The bumps in the night are stale and poor in 'Ouija'

Douglas Smith, Ana Coto, Olivia Cooke, Daren Kagasoff and Bianca Santos are pictured in a scene from "Ouija." © 2014 Universal Studios. All Rights Reserved.

I never used a Ouija board as a kid, but I gather the thrill of the experience corresponds with the fun gleaned from reciting “Bloody Mary” in front of a mirror three times. It's the fear struck from anticipation from what could happen, from the simple potential that there is something beyond the ethereal plane a person can summon with little thought put behind it.

“Ouija” — the movie based off the board game by Hasbro — kind of, sort of, tries to follow the concept of fear through anticipation, but it lacks two key ingredients to turn the concept into reality: any idea of how to create and sustain tension and anything worth being afraid of in the first place. “Ouija” is a horror film without the horror, which is a moderately nice way of calling it an idiotic muck of accidental comedy.

“Ouija” features a collection of 20-something actors with minor resumes (default lead Olivia Cooke stars in the much more interesting “The Signal” that came out this summer) paid to look and act like high school students before dying a terrible, terrible death. Spirits are involved somehow, and the eponymous preteen slumber party staple is used as a means of communicating with those dead spirits. Respected mediums Haley Joel Osment, Jennifer Love Hewitt and Patricia Arquette apparently were unavailable to moderate peacefully the discussions between the dead and the dull living. Also, many a shenanigan involving ghosts, games, geriatrics and gas lighters ensue to pad out the runtime.

“Ouija” is a terrible film on so, so many levels for so, so many reasons. Horror, though, is one of the more flexible genres, so usual deal breakers like bad acting, dialogue and even special effects – all on display here – can be glossed over with a solid atmosphere and a couple of decent jump scares to provide at least one frightening viewing.  

Even "The Woman in Black" had one decent scare in it.

That could have been the case had the filmmakers — writer/director Stiles White and co-writer Juliet Snowden — been able to, you know, throw in a few horrors every then and now to give contrast to the hilarious awful. What the filmmaker don’t possess (aside from way to break through the horror death knell that is the “PG-13” rating) is a talent for cultivating good horror. It seeps out during every moment of murderous climax, which they sell short by explaining the impending moments of doom and fear to the audience first. Take a scene in which a shadow just appears behind a character; instead of having the shadow jump at the poor schmuck that occurs anyway, White lingers on the image for several beats too long and allows another character to point out that it's right behind him before the attack begins. 

Also, perhaps setting a large amount of action to happen in the daytime in lieu of the evening or night would do a better job of establishing mood, as would a more discomfiting opening death and a plot that doesn't hinge entirely on people behaving like idiots. Those moments coincide with the multitude of plot holes that rise and flow like the waves on a beach of stupidity. 

In the deepest, deepest nether regions of “Ouija's” existence is a kernel of an idea of a notion for a theoretically pretty OK short horror film, one of those seven-minute, low-budget Youtube specialties that result in a nod of appreciation for the filmmakers behind it. That's still nowhere near enough to justify a feature-length film, especially one that fails on so many levels to evoke fright as this calamitous contraption of crap as “Ouija” does.

At least “Ouija” fails spectacularly, albeit not in a manner indicative of unreached grandiose aspirations and dreams. Rather, “Ouija's” failure is rooted in incompetence from just about everyone involved and it results in a pretty comical viewing experience with the right audience, like say a theater full of screaming high school girls. 

“Ouija” won't make you reconsider your thoughts on the afterlife or motivate you to keep a light on at bedtime, but it can offer a good time under the right conditions, at least as long as one doesn't pay $10 a head to see it.

Or you could stay home and watch the pros do it.

Review: One and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG-13

Run time: 89 minutes

Genre: Horror

Ask Away

Target audience: Horror fans searching desperately for something to watch this Halloween season that doesn’t involve Dracula.

Take the whole family?: The PG-13 rating fits pretty well, as kids a bit younger than that might feel a bit perturbed by the loud noises.

Theater or Netflix?: Netflix so you can watch it with a group of friends, some mediocre liquor and an onslaught of jokes at its expense.

Do you believe in the power of the Ouija board? In a word, no. One of the film's funniest subplots though is the repeated undercutting of any critiques against it. The characters state repeatedly in the first half that they don’t believe the thing works. It doesn't take them too long to go all in on the device's power. Even the Youtube video of the man explaining away the Ouija effect is done poorly and, possibly, in a way that’s intentionally funny.

Watch this instead?: “The Shining” and Nightmare on Elm Street” circa 1984 are wicked effective supernatural thrillers, and either the Japanese or American versions of “The Ring” are much scarier than “Ouija.” For a truly memorable experience, though, seek out 1977's “House,” an impossible film to define or forget.

Just try and forget this image.

