★★

Now then, who remembers The Nun? Not the character, per se, but the film. The Corin Hardy directed Conjuring spin off that proved a box office phenomenon in 2018. The one about the satanic sister with a bad habit for homicide. No? No church bells ringing? Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Indeed, so convinced are the makers of the film’s long time coming sequel that nobody remembers The Nun that a whole scene in part two is devoted to an abridged retelling. Just one of many dreadfully dull vignettes in a slog full of them. While a whole new team were assembled for this one, the woes are unchanged. Maybe it’s time to recognise that Valak, for all Bonnie Aarons’ snarling efforts, simply cannot sustain a story of her own.

Having already directed the weakest Conjuring film, and its least successful spin off, Michael Chaves feels a peculiar choice for The Nun II. There’s no more verve or ingenuity in the direction of this one than the prior two. Not that rote penmanship from M3GAN screenwriter Akela Cooper offers much scope for flair. Even Valak seems uninspired in her killings, each of which land from the stock trope textbook and with the monotonous regularity of a dripping tap. As set in a mythologically vintage mid-50s Europe, the film is handsome enough but hasn’t a wimple of momentum. The narrative is aimless, with each jump scare more deeply unsatisfying than the last. Never mind heart-racing, The Nun II couldn’t rattle a pacemaker.

The film is set some four years on from the close of its predecessor. Demián Bichir’s Father Burke has died – or found better work elsewhere – but Taissa Farmiga’s Sister Irene remains convent committed, albeit now in Italy. As for Jonas Bloquet’s likeable Romanian Frenchie, he’s backpacking across the continent, ostensibly with the goal of starting a tomato farm in Hungary. There’s a broadly sweet subplot here that sees Frenchie share doe-eyes with Narnia’s Anna Popplewell, who plays a resilient teacher, and bond with her daughter Sophie (engaging newcomer Katelyn Rose Downey). Little Sophie is bullied by a clique of ghastly prep school girls but will more than prove her worth.

Chaves opens, however, in Tarascon, where Valak is terrorising the descendants of Saint Lucy of Syracuse, patron of the blind. What with her track record for escaping demon nuns, Sister Irene is called upon by the Vatican to investigate. A woefully underused Storm Reid (Euphoria, Missing) is deployed too, as the vaguely agnostic Sister Debra, sent to the order against her better inclinations. Hints at religious cynicism early on – Irene is commanded by the church to perform a second miracle on cue – are interesting but go nowhere.

A leaden pace too exposes a feeling that the production lacks clarity in its tonal intentions. What begins as straightforward haunting fodder soon left turns to thriller. When the mystery is dumbly solved, the film’s recourse is to lacklustre possession horror. There’s precious little fun to be had. Farmiga spends the entire film looking as one might on discovering Japanese Knotweed in a neighbour’s garden, while her opponent merely pops up in every other scene like some sort of moribund Where’s Wally. It’s hard to be frightened when the so-called scares prove so dreadfully predictable. Worse still, her victims’ accents vary so wildly that you’re almost willing Valak to put the actors out of their drama school misery.

Only twice does The Nun II flirt with anything remotely alike brilliance. The first is a magazine stand set piece, much teased in trailers. The second comes as Irene and Debra visit the Papal library in Paris. On learning that Valak seeks the eyes of Saint Lucy, Irene gasps ‘why does it want that?’ ‘It’s a demon,’ comes the very dry reply.

T.S.