31 Days of Halloween: Dark Corners

Boogeyman (2005)
******* (7 out of 10 stars)
Directors: Stephen Kay
Producer: Eric Kripke, Sam Raimi, Robert Tapert
Starring: Barry Watson, Emily Deschanel, Skye McCole Bartusiak

“Fear. It grows when you hide from it.” – Tim Jensen

Dear readers, I invite you now to step behind the veil and peer into the whispered shadows of Boogeyman. Before my own viewing, I, too, had heard the whispers of mistrust surrounding this film. It was dismissed as boring, pointless, and wholly unremarkable. And yet, having experienced it myself, I find that such harsh criticisms seem both uninspired and unfair. Allow me to share a different perspective on this misunderstood tale.

Boogeyman cannot be approached as one would a modern horror film, rife as they are with gruesome gore and punchy jump scares. This is not a horror story in the contemporary sense, but rather a tale of terror steeped in the ancestry of storytelling traditions. Tinted with the spirit of Gothic Romance, Boogeyman presents a carefully slow, simmering dread, one that invites the mind to linger on its symbolic gestures and imagined fears. This pacing, though alien to many, softens the senses and allows the unease to take root before unfurling in darkness.

From its characters to its very atmosphere, the film is imbued with the hallmarks of Victorian archetypes. This is not the world of relatable, modern protagonists, but of figures who embody the abstract terrors of their environment. Such treatment brings a certain elegance and timelessness, yet it also presents a challenge for those accustomed to more immediate thrills.

To its credit, the film nods with respect to the storytelling techniques of yesteryear. It feels, in many ways, like a eulogy to an era of traditional terror, when dark corridors and childhood fears were enough to chill the soul. Still, Boogeyman is not without its flaws. Chief among them is its curious dalliance with Cosmic Horror, a departure from its Gothic framework that comes across as abrupt and disjointed. To blend these two disparate genres is an ambitious task, and alas, the film’s efforts fall short, leaving the narrative uneven and uncertain of itself. Had it remained steadfast in its Gothic pursuit, the film might have achieved far greater cohesion.

Nevertheless, there is much to appreciate here. The distinctions between terror and modern horror cannot be overstated; while the latter thrives on sensationalism, the former brews in the imagination, feeding on subtler fears. Boogeyman embraces this distinction wholeheartedly, delivering moments that provoke thought and encourage reflection rather than recoil.

While it may never claim a place among my most cherished favorites, Boogeyman stands as a film worthy of consideration. It weaves threads of nostalgia with an earnest attempt to honor traditions of terror, offering a rare glimpse into the interplay between fear and mind. Be warned, this is not for all, but for those whose hearts resonate with atmospheric dread and the slow unfurling of darkness, it might just be worth the watch. Venture at your own peril, and meet the shadows within.