For an hour the film is great – then, increasingly, less so. It’s not just the over-enthusiastic bits of English-working-class local colour, more a case of the horrors becoming too literal. It’s not scary when the ‘crooked man’ from the kids’ nursery rhyme comes to life as a spindly boogeyman, or when the deep spectral voice turns out to belong to a grumpy old codger, now deceased. The second half is both too flabby and increasingly daft.
June 13, 2016