The shrieking of string instruments, the bright red title card flashing like a light bulb about to burn out: It’s time for another Insidious film.
I often cite my favorite cinematic experience as seeing the first film back in 2010 – the theater was packed, and the screams were excited and often followed by the joyful cackling of laughter. The first Insidious film was a perfect PG-13 horror movie, a clever mash-up of creepy and playful that felt like a thrill ride. Once James Wan left the series after the second film, both Leigh Whannell and Adam Robitel sat in the director’s chair and tried to replicate his magic, to diminishing returns, so when it was announced that Patrick Wilson, star of the first two films, was returning to the franchise to direct his own installment, Insidious: The Red Door, you would have been correct to be wary.
What’s admirable about Wilson’s directorial debut is that he doesn’t try to ape Wan’s vision. It’s a refreshing change of pace for a franchise installment, but also a choice that is alienating to those who expect a rehash of the same old. You can see Wilson’s influences, from The Sixth Sense (a frat ghost caked in vomit is reminiscent of Mischa Barton’s jump scare in Shyamalan’s film) to Kiyoshi Kurosawa (ghosts slowly creeping their way toward the camera in the background are reminiscent of Pulse, Cure, and Retribution). It’s a bit like a reel for Wilson, a “look what I can do” showcase, which is what keeps the film from faltering. It’s intriguing that Wilson didn’t succumb to a copycat version of Insidious or Insidious: Chapter 2 with The Red Door, and unfortunately a jumbled, underdeveloped script thwarts him from the film reaching its full potential.
Scott Teems’ screenplay is a rough one, opening the door to a story that perhaps never needs to be unlocked. The fifth film focuses on the relationship between Josh Lambert (Wilson) and his eldest son, Dalton (Simpkins), both of whom have been previously established as astral projectors. The Red Door tries to pick up the pieces of the delayed aftermath of a traumatic childhood event, which sort of works until it falls apart in the film’s third act, where the rulebook to the Further (the ghostly dimension that hosts both demons and the dead) is tossed out the window. Josh and Dalton have to work together to once again defeat the Lipstick-Face Demon, but the methodical pacing of the first two acts is cast aside to speed up to an anticlimactic finale with diminishing returns. “We need to remember, even the things that hurt,” is recited, a looming quote that bangs you over the head to sum up the themes of repression that run rampant in The Red Door.
Every bone in my body roots for the Insidious films, because the theatrical experience they have ignited in the past is a rush. Similar to Wan’s The Conjuring universe, Insidious has long overstayed its welcome, reaching the point where its spark has quelled and there’s nothing interesting buried within these characters anymore. We have reached the end of the Further.
This article appears in July 14 • 2023.