It Lives Inside includes many of these tropes and fans of the curse movies noted above will find much to enjoy. Furthermore, Dutta, who co-wrote the script with Ashish Mehta, innovates with the central character’s background. While curse films do come from Japan and Korea, there is a long tradition of white women encountering these horrors, from Naomi Watts to Alison Lohman to Sosie Bacon, sisters of the Final Girl protagonists of many a slasher, from Laurie Strode to Laurie Strode’s granddaughter. It Lives Inside focuses upon Samidha (Megan Suri, “Missing”), the daughter of Indian immigrants to the US, Poorna (Neeru Bajwa, “Criminal”) and Inesh (Vik Sahay, “Captain Marvel”). An Indian protagonist is something different, not simply because of skin color but because Indian folklore is less familiar to western audiences, and the immigrant experience allows for other tensions.

The history of Samidha’s family is expressed efficiently without being heavy-handed. Poorna largely speaks Hindi and expects Samidha to attend traditional events, while her daughter speaks English with no Indian accent, and prefers to go by the name Sam, hang out with (American) friends and spend time with boys, especially Russ (Gage Marsh, “Riceboy Sleeps”). This context also highlights a tension between tradition and modernity, as different generations do not understand each other. The familiar trope of the teenager distanced from her parents is therefore refreshed by this cultural background, and as Sam grows increasingly frantic over something strange happening, her inability to discuss the matter with her parents is a logical extension of that. Sam’s relationships with her school peers also draws attention to the universal experience of feeling different and out of place, but with the added weight of being from an immigrant family and designated as “Other.” This might sound like too specific an experience for general audiences to engage with, but as described by the great film critic Roger Ebert, cinema is a machine for generating empathy. It Lives Inside highlights the feeling of being looked upon as “Other,” in such a way that any audience can get a flavor for this feeling, much like another very different film of 2023, “Joy Ride.”

In case this sounds like a social drama along the lines of “Blinded By The Light,” “Moonlight” or “The Florida Project,” it is important to note that It Lives Inside is also bloody scary. Sam’s former best friend Tamira (Mohana Krishnan) approaches her one day at school with a strange story that Sam dismisses, only to disappear in mysterious circumstances. Sam then starts feeling a presence and spotting an ephemeral figure. This malevolent shadow that appears in closets and mirrors has the right level of uncanniness, humanoid and yet identifiably wrong. Dutta paces the film carefully, drawing the viewer into Sam’s experience as she steadily becomes more fraught and frightened. Uncertainty over possible madness gives way to set pieces with vicious attacks, featuring precise gore which is all the more compelling. Seeing a person literally ripped in two can be more comical than creepy, but the sight of small wounds appearing in a forearm with no visual cause allows the viewer to focus on this injury and wince accordingly, as well as being placed in the character’s frightening position of not knowing what is happening. These sequences ratchet up the suspense and culminate in visceral jump scares, that may lead to gasps and even screams.

As is sometimes the case with these things, once ambiguity gives way to certainty the film becomes less scary, as the explanation into what is happening is a little pat and provides a solution that you can probably see coming. Some possibly overdone flashback editing in the climactic scene signposts the direction. The coda, while effective, has been done better elsewhere. That said, throughout the film the stakes remain high and the central conceit of having to balance the demands of family and tradition with being a contemporary teenager are played out effectively, as the route taken by Sam is interesting as well as arresting. Overall, It Lives Inside offers an effective take on an established formula, encapsulating various social and familial tensions along with some serious terror.

Dad Greg (Matthew MacCaull, “Tomorrowland”) and his young daughter Samantha (Taylor Dianne Robinson, “Last Night in Suburbia”) are camping and bonding, bonding and camping when the attack comes. When Greg awakes, he’s in a bed surrounded by mosquito nets and two comely lasses — and no daughter. He’s in The Circle, they tell him! The Circle! Blessings, tidings, etc., etc. Don’t worry, they say, your daughter is in class! (How long was this fella out?) And Greg should meet Matthew! Blessings!

