The Devil Inside (2012)

R, 1 hr. 27 min.  Directed By:  William Brent Bell, Joaquin Perea.  Release Date:  Jan 6, 2012. 

Dammit.  In the wake of The Devil Inside, I'm having homicidal thoughts about the creators of The Blair Witch Project, because I'm pretty sure that those were the jokers that brought about the horror shockumentary.  While I vaguely find the idea intriguing, I've never, ever seen one that I liked.  Not Blair Witch, not Paranormal Activity, not The Fourth Kind or any of that wave of utter crap that's been trying to pass itself off as "real" horror.  

There's a lot about life that scares me.  International coach flights, the chance that Ashton Kutcher might breed, and the chance that Obama might win this year's election because he's the known quantity.  But "real" ghosts, ghouls, and goblins just don't spook me.  Add to it that I've seen WAY too many movies about demonic possession, and you got a 90 minute snooze fest with ONE scary moment, which actually involved (and I shit you not) a barking dog, not a demon.  

There are a host of problems technically here.  There's no sense of rising action.  It works like a Dubya press conference, jumping aimlessly from one "excitement point" to the next, and none of them actually make the message hit home.  The acting is, well, terrible, and then you get to deal with the fact that approximately two-thirds of the footage was intended to look like it was shot with a camcorder, and you have a package that just absolutely sucks.  There's one point where one of the characters eats a gun... and had I been in the room I probably would have yanked it out of his lifeless hands and followed suit.  At least that person didn't have to see the crappy ending.


While I'm hoping this is the worst movie I see in 2012, I suspect it won't be.  It also wasn't without its high points... like what happens to the Italian cops.  That was some funny shit.  Some of the body "horror" was realistic looking.  And then there was the guy sitting next to me.


Picture it.  A crowded theater that allows the people around you know that you've clearly spent the evening hotboxing somewhere.  You comment idiotically and incessantly on the nonsense spewing from both ends of the actors.  You admit loudly that you are scared.  Then comes the rub:  a man sits in a chair, the camera pans clockwise 180 degrees.  The cast gasps, the camera pans clockwise 180 more, to return to the chair, which is now empty.  You jump, making a loud choking noise and then say, and I quote "Wow!  How'd they do that?"  I die a little inside and wait for the inevitable reveal on where the guy went.


But seriously, that stoned dude is the only reason I'd give this any positive aspects.  Avoid at all costs.