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  Manisha Lakhe

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I love horror movies. I like the alarm, the sudden falling of the heart into the lap of my stomach. I love, yes indeed, I love the furious churning of the contents of my stomach when alien creatures out to eat people spew green phlegm, the bile welling up even when the movie is not a horror film but manages to evince a visceral reaction from you (prime example, is when human fat in the ziploc bag …

I love horror movies. I like the alarm, the sudden falling of the heart into the lap of my stomach. I love, yes indeed, I love the furious churning of the contents of my stomach when alien creatures out to eat people spew green phlegm, the bile welling up even when the movie is not a horror film but manages to evince a visceral reaction from you (prime example, is when human fat in the ziploc bag drips after the bag is snagged in the barbed wire between Brad Pitt and Edward Norton in Fight Club)



There’s nothing wrong with the scarefest in Woman In Black. There are enough moments where you realise that your back is stuck to the seat, where you realise that you are holding your breath in sheer anticipation. The biggest problem for me was watching Harry ... Erm... Play grown up. And that too a widower with kids. Daniel Radcliffe is too much of boy wizard and I am not sorry when I say his expressions are not exactly far away from those we have seen in seven movies where he comes face to face with Voldemort. In fact, he is now so typecast that you expect Voldemort to come hissing at the lad from the next dark corner. Being typecast is not bad because it hides the flaws in the plot.



This movie is set in England, but it fails to rise beyond the mists and the marshes and silly Victorian dolls and the mysteriously rocking horse. Puhleeees! Get rid of the flickering candles and the predictable hostility of the weird looking locals and you have only shadows that pass you by and ghosts who creep up from behind you. What Paranormal Activity, Blair Witch Project and Saw achieved with their easy access to the inside of your head, movies such as Woman In Black fall under the same category as the very Bollywood scream fare that is loud and mostly silly, eg. Haunted and Ragini MMS. There are moments that alarm you, but none worth the price of the multiplex ticket.