The Woman In Black

I saw a trailer for The Woman In Black a couple months back and thought it looked interesting, if a little staid. I forgot all about it until seeing commercials on the net last week trumpeting its release. Since I am a 73 year old man, I caught a solo 9:45 AM Saturday morning show today and am proud to report that with this and the blissfully idiotic Underworld:Awakening under its belt, 2012 is off to a solid start for horror films. The Woman in Black's cut rate elegance and grim ponderousness stands in stark contrast to the explosive insanity of 20 foot tall werewolves throwing cars and eating silver bullets for breakfast. It's a testament to the elasticity of the genre that two such varied approaches can call its heading home. Sure, there are some qualifying sub categories to add to each respective appellation, but we're still talking about werewolves, ghosts and vampires here.

The Woman in Black comically presents us with a startlingly diminutive Daniel Radcliffe as a widower and father to a young son. After a chilling, wordless opening sequence, there is some awkward business establishing Radcliffe as said widower, father and apparently lawyer (?!), being sent by his heartless firm to settle an estate in some mysterious small town in turn of the century England. Once we do away with this faltering handling of exposition, the film settles into a nice groove as Radcliffe travels to this eerie town. A melancholy village crushed by sadness and full of secrets. I don't do plot synopsis, so suffice to say, the tragic back story that is glacially doled out serves its purpose without drawing attention to itself or breaking any ground. Rather, it is how well this film tells its story, with such choking atmosphere I felt like I was slowly being suffocated in my seat. For a film like this, that's a good thing.

The attention to period detail, the costuming and the set design elevate this from brain dead found footage chair jumper fare to lovingly crafted genre exercise. Care was put into this film, it feels part of a rich tradition (it was produced by the legendary Hammer studios) instead of shortsightedly designed to callously cash in on current trends. Effort was involved in the production of this film and it shows. It's nice to be treated like a connoisseur instead of a consumer, even if I'm turning up to the earliest matinee possible to only pay 5$ for my ticket.

I was quite impressed with Radcliffe. He isn't given a great deal to do, but he anchors the film admirably. Considering large swaths of the movie are primarily comprised of him wandering alone around a dark, creepy mansion holding a candle aloft, that he keeps the audience invested is no small feat. He carries the picture on the strength of his delicate features, expressive eyes and abundant, unruly hair. The stubble and sideburns help a little to separate him from the boy wizard we've spent the last decade watching come of age, but a train car sequence opposite Ciaran Hinds early on is a blatant reminder of how minuscule this fellow is.

The scares are well done, if telegraphed and a tad conventional. The tension level doesn't reach heart stopping Insidious levels, but that isn't exactly called for here. It's more about the slow burn, the ever tightening vise grip of ghastly, ghostly vengeance. The inescapable and ever escalating dread leading to an unexpectedly dark denouement. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing this film. I doubt it will stick with me past next weekend, but it entertained and involved me. It features several strong performances, spectacular production design and stately imagery (the standout being a winding road leading to the haunted mansion submerged each day by high tide). It's a pleasantly morose tale, well told and well made. What more can you ask for from this sort of film?