Ghosts clock out as ‘Last Rites’ ends the ‘Conjuring’ saga
They say 2025 is the great year of horror films. The Conjuring: Last Rites (2025, directed by Michael Chaves) is, unfortunately, not one of them. It will still satisfy the typical Filipino movie fan who loves jump scares and contorted body movements.
This franchise has also proven to be a reliable salary source for formidable actors like Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga (as supernatural specialists Ed and Lorraine Warren). Perhaps that is the truly great thing about the series: it assures a cash grab that funds these two when they venture into the independent arthouse projects where they truly shine.
Another good thing about Last Rites is that it closes the franchise. You can see the connective tissue to the original films as well as the spin-offs (Annabelle, The Nun). What made The Conjuring (2013, directed by James Wan) the only true standout is that while it said nothing particularly new, it still offered a fresh take on horror. A horror-film version of American exceptionalism kicked off.
The franchise then crossed the Atlantic for a British detour, yet kept its familiar staples: (1) a cellar or basement scene, (2) withered pale ghosts, (3) tormented children—always white, (4) lots of water and near-drownings, (5) heavy Catholic imagery, and (6) the ever-present claim of being based on “true stories.
If you know U.S. history, the WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) has long been the most powerful archetype of American identity. The Warrens, however, were Catholics and official investigators for the Church.
That detail matters: they look like a typical white couple living their American dream, but their dream happens to be a profitable occupation in exorcism—an entrepreneurial model of haunting that could only thrive in the U.S. The Philippines surely has its own ghostbusters, but none as storied, mythologized, or lucrative as the Warrens
Their area of specialization is not just the spectral—it is, at least through the films, the torments of the working and middle classes. Across the franchise, the haunted are usually those of modest means.
The Perrons in the first film were a truck driver’s family who bought a farmhouse cheaply. The Hodgsons of The Conjuring 2 lived in British council housing. The third film focused on Arne Johnson, a young arborist—not exactly a white-collar profession. And now, the final film turns to the Smurls, a family of eight in West Pittston, Pennsylvania, a historically working-class heartland.
The working-class connection is an interesting thread. Space itself is a luxury and a privilege. It is already horrific to be crammed into tight living quarters—and worse when phantasms and demons intrude. A mansion, by contrast, offers plenty of room to steer clear of spirits. Besides, tormenting the rich is rarely the genre’s interest—unless, of course, the ghosts are in their contracts and “ghost projects.”
You may reach Chong Ardivilla at kartunistatonto@gmail.com or chonggo.bsky.social