Well, Greg does indeed meet Matthew (Michael Rogers, “The ABCs of Death”), who naturally extols the value of being in The Circle and how awesome The Circle is as long as you’re a believer, and if you think I wouldn’t be eyeing that door like mad at this point, you’d be way wrong. Greg is indeed unsettled by the off-kilter way the denizens of The Circle are, but he’s still really banged up and can’t do much but shamble hither and yon, mostly hither.

His daughter Sam, it turns out, loves it at The Circle. Doesn’t want to leave, no matter how unsettling Greg finds it all to be. Never mind that there aren’t really any other kids there — although there are a lot of realistic-looking mannequins. And there’s this one guy who goes fishing the first morning that Greg and Sam are at The Circle, and Matthew tags along, and that’s the last we see of that guy.

While Greg and Sam are experiencing the wonder that is The Circle, a man and a woman plots to infiltrate The Circle and rescue one of the cultists, Rebekah (Cindy Busby, “The Big Year”), sister to one and wife to the other. They’ve hired a man named Grady (Ben Cotton, “The Day the Earth Stood Still”), which rhymes with Shady, which is the vibe Grady gives off — but he sure seems to know a heck of a lot about The Circle, and I’m sure you can guess why. Grady packs a tranquilizer handgun — just in case Rebekah doesn’t come willingly — and the lone wolf/reluctant hero is off to rescue the princess, or something.

For the first half (at least) of Welcome to the Circle, the movie feels like a run-of-the-mill cult movie. Well, more specifically, a movie about cults. That is, you meet the inhabitants, you can tell there’s something kind of amiss, it takes time for the Hero to figure that out, and then the Hero escapes, or tries to. And all of that happens here, but it turns out there’s a hell of a lot more than meets the eye to The Circle. What if you ran into a cult that wasn’t founded on mistaken beliefs? What if the underlying “superpower” that the cult was in thrall to was actually supernatural? What if these aren’t just some deranged, blissfully naive granola munchers . . . what if, instead, they’re certifiably dangerous because the power in which they believe is authentic and malevolent?

That’s where Welcome to the Circle (somewhat) redeems itself. Reality becomes distorted, not just for the characters but for us. The latter makes things a little tough to follow, but there’s just enough organic exposition along the way to prevent us from getting too disoriented. The movie reminded me a little of “The Endless,” which likewise centered around a cult that turned out to be on to something and not just on something. If nothing else, this film takes pains to explain the difference between “real-fake” and “fake-fake” — with the latter being something meant to look fake, like those creepy mannequins, but is actually real. Oh, snap — are those mannequins real? Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. Maybe it’s all a big fake out. But as one character puts it, if you’re told over and over for years on end that X is true, you’re gonna believe X is true even if your eyes tell you different.

The movie is filled with philosophical claptrap that, even under the best conditions, would make one’s mind spin out of control — tautological control, anyway. The Circle is The Circle, the meaning is the meaning of the meaning. You know, first-grade stuff. This rhetoric produces a film that’s a lot less grounded than it needs to be, bedeviling the viewer into wondering if it all means something or is simply, to borrow from the movie itself, a bunch of smoke and mirrors. Even the bloody violence — and there’s plenty of it! — doesn’t really bring things down to earth.

Welcome to the Circle is marred by some clunky storytelling, predominantly in the first half, when it presents itself as unimaginative. But then it takes off into a world of creativity. Another gripe, one that lasts throughout the movie — the sound mixing was pretty bad. Background sound and score should be, you know, in the background, and yet in most scenes it was mixed so loudly that you can barely hear what the characters are saying. Since they were typically giving the viewers some exposition, this was quite the debit. As for the acting, I’ll single out Robinson (as Samantha) and Jordana Largy (“Rememory”) who plays a Circlist Tina, both of whom give superb, multilayered performances. As for the rest, there’s a lot of nothingness.

While the scribe-turned-helmer dives a bit deeper into the Warren lore (more specifically the couple’s evil artifacts room) and “conjures” up some ghastly spirits and memorable, demonic profiles, the “Annabelle” series (and much of the “Conjuring” Universe) still depends on jump scares and anemic scripts.

