There came a moment during my screening of The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It where I almost forgot I was watching a horror movie. It's the scene where Vera Farmiga's Lorraine Warren is sitting by the bedside of her husband, Ed (Patrick Wilson), who has recently suffered a demon-influenced heart attack, as she recounts the story of how they first met to their friend and colleague, Father Gordon (Steve Coulter). Rather than maintain the scene as a mere monologue, however, director Michael Chaves and writer David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick turn the story into its own flashback, allowing us to see the young versions of Ed and Lorraine and their incidental meeting as teenagers that quickly turned into a meet-cute the likes of which could rival any rom-com. When the two share their first kiss inside a gazebo during a surprise rainstorm, it's a scene that serves to successfully reiterate the biggest secret ingredient to this franchise: the enduring romance between its leads that exists at the very heart of the story.

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Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga in The Conjuring 3 (2021)
Image via Warner Bros.

Granted, the main continuity of Conjuring movies, which kicked off back in 2013 with James Wan in the director's chair, has always been largely focused on the investigations pursued by its central two characters. The franchise primarily draws inspiration from the purported "real case files" of the late Ed and Lorraine Warren and the alleged hauntings they investigated over the course of their career, as well as the now-closed Occult Museum containing the supposedly cursed objects taken from those cases, and the films reinjected horror into findings that have since been debunked or dismissed by skeptics and critics. One could definitely make the case that the Warrens who appear on-screen as portrayed by Wilson and Farmiga are arguably written as a type of RPF (real person fiction), with almost little to no resemblance to the real-life versions aside from the names and professions, a divide that those involved with making the movies have sought to emphasize with every new installment.

With all that in mind, building a horror franchise around a duo of paranormal investigators isn't necessarily anything that's going to reinvent the wheel — but as 2013's The Conjuring and The Conjuring 2 three years later proves (not to mention parts of 2019's Annabelle Comes Home and this latest sequel), the secret sauce to the success of this universe lies in the central romance between Ed and Lorraine. Their relationship, their marriage, and the continuing support they have for one another not only ground the story surrounded by the fantastical and the terrifying, but provide much-needed moments of levity and relief that elevate the movies from typical ghost horror fare to something that feels not more complex and genuine. The stakes become that much higher when your business partner is also your life partner, and the person you would face down a possessed mother for or rescue from an ancient demon who wears the guise of a nun.

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Image via Warner Bros. 

The Warrens' gazebo meet-cute is a reference that gets brought up several more times over the course of the latest Conjuring movie but never is it more crucial to the plot of The Devil Made Me Do It than at its climax, when Ed finds himself under the dark influence of the film's main baddie, an occultist (Eugenie Bondurant) whose main motive, most disturbingly, seems to just be to cause chaos, mayhem, and terror wherever she can — on whichever innocent souls are unlucky enough to cross her path. In the height of her strange spell, Ed charges through her subterranean lair looking every ounce like The Shining's Jack Torrance, right down to chasing his own wife with a weapon in his hands. But the difference between the two horror husbands is what happens next: Lorraine is able to get through to Ed by reminding him of the power of the love they share, love that is strong enough to overcome any evil. The spell thus broken, Ed wields his strength to destroy the occultist's altar instead, preventing her from finalizing her malevolent plan to destroy Arne Johnson (Ruairi O'Connor), and husband and wife look on as Hell arrives to claim a different soul from the occultist herself, right down to some gnarly limb-breaking and neck-snapping moves.

Ultimately, the ones who have to do the most work to sell us on this dynamic are Wilson and Farmiga themselves, and they're hands-down what gives the relationship both its credibility and its sincerity on-screen. Wilson's Ed Warren is the quintessential Wife Guy, whose devotion to Lorraine — as well as his unwavering belief in her clairvoyant abilities — is never cast into doubt. Farmiga's Lorraine, on the other hand, provides a warm and quiet counterpoint to Ed's more assertive personality. Their marriage is one whose foundation is built firmly on a dynamic of faith — both in their God, and in one another — and what's more, it represents an unshakeable force throughout the films. Even as others find themselves the target of strange occurrences that are often beyond their own understanding, the Warrens themselves never waver in presenting themselves as a united front.

Where other horror movies might veer more towards that late-stage twist that calls the fates of everyone we've come to know into question before a cut-to-black, the Conjuring films want to give us the assurance that, at the end of the day, the Warrens are going to handle this shit together. There's a reason that the final shot of The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It isn't one of a terrifying demon's face contorted into a rictus, or a hand seizing out from underneath a bed to drag an unsuspecting person into the darkness, but the reveal of a newly-built gazebo that Ed's just constructed for the woman he loves in their backyard — and the deeply swoony kiss they share afterward. Closing the film on a happy ending for all doesn't negate the terror that has been endured to get to this point, and it doesn't mean there won't be more supernatural uncertainties in the future, but there's something remarkably optimistic about what this horror franchise is doing and the note of hope it tries to leave us with by the time the credits roll. In fact, maybe the greatest trick the Conjuring movies ever pulled on us was the love story at their heart, one that keeps audiences coming back again and again.