The Conjuring (2013)

Shot with a marvelous 1970s vibe down to the opening credit crawl, “The Conjuring” takes the old “based on a true story” tag used by so lame horror movies and makes it something to scream about again. CGI? None that I saw. Plot: The Perrons (Ron Livingston and Lili Taylor are the parents) move into a massive farm house. An old, hidden basement is found. Clocks stop. The dog dies. One girl sleep walks. Another is pulled from bed. Handclaps are heard. The instances then turn shocking until mother calls in Christian paranormal investigators (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga). The woman can “see” ghosts, and the house is full of them. I’ll stop. Watch. Director James Wan works his film effortlessly, opening on a seemingly unrelated tale of doll. Are they unrelated? Music, editing, the giving of information, all are top notch, and climax is relentlessly tense. I have finally seen a film that can stand near “Exorcist.” I can’t get past one line where Farmiga says the ghost had not yet been violent. Did the actress misspeak? (Ignore that.) This is a nightmare inducer, the kind I’d sneak watch as a teen, sound low. I loved those moments. A- 

Insidious (2011)

American-made horror flicks, especially ones rated PG-13, are a dime-a-dozen and pointless as alcohol-free beer. The urge to shock and cut a swath through the audience is undone by the need to ensure 12-year-olds can get in. “Insidious” is an exception. Dig it: Ghosts and ghouls rule your new dream house, but it isn’t the home that’s haunted. It’s your child. Spooky. That’s the premise that drives our parent heroes (Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne) to tumble desperate into the arms of some ghost busters straight out of “Poltergeist.” Dig it further: Imagine, guys, coming home to see our wife talking to your own mother … and a priest. (I’d shit myself.) As with “Poltergeist,” what we don’t see is the real shocker, not blasé gore. The rating lulled me in, and the film whacked me on the head, “Sixth Sense” style. Too many scenes at the end are dark to the point of murky (and baffling) confusion, and the villain is murkier, but “Insidious” had me up at 3 a.m., listening for spooked baby monitors we do not own. B

Morning Glory (2010)

“Broadcast News” for the Kardashian Age. “Morning Glory” is a sweet woman-at-work-rom-com, with bright-as-the-sun Rachel McAdams as a Jersey girl-turned-TV-producer bounced to the New York A.M. news circus. Not “Today,” or “Good Morning, America,” but a bottom-rung show called “Daybreak,” with a pervy egotist (Ty Burrell) and a prima donna (Diane Keaton) as the leads. Out goes the creep, and in comes once-great news anchor Mike Pomeroy (Harrison Ford), dragged kicking and glaring by McAdams’ hap-hap-happy Becky Fuller. The film takes limp wimp shots at the news-or-glitter debate that befuddles newscasters, yet takes a full dive with an answer that is pure Reality TV Hollywood: Who cares about content, as long as people are buying. I’m not shocked. The rom-com is similarly dull as Patrick Wilson as Mr. Right for Ms. Fuller is so nice-guy blank, the character could have been played by Wilson the Ball from “Cast Away.” The cast saves the day. Ford plays his infamous cold personality to great effect, and Keaton is bubbly and winning, as she always is on camera. B-

Lakeview Terrace (2008)

Directed by Neil LaBute, "Lakeview Terrace" gives a twist to the Neighbor From Hell Thriller plot: The couple is interracial (Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington) and the brooding psychopath next door is a racist black (Samuel L. Jackson) ... who happens to be an L.A. cop. The film is at its best in showing verbal tit-for-tats, especially between Wilson and Jackson, and then the couple themselves as cracks form in the marriage. The film stumbles as Jackson's hell-bent cop slogs through several on-the-job cliches (the crying thug is laughably bad), and all-out stumbles as a massive forest fire destroys the neighborhood during the gun-popping climax. Not remotely subtle. C+