Tuesday, Film4, 9:00pm
Scott Derrickson’s The Black Phone (2022) is a deliciously eerie slice of supernatural horror, adapted from Joe Hill’s short story of the same name. Set in a grimy 1978 suburban sprawl, the film follows young Finney (Mason Thames), who is abducted by the sinister, top-hat-wearing Grabber, played with unsettling glee by Ethan Hawke. Trapped in a soundproof basement, Finney’s only hope comes from a disconnected rotary phone, through which the spirits of the killer’s past victims whisper cryptic advice. Derrickson, who previously helmed Sinister and Doctor Strange, crafts a tense, retro horror piece that feels like It’s grittier, less nostalgic cousin. There’s no cozy ‘80s glow here—just the cold terror of a community haunted by its own neglect.
The film’s soundscape plays a crucial role in its immersive dread. Mark Korven, the mind behind the unnerving score for The Witch, delivers a tense, atonal soundtrack that slithers under your skin like an unseen specter. His use of dissonant strings and eerie drones enhances the film’s claustrophobic unease, punctuated by some well-placed needle drops from the ‘70s rock canon—though don’t expect Dazed and Confused levels of indulgence. The interplay of silence and sound is particularly masterful, with the ghostly phone calls carrying an otherworldly distortion that makes them feel as though they’re vibrating straight from the void. This, combined with Finney’s increasingly desperate attempts to escape, turns the film into a symphony of tension where every ring of that cursed phone lands like a drumbeat of impending doom.
While The Black Phone embraces some familiar horror beats—creepy masks, dead kids whispering secrets, a villain who’d make a great cautionary tale in Goosebumps—it elevates itself through strong performances and a script that lingers on childhood trauma and resilience. Hawke’s Grabber is pure nightmare fuel, a mix of Pennywise and John Wayne Gacy, while Madeleine McGraw nearly steals the film as Finney’s fierce, psychic little sister. In the grand tradition of Stephen King adaptations (Joe Hill being King’s actual son, lest we forget), the film nestles comfortably alongside Stand by Me and It, where the true horror isn’t just the monster in the basement—it’s the world that lets monsters thrive.
- Noel Chambers