Like most of you, I abandon watching "normal" movies in October, and stack the deck with horror movies. One of the first out of the gate was The Changeling as per the request of my sister. It's one of those quirks of family history that she saw it long before I did (during a slumber party, no less!) and rented it for me, insisting that it would scare the crap out of me. It did. It's been awhile since I saw this last, and I fully expected to go to bed with all the lights on. Ghost movies are one of the few that can eat at me during the long nighttime hours when I'm up writing, even when I've seen them before. But this time? Nothing. A few jumps, but I could leave the lights off pretty comfortably.
It's not a surprise that The Changeling has lost its effect on me after so many years. It's the kind of thing you see on Ghost Hunters nowadays (doors opening mysteriously, ghostly voices on a tape recorder), and no jump factor holds up through multiple viewings. No, what startled me was how upsetting I found the film to be. Perhaps I've grown older and more sensitive, but now I find Joseph's whispery voice to be a different kind of nightmare, and one that tugs on my heartstrings more than my fear factor. I'll admit it: I actually got a little choked up when he pleads for help. His end is tragic, his ghostly demands are pathetically simple, and it's hard to be scared of him. I don't even feel fear when he tears apart the house in the end. He's a kid. When they're angry and upset, they'll lash out at anyone and that's all the finale is.