I love horror but it’s a genre that I find myself falling out of love with quite often. Many times it seems that even those producing it are aware of how silly it can be, so they forget to scare the audience and try to make the viewers laugh instead, and if even the filmmakers aren’t going to take it seriously, why should I suspend my disbelief for their work?
But there is nothing cheesy or fun in the slightest about Sinister. There’s very little to smile about here. It’s an oppressive and unremittingly dark movie – both visually and in tone; right down to the unforgiving way that it ends – and that’s what is so damn good about it.
Sinister was the last great horror movie that I saw at the cinema, and I’ve only seen it once. I bought it on disc a few years ago but still haven’t watched it again, because I remember how bleak and depressing it was the first time round. But bleak and depressing in a way that good horror is supposed to embrace.
Sinister leaves you with a pervasive feeling of dread that is almost palpable, and makes you want to find the nearest source of sunshine… because bad things don’t happen in the light, do they?