‘Black Phone’ has a very promising start, taking its time to establish the foundations of what it intends to be a dramatic story plunged into an uncomfortable atmosphere of permanent tension. Something that it achieves… halfway, being a film that seems made… halfway. In addition to being frustrating, of course, because it starts from a promising start towards a destination that does not quite meet that initial expectation. More than a movie, ‘Black Phone’ is a disjointed succession of unconnected and undeveloped ideas that parade in single file, routinely and without hiding their predictability. Ideas that, although they share the same footage, do not feed each other, of a self-limited potential that advances in a straight line without building an ‘in crescendo’, nor giving body or volume to what ends up precipitating, without further ado, in a daily and vulgar way. . Gratuitously and capriciously, irrelevant. Despite the convincing work of Mason Thames and Madeleine McGraw, the story of these two brothers is watered down by a schematic simplicity that is not even compensated – as in the ‘Warren Files’ franchise – with a varied assortment of scares. One, two at the most. And stop counting. Little baggage for a film that fails to value its elements. Make sense of your premise. Or foundation. Or credibility. So that it doesn’t seem like any other nonsense despite her exquisite seventies atmosphere. Thus, ‘Black Phone’ ends up being a silly and random film reduced to its minimum expression, either from the script or in editing, tending its intended emotional impact to indifference. This is her real problem, the obviousness of her climax or the lack of bite. His null provocative or disturbing spirit. Or the absence of blood, who knows if -Blumhouse through- conceived only in order to mount a nice trailer (based on a suspiciously rough assembly). In this way, ‘Black Phone’ is the adaptation of a short story that falls short for the cinema. Elegantly wrapped, but resolved without vigor. Self-limited to the minimum required, being unable to hide that it is bullshit… professionally, but of little benefit.
By Juan Pairet Iglesias
@Wanchopex