The source material is strong — in the Warrens’ chilling oeuvre — but it still get largely lost in translation. Despite strong performances from Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson in the anchor films, the potency feels quite diluted by the time it gets to the “Annabelle” spinoffs. Nonetheless, the “Conjuring” Universe remains a (profitable) Hollywood mainstay, and Dauberman’s scares still pack a hearty punch.

Taken at face value — and there are plenty of interesting profiles in the depths of the Warrens’ case files — Annabelle Comes Home is a worthy genre film, propped up by strong performances from the very-Warren-esque Mckenna Grace (“I, Tonya”) and Katie Sarife (“Twisted Sisters”) — one a young loner bullied about her parents’ work, the other a social but troubled teenager. Note, the titular doll still feels like a weak supporting character, outshined by the hellish, creative spirits under lock and key in the artifacts room.

Annabelle Comes Home is set after “The Conjuring” (you’ll notice a Warren Easter egg on the Rhode Island affair) and before “The Curse of La Llorana” and “The Conjuring 2.” This means viewers are dropped right into the middle of a peak investigatory era for the Warrens. When Ed and Lorraine are taken out of town for a case, Judy Warren (Grace) is left to the care of well-mannered babysitter, Mary Ellen (Madison Iseman, “Goosebumps 2: Haunted Halloween”).

What appears to be a uneventful night of TV and baking takes a turn for the worse when Mary Ellen’s outgoing friend, Daniela (Sarife), drops by to get an inside look at the Warrens’ suburban bi-level — supposedly a spiritual stronghold. While Judy wants no part in tempting fate, Daniela has a secret mission after suffering a tragic family loss. When she sneaks into the artifacts room and lets Annabelle squeeze through the unlocked chapel-glass case, the doll does not disappoint — summoning all spirits entombed in the room in an effort to harness a soul. It’s Judy, Mary Ellen and Daniela versus the underworld in the Warrens’ home — will they survive the night?

Dauberman’s efforts here certainly place this far above “Annabelle: Creation” and the first entry into the series — with well-rounded scares and a presence from the entire demonic spectrum. (One horned, satanic spirit will certainly spur goosebumps.) It’s a tall order for two teens and a ‘tween to outlast the clever mischief of this doll, but the helmer uses a number of techniques to make the most of it. This includes mostly admirable effects to bring his ghouls to life, plus strong camerawork that exemplifies contrast — in lighting, character, setting, etc.

For sure, the film’s third act depends on by-the-book jump scares and a calculable script, but Dauberman speeds up the action, cutting between three chilling scenes that all amount to Annabelle’s unquenchable taste for blood — or rather the souls of incident teenagers.

Any fan of the “Conjuring” universe, the brainchild of horror auteur James Wan, should give Annabelle Comes Home a watch, and perhaps they’ll be left anxious for the next installment. Dauberman’s script offers plenty of food for thought — as is the “Conjuring” way. (Remember, Annabelle was a brief cutaway scene in the first film; “The Nun” inspired by events of the second . . . and so on).

Called to the scene, rookie investigative psychologist Kate Fuller (Olga Kurylenko, “Momentum”) is shown Matthew Wynsfield’s body by Detective McCarthy (Lance E. Nichols, “Believe”) because she “needs to understand the reality of what we’re dealing with” before she evaluates suspect Helena Wynsfield’s (Rosie Fellner, “Patient 001”) state of mind. Helena, however, isn’t talking, clearly shaken by last night’s events, so Kate seeks out young Sophie who won’t come out from her hiding spot under the bed. Sophie reluctantly tells Kate she heard the attack, and when asked “Who hurt Daddy?” she whispers in reply a single name: “Mara.”

Later, in the interrogation room, Helena describes Matthew’s struggles with sleep paralysis — he often woke up in the night, unable to move, feeling pressed into the mattress as if something evil was in the room with him. Matthew’s struggles eased a bit when he joined a support group, even though he still reported seeing a sleep demon during his episodes. Kate visits the support group in search of answers and a man named Dougie (Craig Conway, “Doomsday”), whom Helena and Matthew knew. She listens intently to the group’s stories, and is shocked to hear their similarities to Sophie’s and Helena’s claims — that a haggard old woman called Mara marks her victims and stalks them in the night. Once you start seeing her in your waking hours, your time has come, and the next time you sleep, she will kill you.

