Lights Out [Review by SpecialK]

You know how there’s a short list of famous people who would totally melt your mind if you met them in real life? You know what I mean—if you found yourself sharing an elevator with one of them, your brain would flood with so many thoughts that you would either be unable to get a single word out before the bell dings, or you would spout something like, “You smell like a pine forest.”  Well James Wan, one of my favorite horror film creators, was on that list for me. I use the past tense there because after seeing Lights Out, I now know exactly what I’d say.

I’d turn to him in that small space and calmly ask, “Mr. Wan—you had all the pieces at your fingertips, how could you have let that happen to Lights Out?”  Then I’d shake my head slowly, step out of the elevator, and as the doors close between us I’d tell him, “I’m only hard on you because I know you can do better.”  That’s of course when he’d catch the door, demand to know my thoughts on the film, and beg me to come work with him on his next project.

To be fair, Wan produced Lights Out, but did not direct it. In fact, Director David Sandberg is a newbie who created the spine-chilling short of the same name with his wife, Lotta Losten (who also appears in both films). I can’t pile enough praise onto that short film. I actually gasped at the end of the clip, and I beg all you creepy cinephiles to check it out.

However, a fearsome two and a half minutes does not a feature-length film make, and I blame the terror artist extraordinaire more than the new guy on the block for my disappointment.  Wan knows better.

Let’s illuminate the plot of Lights Out.  The death of her husband throws Sophie (Maria Bello) down a dark hole of manic depression.  Her young son Martin notices his mom is off her meds when she starts talking to a friend—Diana—who stays shrouded in the shadows. When his mom’s chatter keeps him awake at night, Martin’s school notices something is up, and phones his older half-sister Rebecca (the mesmerizing Teresa Palmer, not gonna lie, #girlcrush).  Rebecca remembers all too well what her manic mom was like, since Sophie’s last breakdown drove Rebecca herself out of the house. Rebecca then lugs her boyfriend along and the two come to her brother’s aid.

But it becomes clear early on that this isn’t just a family drama gilded with strong social commentary on mental health.  That’s because Diana is real.  And not even real in the way most ghosty villains are real—Diana attacks.  She claws at calves, angles for ankles, smacks, strangles, and sticks a few mean wrestling moves (I’m pretty sure Diana could pull a backbreaker on the Rock).  But here’s the catch—she can only do harm in the shadows.

I’ve explained before that my main metrics for menacing movies revolve around whether they actually scare you.  There, I must admit, Lights Out does deliver.  It draws well from that primal fear we share with our ancestors: that terror of what lies in wait beyond the reach of the light. This film does a great job exploiting the unknown, making you second-guess that dark corner at the edge of the shot, and reminding you of the reason you hustled up the basement steps as a kid.  Pile onto that some lightly lamp-lit rooms, potent power outages, flickering flashlights, and a spirit that can actually hurt you, and you have a pretty good recipe for some truly troubling scenes.

Sandberg also doesn’t hesitate to go dark (pun intended). There may be few things more disturbing than a mother flipping off the lights over the pleas of her terrified child, or watching someone helplessly descend into madness. He also mixes in some welcome, tension-relieving humor that the whole theater eagerly applauds.

But the film meanders poorly through a back story about how Sophie and Diana met when they were locked away in a mental institution as kids.  You kind of hear what happened to Diana, kind of learn about what she is, and kind of figure out how to fight her off, but every time you come up with one conclusion, the rest fade back to black. As a true horror buff, I try to refrain from nit picking about the ittiest bits of plot failings, but even I am irked by the confusing inconsistencies in Light Out.

Let’s take a riddle break to illustrate my point.  (Before I go on, spoiler alert, I am about to go into some more detail about the film than usual).  What can physically attack you, but cannot get shot; blisters and burns under the beam of a flashlight, but vanishes under neon bulbs; is visible under black light but disappears if you flick on a lamp; and can knock out the electricity fueling a whole city block, but somehow can’t snuff out a candle flame?  Nothing, of course.  Absolutely nothing.  But Sandberg seems to suggest that the answer is Diana.  Here’s a better riddle—why on earth did the filmmakers think this random chimera of characteristics would result in an ultimately satisfying villain? Your guess is as good as mine.

It feels like Sandberg took his excellent short film, workshopped a dozen different potential back stories, couldn’t pick just one, and decided instead to include them all.  And truthfully?  That’s where I blame Wan.  He saw something in Sandberg that reminded him of himself, and he wanted to give the talented filmmaker his shot, which is all well and good, but it is also Wan’s duty to rein him in.  When a film waves around Wan’s name as heavily as Lights Out does pre-release, the product had better deliver.

SpecialK Verdict: Probably one of the scariest films of the year, but also perhaps one of the most disappointing.  Are you listening, James Wan?  Please don’t pull a stunt like this again.

Lights Out opens Friday, July 22. 

Never miss a review — sign up for email updates to the right, or like The Parsing Haus on Facebook!