Taking pride in one's self

Faye Marsay as Steph, George Mackay as Joe, Joseph Gilgun as Mike, Paddy Considine as Dai and Ben Schnetzer as Mark in the film "Pride." [Nicola Dove/CBS Films]

It’s sometimes difficult to remove political or philosophical underpinnings from an artistic review. The goal is to judge a film or book or album or TV show on either artistic or intellectual criteria, but all evaluations are biased by their nature, and keeping the non-critical viewpoints from seeping into the process is a tremendous difficulty.

It’s why I spent an extra half hour driving home from the theater after watching “Pride” to consider whether I liked the film for the merits of its filmmaking or because I agree with its premise and viewpoint wholeheartedly. What came about from a sojourn through Scottsdale and Phoenix was an acknowledgement of the film’s demerits, most notably an unwillingness to venture outside the comfort’s of is genre, but a full understanding that yes, “Pride” is a wonderful film regardless of my view of its stance.

“Pride” takes viewers back to London in the summer of ’84, where 20-something Mark (Ben Schnetzer) is gathering a few of his friends (Joseph Gilgun and Faye Marsay included) to march in the city’s annual gay rights parade, where they encounter the youthfully awkward Joe (George MacKay). The march’s success inspires Schnetzer to expand his activism to incorporate a cause not directly related to gay rights; the ongoing National Union of Mineworkers’ strike.

He forms a group with his friends, dubbed Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners, to try and raise money to help the strikers during hard times. Although the union affiliates reject their aid, the LGSM members get in touch with representatives from the town of Onllywn in Wales, which is hit hard by the labor strife. The arrangement is awkward at first, with the residents of the mining town (consisting of a crew of British character actors like Bill Nighy, Imelda Staunton and Paddy Considine) initially hesitant to accept support from the gay activists; the activists themselves are concerned about a less than stellar reception from the town’s citizens. That all changes once the two sides get to know each other thanks largely to the impeccable dance moves of LGSM member Jonathan (Dominic West), and they begin to work together for a common goal of ending the miner strike. While not everything is peachy keen, the miners and gay activists use the opportunity to learn more about the people on the other side of the societal divide and how minimal the differences truly are among them all.

“Pride” is one of those films that can trumpet some variation of the “based on true events” tagline justifiably; the strike occurred in the United Kingdom for more than a year, and 11 different LGSM groups from the U.K. did support several mining communities during the strike. The downside to that “based on true events” statement is the film invariably follows a simple and rather dull storyline. There’s the everyone meeting up scene, the awkward moment when the two groups meet for the first time, and the necessary down beats that becomes uplifting in the end. It’s a formula that has proven successful frequently, but the filmmakers’ strict adherence to the conventions makes the film a little flatter than it ought to be and causes a bit of drag on the back nine.

While it does get a bit frustrating to watch films bend themselves to fit certain criteria, director Matthew Warchus and screenwriter Stephen Beresford at least hit the notes right and at an emotionally satisfying level, especially for a film soaked in social justice. “Pride” is designed to slap people about with the message that people are, well, just people, that humanity does have at least a modicum of universality to it. I use the word “slap” as more of a descriptor for some of the heavy handed symbolic gestures (a bridge pops up on screen quite frequently) than for the forcefulness of its delivery system. Unlike its thematic sibling “Milk,” “Pride” is more focused on having fun than offering important lessons about diversity and equality. The film is coated in that sensible British humor, meaning jokes that are droll, dry and delivered in a very wry fashion by an excellent cast (Nighy, Staunton, West and Jessica Gunning are highlights) who bring lightness to a ponderous topic.

 

Which is Bill Nighy's raison d'etre.

 Having the softer touch also strips away any sense of self importance or inflation from “Pride’s” attitude. The filmmakers could have made the British version of “Milk” and created a rather good film that is weighed down my its didactic tone and undercurrent of martyrdom for its central character. Instead, they decided to avoid a lecture and just let the kids play and educate through fun and games, which kind of makes it “Adventure Time” for gay-rights activism.
 

And I have a feeling Finn and Jake would be OK with that.

Review: Four out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 120 minutes (Two hours)

Genre: Historical drama

Ask Away

Target audience: Older audiences who might remember the strike or people interested in a chapter in gay rights history.

Take the whole family?:  I’m really not sure how this film justified an “R” rating, so bring early teens along if they’re mature enough to handle the shenanigans of a few smutty old women. The MPAA is just the worst..

Theater or Netflix?: Good for a theater trip if you’re willing to venture out to an indie cinema.

How can you tell this is 1984? The fashion and the music mostly. I’m using the question as a means of expressing adoration for the styles of the era and offer music supervisor Nick Angel props for a killer soundtrack. It’s hard to go wrong with a soundtrack that combines The Smiths, Culture Club and Bronski Beat.

Even Kim Wilde gets her name dropped.

Watch this as well?: “How to Survive a Plague” is a necessity for anyone interested in learning more about the AIDS epidemic from the ’80s, and “The Times of Harvey Milk” is a terrific documentary about the titular gay rights figure. “Milk” is a fine film, but the unvarnished version is much more interesting.