The Conjuring: Last Rites Review
A franchise about faith and fear lives or dies on its human core, and The Conjuring: Last Rites knows it. In this fourth installment, franchise leads Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga return for their “final chapter” with a warmth that feels evolved rather than rehashed—grounding a movie that otherwise swings between sturdy chills and overstated chaos. And even though it isn’t technically the freshest entry, it’s still an enjoyable ride.
The Conjuring: Last Rites (2025) | Warner Bros. and New Line Cinema
Wilson & Farmiga are still the franchise's Best Offerings
More than a decade in, Ed and Lorraine Warren remain the series’ not-so-secret weapon. Wilson and Farmiga play them as partners first and paranormal celebrities second—tender, heartfelt, and united by responsibility as much as affection. That balance is the film’s engine: Ed’s dogged protectiveness meets Lorraine’s fragile resolve, and their shared compass—love as duty—keeps the story emotionally legible even when the plot frays.
Wilson grounds Ed in compassion (with a newfound fragility to him that heightens the stakes); on the other hand, Farmiga lets Lorraine carry the spiritual burden without entirely sanctifying her. As a pair, they give the story a reliable center, and that credibility makes every risk feel earned. While The Conjuring universe still has the potential to expand without them, it’s ultimately this pairing that carried the strongest moments of an entire franchise.
A familiar playbook, competently played
Structurally, The Conjuring: Last Rites sticks close to the series blueprint: a rattled family under siege, a house that seems to grow extra doors after dark, priests on speed-dial, and period-appropriate needle drops cranked to eleven. The chaotic domestic sequences do their job—pots clatter, children run rampant down hallways, we get obvious set-ups for novelty scares—but they don’t really take the time to deepen the formula.
In some instances, the film nods toward bigger myth-arc ideas, then retreats to safe territory. The standard haunted-house geography is clear, and the tempo is well-paced, yet the set pieces often resolve exactly how you expect. The approach extends to the music: era-specific tracks crash in, recontextualizing nostalgia as something ominous. If you’ve followed the franchise, you’ll recognize this rhythm beat for beat. It’s competent, sometimes rousing at this point, but it rarely reimagines The Conjuring template.
Judy steps in, and it works
A welcome wrinkle arrives in how the film uses Judy Warren. Rather than a cameo-cutaway, she and her partner are woven into the case with a naturalness that feels overdue for the series’ family dynamics. Their presence doesn’t dwarf the parents or tip the tone into YA territory; instead, it echoes the Warrens’ ethos across generations.
The relationship beats are light but convincing, and their involvement raises the personal stakes without turning the story into a backdoor spinoff trailer. Best of all, Judy’s intuition is treated as a skill earned by proximity and experience, not a plot convenience (though the jingle is one example where it felt a little heavy-handed). When the case tightens, her choices ripple back to Ed and Lorraine in ways that are emotionally coherent and, occasionally, surprisingly moving.
When the fear lands—and when it doesn't
Horror-wise, The Conjuring: Last Rites flickers between genuinely effective sequences and effects-heavy jolts that announce themselves from a mile away. The best scenes are patient: shadows breathe, a doorframe becomes a trap, and the camera lingers just a beat too long. These moments remember why the first two films worked—craft that trusts negative space and sound design more than spectacle.
Elsewhere, you can feel the production flex: creature-feature embellishments, CGI assists, and one or two sound-mix haymakers that mistake volume for terror. The jump scares aren’t worthless (one late-game mirror gag is a fun crowd pleaser), but the digital gloss (like the doll sequence) sometimes scrubs away the grubby, tactile dread that made this series sing. You’ll still get jolted; you’ll just wish more of those hits came from composition and timing rather than pipeline prowess.
Over the top, but ultimately a good time
There’s no pretending the film isn’t outsized. Yet the movie never tips into self-parody, largely because the Warrens feel so human. The performances keep pulling the story back to the stakes that matter: a family in freefall, a marriage weathering the supernatural and the ordinary, a belief that compassion can outlast terror. Even when the imagery leans grandiose, that humane throughline holds. By the time the end arrives, you’re left with something the franchise still does better than most of its imitators: a sense that underneath the terror, its capacity for love—romantic, familial, spiritual—is the actual subject.
Score: 6.5/10
Wilson and Farmiga’s lived-in chemistry gives The Conjuring: Last Rites a beating heart—even if its reliance on well-worn tricks dulls its potential.
