For this film, a loose adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s novel Vineland, the shots vary between languid and almost thunderously violent, from the lilting trills in Jonny Greenwood’s soundtrack, to abrasively coarse auditory punch-outs. At times, it’s like the effect of flipping through random channels on your TV, the sudden change of tone and timbre shocking you with their contrast.  

The conceit of the series is that the films are based on the real-life case files of the Warrens, who documented their encounters via various tape and video recordings (clips of which were often shown during the closing credits to suitably chilling effect). In theory, this has always added a bit of heft to the otherwise pretty flimsy goings-on, though by now, so much of the Warrens’ "accounts" have been thoroughly debunked — including supposed paranormal doozies like the Amityville haunting — it’s pretty much impossible not to take all of these films without a boulder of salt.