The Black Phone

Director: Scott Derrickson
Starring: Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Ethan Hawke, Jeremy Davies, E. Roger Mitchell, Troy Rudeseal, James Ransone, Miguel Cazarez Mora, Rebecca Clarke, J. Gaven Wilde, Spencer Fitzgerald, Jordan Isaiah White, Brady Ryan, Tristan Pravong, Jacob Moran, Brady Hepner, Banks Repeta
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

A crime thriller and supernatural slasher make for strange bedfellows in writer/director Scott Derrickson's The Black Phone. Adapted from a 2004 short story by Joe Hill (son of Stephen King), it's easy to see why this has gotten so much attention since there's much to admire, with some really affecting performances from its young actors and an outrageously villainous turn from a major star that feels like a drastic departure. It also sees the underrated Derrickson (Sinister and Dr. Strange) further proving his chops by bringing a certain amount of respectability and craftmanship to some familiar tropes we've seen executed far clumsier in the past. And even when mechanically fulfilling certain required beats of the plot, he still manages to keep tension high throughout, thanks in no small part to a realistically unnerving period backdrop.

Containing some effective jump scares, it opens as almost a 70's true crime docudrama before merging with a horror entry mainstream enough for its antagonist to draw comparisons to Michael Myers, Jason or Jigsaw. His methods and idealology might be different, but the spectacle is there, with an instantly iconic look that would sell truckloads of Halloween masks each year if not for the marketing hurdle that the villain's a child abductor. And that's the push-pull of this creep fest Derrickson admirably navigates with a visual aesthetic dripping in the era in which it takes place. Because of the disturbing subject matter, certain moments can be taken very seriously, as the gears grind on a plot that delivers extreme discomfort alongside its entertainment.  

In 1978 a serial kidnapper nicknamed "The Grabber"(Ethan Hawke) roams the streets of a small Denver suburb in his black van searching for his next target while siblings Finney (Mason Thames) and Gwen Blake (Madeleine McGraw) struggle to contend with their alcoholic, physically abusive father Terrence (Jeremy Davies). At school, the shy Finney is constantly bullied, with his only friend Robin (Miguel Cazarez Mora) coming to the rescue but recognizing Finney will eventually have to stand up for himself. 

With The Grabber's victims growing in number as Finney's classmates disappear, Gwen (who's inherited her late mother's psychic abilities) starts having dreams about the crimes that pique police  interest. But they'll need her help when Finney's abducted by The Grabber, awaking in a grungy basement with a disconnected black rotary phone on the wall ringing mysteriously. To escape, he'll have to listen to the voices of the previous victims making contact on the line, guiding him as he finds the courage to outmaneuver this masked monster. 

Establishing itself in a way most horror entries don't, this carries an aura of authenticity that completely draws you into the setting. From the sights and sounds to the 70's soundtrack and wardrobe choices, it's all more than mere window dressing when juxtaposed with news-style footage of the kidnappings. This overpromises in teasing a scenario you're just not sure Derrickson's script (co-penned by C. Robert Cargill) can deliver on, as we dread what potential creative concessions will come to make it more audience-friendly. Those eventually arrive, but for its opening stretch, a mood and atmosphere is established that feels truly unique. 

Believably creating a deep onscreen sibling bond, Thames and McGraw's performances are might be the film's biggest asset, as their scenes opposite a bearded, unhinged Davies carry a uneasiness matched only by the school-set bullying sequences. And a couple of those are realistically violent enough to seem completely at home in the era, relying far more on the build than copious amounts of gore. Derrickson also wisely keeps The Grabber out of view in the initial stages, saving most of the character's best scenes for when Finney ends up in his clutches. 

Coming and going as the plot dictates, Gwen's psychic visions are the story's weakest link, but McGraw's such a revelation in the role you overlook it, bringing humor, warmth and spunk to a girl who doesn't toe the line and is as protective of her brother as he is of her. Still, it's tempting to imagine how it all could have played without her Shining-like powers dictating the plot since so much of this is already strong enough on its own. While the supernatural flourishes don't ever quite reconcile with the viciousness of the actual crimes, an exception comes with a spectacularly filmed sequence where Gwen's visions take her inside the personal history of someone who could have all the answers.

If the black phone of the title connecting Finney to The Grabber's victims sometimes feels gimmicky, the cat-and-mouse game between captor and captive doesn't. It mostly overcomes genre contrivances since Finney's backstory as an under-confident pushover powers the narrative forward as he attempts to somehow gain an advantage on his abductor. With a handful of black balloons and a smiling mask inspired by Lon Chaney's character in London After Midnight, Ethan Hawke's all in as this deranged child murderer fronting as an amateur magician. It's hard not to draw comparisons to Pennnywise or a demented Willy Wonka, but Hawke makes this top-hatted madman his own and the last act delivers what's expected about as well as possible. 

All the ingredients were there for this to entirely break from convention and put more standard horror fare to shame, but that's just not what the source material is, earning the remainder of its points from Brett Jutkiewicz's cinematography and Patti Podesta's production design. Of Blumhouse's recent releases, The Black Phone stands as one of its more ambitious, doing enough to please devotees of Hill's short story and fans of the unquestionably talented Derrickson, whose best film is likely still ahead of him.