now step back and think about that for a second.
What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a black woman giving up her soul for a white woman. Evelyn literally states that this is why she survived her suicide attempt – so she could eventually sacrifice herself for Mia, a woman she’s known for less than a month. Annabelle treats this as an acceptable – even admirable – move, and the ending is presented in a positive light. The demon has been defeated, Mia and her family are implied to live out the rest of their lives in peace. There is no mention of Evelyn after her death. Sure, a demon ate her soul and she’s probably going to suffer in hell for all eternity, but gosh, that cute baby survived! All’s well that ends well, right?
The thing is, movies don’t exist in a vacuum. The stories we tell and the values those stories extol have a real and powerful impact on the world around us. And what Annabelle and other films like this say is that the lives of black women are somehow worth less than the lives of white women. I honestly don’t think this was done on purpose, but it’s another example of a harmful trend that has been in circulation for a long time.
As filmmakers, we have a duty to think about the stories we tell and the impact they’re going to have on the world. We have a duty to look at how we treat race in all films – horror and otherwise – and really think about what our stories say. These things don’t exist in a vacuum and if a narrative is repeated often enough, then it has a tendency to get absorbed into the popular consciousness.
The lives of black people – especially black women – cannot be devalued like this. Unfortunately, horror does not have a good track record on this count.
This is a notice. We are filmmakers and we have a responsibility to our craft. We can and should do better.