In 1978, a small Denver community was being terrorized by a serial kidnapper stalking and abducting their children. “The Grabber” (Ethan Hawke), as he is referred to in the news, captures Finney (Mason Thames), but the boy will not go down without a fight. In his cell, Finney receives calls from a mysterious black phone with the voices of The Grabber’s previous victims on the other end of the line. Outside of the cell, Finney’s sister Gwen (Madeleine McGraw) channels her faith asking to be sent visions and clues as to her brother’s whereabouts before it is too late.
The Black Phone is a reteaming of Hawke and writer/director Scott Derrickson. With assistance on the page by C. Robert Cargill, based off of a short story by Joe Hill of the same name, the Blumhouse Production was given a summer release by Universal Pictures after being pulled from its original February frame. The faith in the title was well-founded as The Black Phone is an engaging thriller that plays with the ghost story format.
At the heart of the film is the squaring-off between Finney and The Grabber. Hawke elevates the film with his menacing performance and never lets us get too comfortable with him. He changes his voice and his posture at will so that, while we always feel the danger he brings to Finney, his next move is always obscured. There is an argument that could be made that The Grabber is not fleshed out enough, that there is none of the expected lore that comes with serial offenders, but this evil for the sake of being evil is a frightening motive and it is refreshing that this villain does not link up to some greater conspiracy. This simplicity courses its way through the entire narrative of The Black Phone and that independence from a web of little details allows it to focus more on the story and not get so preoccupied with laying out red herrings to distract the audience for a third act reveal. It also allows Hawke the freedom to be nasty, and while his performance is restrained, especially when compared to Bill Skarsgård’s kid-killing-clown Pennywise in It (2017), Hawke has plenty of chill-inducing moments in the 103-minute thriller to cause feelings of discomfort and dread in the audience.
Amy Andrews provides the costume design for the film and outfits The Grabber, a parlor room magician, in a mostly black outfit with a striking two-part demon skull mask. The Grabber is then able to change the bottom half of his face to a grotesque smile or a scowling frown. Brett Jutkiewicz’s camera then comes in close to Hawke’s face and the actor’s incredibly expressive eyes that dart back and forth from behind the mask giving an incredible amount of nuance and physicality to a performance behind a mask; no easy feat.
The hero of the film comes in the form of the shaggy-haired, quiet teen, Finney. Thames, in his first feature role, has incredible chemistry with Hawke. His performance starts off a little rocky, but once it becomes a showdown between Finney and The Grabber, Thames is able to match and return Hawkes energy with surprising skill. The film asks an incredible range of the young actor of some of the more harrowing emotions such as terror, grief, and pain. Despite being, in large part, a confrontation between Finney and his abductor, the script also allows for some poignant interactions between Finney and the previous victims who communicate with him from beyond the grave through the titular black phone. It is an interesting take on the unfinished business brand of ghost stories as the previous victims all help guide Finney in his own survival as a captive and help to motivate him to keep moving forward. It also allows for a poignant moment between Finney and his best friend, Robin (Miguel Cazarez Mora), who had a bit of an opposites attract based relationship at school. The rough and tumble bad boy would stand up for Finney against some of the schoolyard bullies in exchange not just for tutoring assistance, but we also get a sense that there was a genuine enjoyment of each other’s company, too. Here, Robin is able to share some of his own knowledge about self-defense and combat, unlocking a fierce spirit in the otherwise broken-down boy.
Outside of The Grabber’s basement, Gwen is working tirelessly to try and solve the case. The script does not pay her any favors in this role as an adolescent savant, mostly because the script has her turning to Jesus for her otherworldly advice. This introduction and reliance on religion does not seem to fit the texture of the rest of the world of the film, so almost all of Gwen’s scenes feel off. We quickly learn that their father, Terrence (Jeremy Davies), does what he can to suppress Gwen’s claims of visions as their now-deceased mother would also talk about the voices and visions she received from the spiritual realm. Further, we learn that this communication led their mother to die by suicide, so it is understandable that Terrence does not want her daughter following in those same footsteps. In a world where the presence of ghosts is undisputable as seen in Finney’s interactions with the previous victims, it feels like an easy out to have Gwen rely on religion for her visions especially as The Black Phone is not interested in engaging in a conversation about good and bad spirits and the trickiness of the devil or other demons who are often portrayed as impersonators of a more benevolent being. It is hard to separate if it is this disconnected tone or just an unrefined performance that was unable to be guided by Derrickson’s direction that leads McGraw to becoming the unfortunate weak link of the film.
The Black Phone is a taught thriller that builds on itself very nicely. It plays out a bit like a mystery once Finney is abandoned in the soundproof basement as the memory of prior prisoners of The Grabber slowly begin to come together and show Finney a sliver of hope in a pathway to escape. A few minor jump scares peppered throughout will keep the horror fans engaged, and the film is not without its fair share of upsetting images of gore, but those seeking a bloodbath may find it lacking. The balance issues and muddied thematic clarity aside, Derrickson takes a simple concept and spins it into a unique experience. While it is accessible to consumers outside of the immediate genre, it is, unfortunately, lacking that punch to really elevate the film so that it can break out of the Blumhouse demographic and reach a wider audience in its release much like Andy Muschietti did with It, but The Black Phone is a strong offering none the less.