Judging from last night’s screening of Drag Me to Hell, Sam Raimi’s long-awaited return to the horror genre gets the sort of reaction you’d imagine the director was after: screams of terror dissolving almost instantly into self-mocking laughter at having fallen for the director’s tricks yet again. This is a movie that goes bump in the night – if you want your date jumping into your lap, it’s the perfect choice for a night out. But let’s not get carried away equating its modest charms with the demented energy and deranged inventiveness of Raimi’s early work, most notably Evil Dead 2.

Actually, “charms” is not a great word choice, unless you find the prospect of a wizened Gypsy removing her rotting dentures in extreme close-up charming.

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