Review ‘[REC] 2 (2009)’ Solid Follow Up to a Modern Classic

[REC] 2 begins where the first opus ended and we follow the actions of a Spanish police intervention group who, with the help of an envoy from the Ministry of Interior (who we soon learn is in fact a priest sent by the Vatican), try to put some order into this mess. Their main mission will be to recover a blood sample to make an antidote to the virus before it escapes from the building and contaminates the outside world.

As often, very often even, the direct sequels of a successful film are a disappointment, this one is unfortunately no exception to the rule. Jaume Balaguero and Paco Plaza, after having offered us an intense immersive spectacle with their “REC” (relentless immersion in the cinema, but much less formidable on a small screen) unfortunately plays the card of overkill.
More camera, more action, more blood, more characters, more overlapping stories, more references to first person video games, more everything.
And as often, the overkill leads to an overflow that quickly becomes roborative with “parkinsonian” camera movements making the numerous (too many? numerous) action scenes totally unreadable.
It’s not easy to make a sequel, but we really expected something better from these two directors than a hysterical copy-paste of the initial film with the addition of a whole bunch of major works of horror cinema.
Of course, not everything is to be thrown away with Grandma, especially the last twenty minutes which, once the camera is a little more settled, obviously shows the potential that this sequel could have had.
But let’s see it in detail, if you will and with your hearty applause.

Where “REC” took its time to lay the foundations of its plot via the report of a local TV station accompanying firemen in their missions and thus giving time to adapt to the first person camera and especially by giving a thickness to the characters before unleashing hell, REC 2 goes straight to the outrageousness and the heavy action.
There is no time to say “wow” before the “infected” attack and the camera, which is supposed to show us the action in real time, starts to shake, sway, gesticulate, flutter, vibrate, flutter (with a leg, it’s so much better), move and shake in all directions. And this will not stop for more than an hour, giving more the impression of being on a roller coaster than in front of a movie.
Of course, this was already the case in the first opus, but the breaks were numerous, the plot more subtle, the mystery thicker, the dialogues more coherent.
Like a backlash, the fact of wanting to propose a way of filming supposed to reinforce even more the immersion of the spectator and the reality of the facts, makes all this totally unreadable and really tiring not for the nerves, but for the eyes.
Boredom quickly sets in and one wonders what the make-up is for, as it is barely discernible during the first hour.
Perhaps we reach here the limits of the first person rendering? A little bit can give realism without any problem, too much gives a headache and makes all this quite vain.

If one can get past the particular technique of staging (which after all may please some) without having regurgitated his or her food, one can be interested in the plot itself.
A mishmash of concepts borrowed from works such as “Aliens”, “Evil Dead”, or “The Exorcist”, added with strings as big as the moorings of a Norman boat which obviously have no other purpose than to dynamize the plot by multiplying the twists and turns and the points of view.
Except that this is big, very big, so big that it is hard to believe.
Balaguero and Plaza, after having given in to a visual overkill reducing almost to nothing any anguish, give in to the most confusing scenaristic ease by completely demystifying what was one of the strengths of the first opus, namely the mystery of the monster in the attic and of the appearance of the virus.
How many times does the priest character claim that finding this or that person or object is their last chance? Four, five, six?

How can we believe that a bunch of young “morons” can manage to get into a building guarded by the largest concentration of law enforcement since the Spanish Civil War?
How can we give credence to this story of possession, which seems to be one of the magic tricks of an elementary school child that we hardly believe?
How to justify that the end of the story is devoted to the use of an infrared camera? Wouldn’t the police have one?
All this for a film, which, let’s not forget, is an apostle of a certain form of realism in the first person, it still looks bad.