Dougie chastises the group, trying to get them to accept the truth — Mara is no hallucination, and she is after them all. As her investigation continues, Kate wrestles with Detective McCarthy’s refusal to believe the stories and his conviction that Helena is clearly the murderer. She takes Dougie’s story seriously, and digs deeper into the emerging pattern of recent deaths in the area. She also contends with troubled sleep, feeling pushed into her own mattress at night, and seeing what appears to be an old, crooked-jointed woman lurking in the shadows . . .

Directed by Clive Tonge and written by Jonathan Frank, Mara is a blend of basic paranormal horror tropes we’ve come to know all too well with unexplained bumps in the night, people tormented by visions of contorted shadow demons, and hunted and assaulted in their sleep by unknown supernatural forces. However, Frank’s legend of an ancient entity is a story better suited for a one-hour anthology episode than a feature film, as the story plods along desperately trying to fill its 98-minute run-time with drawn out, repetitive and disappointingly predictable scenes. It’s a shame too, because Olga carriers herself well, although the investigation her Kate conducts is too on-the-nose and her arguments with Nichols (who also carriers himself well enough) take the viewer out of the film more often than not.

It’s also a unfortunate as I’m a fan of horror thrillers and most things supernatural. It’s clear what Tonge and team were aiming for, but unfortunately, Mara isn’t nearly effective enough to push aside more recent films like “Mama,” “Lights Out,” or “Darkness Falls,” and it’s definitely not enough to overshadow the granddaddy of them all, “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” which is even given a well-deserved nod by the sleep specialist, Dr. Ellis (Mitch Eakins,“1968 Tunnel Rats”).

A movie like this needs to get under your skin to be memorable, yet without an authentically frightening entity or a compelling mystery begging to be solved, Mara comes up as anything but.

Valak first appeared as a demonic presence in James Wan’s “The Conjuring 2,” a horror film met with critical praise and box office success. Valak’s role in that sequel, in an urban English setting, fits neatly into the episodic villainy of “The Conjuring” world. In fact, Wan is dealt an embarrassment of riches in the parent films, so much so that hair-raisers such as Annabelle and other relics are confined to the back room at the home of paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga, respectively). Valak’s hissing antics in The Nun, however, actually somewhat devalue its presence in “The Conjuring.”

What the two original films excel at are characterization and narrative, as Wan painstakingly takes viewers into Lorraine’s dangerous subconscious, which is brimming with conflict (and through her uniquely stable marriage with Ed as they split time between housework and the paranormal). They also must exorcise complex characters — family members and innocent children alike. Conversely, The Nun is a slow-moving, 96-minute film that drags out laborious scenes, fails to capture the audience and injects jump-scares where the plot often lacks.

Set in 1952, the film begins with the mysterious suicide of a resident of the dreary Romanian convent, Cârta Monastery. An evil presence lurks there, and the Vatican wants to know what it is. They send investigator, “miracle hunter” and former World War II chaplain, Father Burke (Bichir), to the unkempt grounds of the former castle. He’s to be joined by a novitiate (a nun who hasn’t taken her vows), Sister Irene (Farmiga). They’re joined by the farmer who discovered the deceased nun, Maurice “Frenchie” Theriault (Jonas Bloquet, “Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets”), who brings some levity to the hellish story. What they find inside the walls of the convent is a forsaken holy ground that’s become the playground of distrustful nuns and the shapeshifting apparition in the dungeon, which needs a human vessel to be free of its brick and mortar shackles.

Will Father Burke and Sister Irene be able to navigate the castle corridors and catacombs, to get the jump on the evil Valak? Or will Irene’s troublesome past be a weakness the demon can thrive on?

