Winnipeg Free Press

Winnipeg Free Press (Newspaper) - September 5, 2025, Winnipeg, Manitoba WINNIPEGFREEPRESS.COM ● C3 T HERE are four words in the title of the latest entry in the Conjur- ing universe, but only one sounds good. It’s the word “last.” The Conjuring: Last Rites seems to finally nail the coffin shut on this part of the franchise, saying goodbye to a series that revels in timeless scary stuff — swing sets that mysteriously move, creaky floors, battery toys that suddenly turn on and doorknobs that rattle. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, guys. Vera Farmiga and Patrick Wilson reunite to play renowned, real-life paranormal investigators Ed and Lor- raine Warren, facing an “evil unlike anything they’ve ever encountered.” That evil? It lives in the Pennsylva- nia suburbs of 1986, of course. Last Rites — part of a universe that includes The Nun and Annabelle franchises — is a decent enough final cinematic prayer for this franchise, combining the personal story of the Warrens and their daughter, Judy, with a new paranormal possession that’s created a freaked-out family. It culmi- nates in hope, love and a wedding. But first, demons and projectile vomiting. Returning screenwriter David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick — aided by The Nun II scribes Ian Goldberg and Richard Naing — have crafted, with returning director Michael Chaves, the franchise’s signature alchemy: sac- charine family hugging and laughter combined with ankle-level blood pools. The evil thing this time is a full- length wooden-framed mirror with carvings of three children. It’s given as a gift to a girl’s confirmation — a mirror, really? — and soon makes fam- ily members levitate, yanks telephone cords (the movie’s younger viewers might laugh at a time when phones had cords) and turns dolls creepy. The time period gives the filmmak- ers great songs — Howard Jones’ Things Can Only Get Better, David Bowie’s Let’s Dance and The Cult’s She Sells Sanctuary — as well as a mention or two of the film Ghost- busters, used to mock the Warrens. There are also big shoulder pads, clip- on ties and huge, round glasses. We start in 1964, where the young newlywed Warrens are investigating their first case — that possessed darn mirror again — but excuse themselves when a pregnant Lorraine Warren’s water breaks and Judy is born. Fast-forward to the 1980s and the couple have sworn off investigating any more paranormal activities on account of Ed’s iffy heart. Plus, Judy, (Mia Tomlinson) who seems to have inherited her parents’ ability to sense evil, has a boyfriend. “Our family is not like other fami- lies,” dad warns her potential suitor. This gives the moviemakers a chance to make a wedding dress shop- ping experience a truly frightening ex- perience — if it wasn’t already — and a garbage disposal explodes in blood. The Conjuring has always taken pe- destrian things and tried to turn them creepy but maybe jumped the shark last time with a possessed water bed. The death of a recurring character connects the Warrens and the story of the poor Pennsylvania family with their horrible mirror. “It found us,” says dad, ominously. There’s too much reliance on thun- derstorms, quick cuts of grinning mon- sters, a slow buildup to the climactic final battle that drags in parts — how many delicate moving music boxes can we enjoy watching? — and Ed Warren should probably by now have commit- ted to memory the correct Catholic prayer passages to banish a demon (Ed, man, get off book). But you’d be a demon to not give Ed and Lorraine Warren their victory lap. At a time in horror when movies com- bine race commentary, explore politics or go full-out stabby-stabby, they were the ones who celebrated creaking floor- boards and ticking grandfather clocks. It’s time to go, but it’s also time to cheer this husband-and-wife team with the creepiest basement in the world. — The Associated Press FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 2025 Time to put the nail in the coffin of this franchise Pray it’s the last MARK KENNEDY MOVIE REVIEW THE CONJURING: LAST RITES Starring: Vera Farmiga, Patrick Wilson ● Polo Park, Grant Park, Kildonan Place, St. Vital, McGillivray ● 135 minutes, 14A ★★★ out five WARNER BROS. PICTURES Vera Farmiga (left) and Mia Tomlinson face evil head on (again) in the final Conjuring movie. OTHER VOICES Wilson and Farmiga remain solidity incarnate, capable of enlivening even speculative spiritual dialogue. The film-making pulls no surprises out of the hat, though and gives no indication that it would if it could. — Mike McCahill, Guardian The Conjuring: Last Rites feels crowded from the inside out: it’s as if an earnest domestic drama and a horror flick were thrashing around, trying to occupy the same running time. Neither one is able to cast the other out. — Adam Nayman, Toronto Star Farmiga and Wilson haven’t lost their appeal, and with their relaxed chemistry they make for engaging company. But it all feels old hat by now, with returning director Michael Chaves failing to bring much freshness or vitality to the proceedings. — Frank Scheck, The Hollywood Reporter Get together for near-perfect comedy about couples IN the opening scene of Michael An- gelo Covino’s 2019 friendship dramedy The Climb, Kyle Marvin’s character, Kyle, has his relationship implode during an arduous journey — on bicycles — when his best friend Mike (Covino) confesses that he slept