The Warrens’ last stand comes with warmth and atmosphere, though The Conjuring: Last Rites plays it safer than it should.
I’ve been a fan of The Conjuring series for a long time. The first one back in 2013 pulled me right back into horror with well-crafted scares, clever misdirection, and that feeling where you know something’s coming—but not when. The sequel matched it for me. The movies that followed, less so. Annabelle had flashes of the original magic, but The Nun? Just didn’t land.
So when I heard Michael Chaves was directing The Conjuring: Last Rites, I’ll admit: my excitement dimmed. Chaves has steered many of the weaker entries in the Conjuring Universe. That said, Last Rites has enough good stuff in it that I’ll probably watch it again.
Starting with what works: Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga are still excellent as Ed and Lorraine Warren. Their relationship brings a warmth to these films that I just haven’t seen anywhere else. Their chemistry gives the film its backbone, and you believe them as paranormal experts who sometimes have to admit they don’t have all the answers.
Visually and audibly, the film hits some of the notes I want. There’s still something satisfying about that 80s beige aesthetic—warm glow, muted tones, shadows in places they shouldn’t be. The atmosphere builds well, especially in sound: creaks, whispers, distant footsteps—the kind of sound design that works best in full surround sound.
The horror moments do arrive, and when they do, they’re well put together. I won’t say they’re leap-out-of-your-seat every time, but there’s a jolt every now and again. They lean on the Conjuring formula—inevitable demonic reveals, the dark spaces—but the film wears it with more confidence than some recent entries.
But—and here’s where Last Rites loses some ground—the horror is, in my view, too few and far between. The film spends quite a lot of its runtime circling the Warrens’ personal stuff, their past, their doubts, their “soap opera” moments. All fine in moderation, but when a demon is supposed to be terrorising a family, I want more of that action.
Another thing: formula repetition. It’s contagious in horror franchises. The Conjuring Universe has its rhythm—build tension, tease, payoff, brief relief, escalate again—and Last Rites follows that rhythm faithfully. The problem is, after several films, the surprises become less surprising. I felt a few moments coming miles off. Maybe I just preferred the way James Wan put these kinds of scenes together in the first two films. Something about the arrangement of the scares in The Conjuring: Last Rites and The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It just felt more flat.
Despite all that, I think the movie earns its title Last Rites. It does bring something like a satisfying closure to this long-running story, and there are scenes later in the film that feel poignant—there’s a weight to them you haven’t always seen in this franchise.
If I have a gripe, it’s that sometimes I wished the balance shifted some more toward horror than personal drama. I came for creepy shadows and demon voices, not always family conversations. But that’s me. It’s clear the film wanted to honour the characters as much as the scares.
The Conjuring: Last Rites is not the strongest entry in the series, but it’s better than many recent ones. Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga carry their roles well, the aesthetics and atmosphere deliver, and it gives longtime fans something that feels like a real send-off. If you’re in this for the horror, go knowing there are slower stretches. If you just want that classic Conjuring energy and a decent finale for the Warrens, you’ll get it.
Author: Ben, Marketing Team