Hardy’s project is seriously devoid of plot, and it doesn’t seem to mind. While the movie’s opening act suggests real potential — between frame-filling tracking shots of the medieval convent and the intrigue of a religious mystery — it quickly succumbs to its fate of trite storytelling, cheap scares and wholly predictable outcomes. Genre tropes suffuse every square inch of Hardy’s film, which is nonetheless captured nicely by cinematographer Maxime Alexandre (“Earth to Echo”).

There is, of course, a certain archetype to today’s horror film — the innocent, young protagonist finds some unfortunate luck, but somehow manages to emerge unscathed, thanks to the muscle of a potential love interest and the wisdom of a more venerable supporting character. We’ve seen it all before. With a promising concept, what could The Nun have done differently? For one, it should have utilized its eerie, Gothic setting further, to build a narrative around religious fanaticism or the dark side of a severely cloistered lifestyle. Instead, the castle-turned-convent is criminally underused and simply a lifeless set piece that’s home to a type of “portal” in the vein of “Pacific Rim,” which screams B-movie.

The film also hardly uses Farmiga’s talents. Her outward fear, yet silent composure, as Sister Irene is commendable, but there is nothing to truly suggest her past has thrust her into a sinister Vatican investigation in Romania. In fact, the whole operation, including Father Burke’s role and casework, go unexplained.

What’s more, The Nun could have done more to flesh out Valak’s motivation, and its propensity for a nun’s habit. Altogether, Hardy’s efforts fall short, and his film rivals its spin-off predecessor, “Annabelle,” as a surface-level scream-fest without the chops of something like Ari Aster’s “Hereditary” or Robert Eggers’ “The Witch.”

Nonetheless, it almost demands viewing just for the connection to the wider horror “universe.” But for those entering the theater expecting a “Conjuring”-level output — of careful plotting and true world-building — there is sure to be disappointment. That’s because boredom lingers greater than the demon’s many sins. Let’s hope the franchise’s spin-offs end after the raggedy doll and the hissing abbess.

The heroes within all of those films were a group of ghost hunting demonologists led by psychic Elise Rainier (Lin Shaye, “Ouija”) and accompanied by tech specialists Specs (Whannell, “The Bye Bye Man”) and Tucker (Angus Sampson, “Mad Max: Fury Road”) who managed to bring the right spirits back and send the evil spirits away from the Lambert family on more than one occasion.

Unlike the first three films, however, this latest installment, Insidious: The Last Key is almost entirely devoted to this group as opposed to a family in distress. For the first time in the series we’re given the background for Elise’s character who we find suffered abuse from her father (Josh Stewart, “Transcendence”) as a child because of her ability to see and speak to spirits. This initial part of the film arguably offers the most substance of any sequence within the series. It clearly outlines the true protagonist of these films and offers an intimate backstory that is well crafted and presented by director Adam Robitel (“The Taking of Deborah Logan”).

The plot follows Elise and her team after they’re contacted by a man (Kirk Acevedo, “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes”) living in the home that Elise grew up in. The group goes to the home and begins to investigate, which leads to the discovery of an evil entity that has had a hold on not only Elise and her family (bother Christian and nieces Imogen and Melissa make a late appearance), but everyone who’s lived in the home. This results in some heightened anxiety that leads to jump scares and some heightened anxiety that doesn’t, and a lot of frightened and exasperated looks from everyone, anxious or not.

Outside of Shaye’s deepening portrayal (which she can now do impressively with her eyes closed), Insidious: The Last Key doesn’t offer much that the previous films hadn’t already given us, and yet it still manages to be a captivating installment for a franchise that most would not have predicted would have lasted this long. I attribute this to not only Lin Shaye but also to Whannell’s writing which stays on pace with that of the previous installments (with the exception of the increasing comedic blips that mostly fall flat) and the ever-foreboding atmosphere this time dressed up by the cinematography of Toby Oliver (“Get Out”).

Enthusiasts of the series and Blumhouse Productions in general have been given a decent entry to a franchise that has mostly run it’s course. And while one could argue that Insidious: The Last Key fails to offer anything new or exciting to the genre, the movie offers fans of the franchise exactly what they were looking for and that’s — for better or worse — more of the same.