Black Phone 2 Review

This review is based on a screening which took place at the 2025 Fantastic Fest Film Festival. Black Phone 2 will be released theatrically in the United States on October 17.

In the wrong hands, sequels can be predatory pursuits. When studio executives watch films like Sinister or The Black Phone amass healthy box office returns, the desire to double-dip burns like an inferno. Dollar signs (can or might) outweigh creative pursuits. But in the right hands, a sequel broadens new ideas and spawns fresh potential. A sequel can unlock storytelling you'd never expect. Director Scott Derrickson and his co-writer C. Robert Cargill refuse to let Black Phone 2 be another redundant Hollywood cash-in, and by their efforts, bring us as close to Freddy Krueger as we'll get until there's another A Nightmare on Elm Street.

The Black Phone wasn’t intended to have a sequel, based on a one-off Joe Hill story as it was. Derrickson and Cargill are in uncharted territory, which becomes their advantage. Ethan Hawke returns as The Grabber, not of flesh and bone; he's a boogeyman in your nightmares, yet the pain he inflicts leaves real scars. But The Grabber’s resurrection is hardly a Wes Craven knockoff. The filmmakers’ new nightmare is an ambitious evolution of The Black Phone that proves horror sequels don't have to recycle the same cheap thrills for another go-around. Despite borrowing Jason Voorhees' campground backdrop, this film is not just another repetitive sequel like Friday the 13th has been known to produce.

Frankly, Black Phone 2 is a punk rock horror sequel. Derrickson and Cargill ripen evils instead of playing the old hits. The Grabber transforms from a kiddie-killing sicko to a devil's reject who took ice-skating lessons. The survivor’s guilt of the first film’s Finney sees returning actor Mason Thames playing him as a haunted pot-head, while Madeleine McGraw, also back from Part 1, steps into the lead role as Finney’s sister Gwen, channeling her lucid dreams and clairvoyant abilities. Denver's quiet suburbs are traded for blizzard conditions at the Alpine Lake Catholic sleepaway camp, sending wintery, frostbitten chills up our spines, brought on by The Grabber's freezer-burned appearance. It's nothing like the original, nor does it want to depend on familiarity. The filmmakers make the most of their second chance—this ain't a churn-and-burn continuation.

The film is an ambitious evolution of The Black Phone that proves horror sequels don't have to recycle the same cheap thrills for another go-around.

The murderous events of The Black Phone leave Finney and Gwen rightfully traumatized, which puts a heavy emphasis on character exploration. Finney numbs the pain with "devil's lettuce," stalked by hallucinations of The Grabber, while Gwen answers the ring of black phones, driven by a pursuit for answers and the opportunity to help other lost souls. The script ruminates on grief and unrest by sorting through Finney and Gwen's psychological damage, but can dawdle at times before The Grabber's malevolence is felt in full force once again. There's also the addition of Demián Bichir's camp supervisor, whose biblical knowledge and reliance on faith bring holiness into a conversation about bleak-as-tar evils for added theological debates. But Black Phone 2 is always Finney and Gwen's showcase. A brother-sister ghostbusting drama that tastes awfully dour until past the halfway point, when The Grabber's hold turns emotional hurts into gaping wounds and breathless terrors raise the ante.

That's not to say Black Phone 2 is only valuable when kiddos become cadaver popsicles. It's more the anticipation of inevitable snowscape horrors that’s nipping at our nose, which can't help but distract in the slightest while Finney and Gwen wrestle with lingering demons. Miguel Mora reprises his role as Ernesto Arellano, living on in his brother Robin's honor as Gwen's sweetheart of a love interest. Jeremy Davies earns redemption as the now sober Terrance, the supportive and loving papa to Finney and Gwen. It's all necessary to further define how post-traumatic stress can tear your world apart, paired with the hopefulness that brighter days can prevail, but you can sense the film's nearly two-hour runtime. Not terribly detrimentally, yet still, there's a missing giddyup at times.

Past that gripe, Black Phone 2 is a rich slasher mystery that transcends life and death. Hawke's turn as a vengeful iteration of The Grabber's deceased self is fire and brimstone, and his flesh-rotting face, which he exposes sans mask to drive home terrifying imagery, bears scorched scars from Hell. Derrickson whips out his Super 8 camera to denote whenever Gwen has entered The Grabber's sleep realm, where she alone can confront her villain, which is a clever visual touch to differentiate between reality and dreamland. There's an old-school Hollyweird feel to these sequences, like Gwen stars in her own uncanny movie, but then we're quickly ripped back to (the film's) reality, where she's gushing blood or being tossed around like an invisible ragdoll. Derrickson ensures stakes are dreadfully real in either universe, unleashing violence that leaves your mouth agape.

For as ponderous and introspective as Black Phone 2 can be, it's still a fresh reinvention of traditional slasher tropes. Even the stereotype about how horror sequels tend to go bonkers is on display, since The Grabber has an entire icecapades routine on magical frozen blades. The film's cheekiness—snowmen with The Grabber's smile, his maniacal taunts via conversation—is abundant. And yet, Black Phone 2 matters beyond dreadful realizations and hacked-in-half noggins. Derrickson and Cargill navigate the murky themes of self-imprisonment and meaningful recovery, ultimately conveying a wholesome message, but not before subjecting their characters to grave desperation. It's a lot to digest, and sorrow weighs heavily, but at the end of it all, these filmmakers find a way to leave us uplifted while still delivering all the slashery goodness we so crave.