The Call Is Coming from Inside the Plot Hole
Every horror movie has that one fatal flaw — the moment you realize it’s not the characters in danger, it’s you, the viewer, trapped for 90 minutes with no way out. In the case of Devil May Call (2013), that moment comes about seven minutes in, right after the premise is introduced and before anything remotely interesting happens.
Directed by Jason Cuadrado, this is a horror movie about a blind crisis hotline counselor being stalked by a serial killer — which sounds like a cool setup until you realize the film moves with the urgency of a dropped dial tone. It’s like Wait Until Dark had a baby with When a Stranger Calls, and that baby was left unattended in a pile of clichés.
And the worst part? It thinks it’s being deep.
The Setup: Crisis Hotline, Crisis Script
Our heroine, Sam (Corri English), is a blind counselor who works at a suicide hotline — which, in horror movie terms, basically makes her a beacon for bad things. She’s kind, compassionate, and totally unaware that one of her regular callers, John (Tyler Mane), is less “depressed man seeking guidance” and more “hulking serial killer with a rotary phone and attachment issues.”
Sam is leaving her job, which apparently sends John into a murderous spiral. His plan? To show up at the call center, cut the power, and slowly murder everyone in the building as punishment for her “betrayal.”
I’m not sure what’s more unrealistic — that a serial killer can track down a hotline worker that easily, or that a nonprofit crisis line has a skeleton crew working the night shift in a giant building with no security.
If you ever wondered what it would be like if The Call had been filmed entirely inside a beige office with a $25 lighting budget, this is your answer.
“Hello? This Is Boredom Calling.”
The first act is promising enough. There’s a decent setup — Sam training her replacement, Jess (Van Hansis), and bonding with her coworkers Val (Traci Lords, still trying to class up bad movies) and Jules (Tracy Perez). The film teases psychological tension and moral ambiguity: Sam’s empathy versus John’s obsession.
And then… nothing.
Once John arrives, the movie should shift gears into full survival horror. Instead, it shifts into slow-motion confusion. Characters wander around dark hallways whispering each other’s names like they’re trapped in an escape room designed by a sedated cat. The phone rings occasionally, because symbolism, I guess.
It’s one of those films where you can see every attempt at tension — the flickering lights, the thudding footsteps, the killer’s heavy breathing — but it all lands with the impact of a dropped paperclip.
When your slasher’s most menacing quality is “he probably doesn’t wash his hands,” you’ve got problems.
Tyler Mane: Big, Bad, and Boring
Let’s talk about the killer, because the movie sure doesn’t.
Tyler Mane (yes, the guy who played Michael Myers in Rob Zombie’s Halloween) has the physicality to be terrifying. He’s a human tank. But Devil May Call wastes him completely. Instead of letting him go full slasher-mode, the film tries to make him tragic.
Apparently, John isn’t just evil — he’s lonely. He found comfort in Sam’s voice. He feels “abandoned.” It’s like Misery, if Kathy Bates were replaced with an emotionally needy forklift.
Mane spends most of the movie grunting and lumbering through shadows, occasionally delivering lines like, “You were the only one who listened to me,” which sound less like a threat and more like something overheard in a bad Tinder date.
He’s not scary. He’s just… there. Like a men’s deodorant commercial that went terribly wrong.
Corri English: A Good Actress Lost in a Bad Connection
Corri English actually does her best as Sam, and to her credit, she gives the role more depth than it deserves. She plays blindness with authenticity and restraint — not as a gimmick, but as part of her character’s resilience. You root for her, even when the script seems determined to make her decisions as baffling as possible.
At one point, she hides from the killer by standing in the middle of a well-lit hallway. Later, she decides the safest move is to call for help… on a landline that’s already dead.
It’s not her fault; it’s the screenplay’s. This is a film that confuses “tension” with “people making bad choices in sequence.”
By the time Sam finally fights back, you’re less on the edge of your seat and more on the edge of turning off the TV.
Traci Lords: The MVP in a Lost Cause
Let’s give a quick shoutout to Traci Lords as Val, the manager of the hotline. Lords brings the only spark of energy in the film — she’s sassy, grounded, and clearly knows she’s in a low-budget thriller, so she decides to just have fun with it.
Unfortunately, the script gives her little to do besides deliver exposition and die heroically. Still, every time she’s onscreen, the movie temporarily wakes up from its coma.
When your biggest takeaway is “Traci Lords deserves a better horror film,” you know you’ve got issues.
The Real Killer: The Pacing
The problem with Devil May Call isn’t that it’s bad — it’s that it’s aggressively mediocre.
Everything moves at half speed. Every scene lasts three beats too long. You can practically hear the director whispering, “Okay, now… walk slower. No, slower than that.”
It’s a 90-minute movie that feels like it was edited in real time by someone trying to save on film stock.
And the scares? Predictable to the point of parody. There’s the “sudden hand on the shoulder” fake-out. The “dark hallway, flickering lights” gag. The “villain standing behind someone who turns around 15 seconds too late” routine. By the fourth time it happens, you’re not jumping — you’re checking your phone.
Horror by Numbers
What’s really maddening is that there was potential here. The idea of a blind protagonist facing a killer she can’t see could’ve made for a nerve-shredding thriller. Instead, the movie plays it safe — no creative sound design, no real suspense, just a lot of dimly lit corridors and heavy breathing.
Even the kill scenes are lazy. The camera cuts away before anything interesting happens, leaving you with an endless parade of reaction shots. It’s like a horror film made by someone who’s never seen one — but has read the Wikipedia summary of three.
The editing feels like it was done by committee, with everyone afraid to make a bold choice. “Should we show the murder?” “No, that’s too scary.” “Should we build tension?” “No, that’s too hard.”
The Devil May Call, But I’m Not Picking Up
By the time the climax rolls around — complete with a power outage, a heroic monologue, and a final confrontation that looks like two people wrestling over a flashlight — you’re beyond caring. The ending isn’t satisfying; it’s just merciful.
The killer’s motivations are muddled, the characters’ arcs fizzle, and any hint of psychological depth is buried under bland cinematography and bargain-bin music cues.
It’s a film that mistakes atmosphere for darkness, and character development for exposition. The result is a horror movie that’s technically competent but emotionally dead — like an overlong episode of Criminal Minds shot on a lunch break.
Final Verdict: A Dial Tone of Doom
Devil May Call isn’t a disaster. It’s something worse — forgettable. It’s the cinematic equivalent of getting stuck on hold while listening to elevator music composed by Satan’s least ambitious intern.
Corri English tries her best, Traci Lords adds some flair, and Tyler Mane looms large, but none of it connects. It’s a film that desperately wants to be tense, but ends up just… tense for you, because you’re wondering when it’ll end.
The only thing scary about this movie is the pacing.
Rating: 3 out of 10 disconnected calls.
Because sometimes, the devil doesn’t need to call — the boredom does it for him.