with Kyle’s fiancée. Covino’s followup, the comedic marriage farce Splitsville, opens with Marvin’s character, Carey, seeing his relationship implode during another journey — by car — when his new wife Ashley (Adria Arjona) announces she wants a divorce. Both trips start out as joyous adven- tures before turning suddenly harrow- ing, emotionally and physically, but in Splitsville, the comedy is bigger and broader, the scope larger. It’s an appropriate heightening for the sophomore feature from the cre- ative team of Covino and Marvin, who co-wrote and co-star in both The Climb and Splitsville, with Covino directing. Splitsville cements the filmmak- ing duo as the heirs apparent to Paul Mazursky, the New Hollywood bard of marriage, divorce and everything in between. The story of two couples experimenting with extramarital sex- ual relationships to varying degrees of success, Splitsville is their version of Mazursky’s 1969 film Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice — a Carey & Ashley & Paul & Julie for the sexual politics of 2025, which are just as convoluted and perhaps not as evolved as the con- cerned parties would like to believe. When Ashley dumps Carey and he flees their vehicle on foot, he seeks so- lace with his best friend Paul (Covino) and Paul’s wife Julie (Dakota Johnson), and is floored to discover that they’ve opened their marriage. Paul and Julie “make the bad thing not bad,” as they smugly declare, and seem utterly at peace with it. Of course, things are never as easy as they seem, from Paul and Julie’s oh-so-modern approach to sex and marriage, to their luxe lifestyle of modernist beach homes and her van- ity ceramics hobby. Carey, a golden retriever of a man filled with trusting enthusiasm, bumbles right into trouble with their open relationship and finds himself just trying to keep up — with the dramatic roller coaster that Paul and Julie’s marriage reveals itself to be, and Ashley’s rotating roster of new, exciting boyfriends that Carey ends up taking under his wing. This all might seem exciting and fresh, but Carey just wants a tradition- al marriage: monogamy, commitment and kids. Is that too much to ask in this day and age? Covino’s filmmaking is tremendously appealing, buoyant and playful, and in Splitsville, he dials everything up from The Climb, especially the comedy. The Climb had a more melancholy tone about the ups and downs of a friendship set over the course of many years. Splitsville is a lot sillier, while still tackling serious marital issues. Covino deploys some of his favourite tricks, such as observing domestic chaos or bliss from the outside looking in (or reverse), and characters per- forming unexpected songs in order to win over a lover. He favours long takes, sharply punctuated with violence and humour, expertly lensed by cinematographer Adam Newport-Berra, who was also behind the camera for the dizzyingly long oners of Apple TV’s The Studio. Covino juxtaposes the action with retro musical cues that bop from classic rock to global funk, creating an infectiously charming world that you just want to live inside, despite the emotional turbulence. As actors, Covino and Marvin are also a study in contrasts. Covino is brooding and intense as the obsessive, jealous Paul, Marvin sunny and upbeat as Carey, catching every curveball tossed his way. Covino’s facility with his ensemble is to draw out their inherent screen qualities, from Marvin’s ebullience to Arjona’s energetic feistiness to John- son’s unflappable cool. Every actor works within a range that’s believable to them as perform- ers, even Covino’s hangdog shiftiness as Paul, and Covino, as director, doesn’t push them outside of their comfort zone. He puts it all to excellent use in scrambling who wants what and why and when, so that it’s never obvious how this all will shake out in the end. After all the hilarious, sad, sexy madness that Covino and Marvin unspool, any combination of where these lovers land would be a bit of a disappointment. You may throw a sidelong glance at who ends up with whom in the end, but nothing’s perfect after all, not even Splitsville, though it comes damn near close. — Tribune News Service KATIE WALSH MOVIE REVIEW SPLITSVILLE Starring: Dakota Johnson, Michael Angelo Covino, Kyle Marvin, Adria Arjona ● McGillivray ● 105 minutes, 14A ★★★★½ out of five NEON / TNS From left: Michael Angelo Covino, Kyle Marvin, Adria Arjona and Dakota Johnson OTHER VOICES A sense of limitation — even more anx- iety provoking in the age of dating apps, when prospects can seem plentiful — is the bogeyman of Splitsville. But the movie also knows that limits can be helpful. — Faith Hill, The Atlantic Scattered as it often is, the film is bracing- ly funny, and Johnson’s feline grace keeps it grounded. In a multiplex landscape of sequels and superheroes, a messy, grown- up comedy about love and hypocrisy feels like a welcome tonic. — Peter Howell, Toronto Star Splitsville is the sort of variation on an old chestnut that’s divided between being an old-fashioned rom-com that serves as a playground for its cast and a wonky showcase for its behind–the-camera cre- ators. Covino and Marvin end up winning either way. — David Fear, Rolling Stone Splitsville lives up to its title and then some. Guts will be busted and sides will be split. Heck, moviegoers might even learn to kiss and make up with comedies for good. — Barry Hertz, Globe and Mail ARTS ● LIFE I MOVIES ;