My dear readers, though many of my grand domestic designs have quickly withered in the execution phase, I am pleased to announce that I have officially begun renovations on a room that has been badly wanting some aesthetic attention. The room in question was once occupied by Horatio Hauntedhouse, an ancestor of mine who, above all things, was known for his discretion. But even my familiarity with his secretive nature could not have prepared me for the number of literal skeletons we have excavated from his closet and given his thorough nature, I suspect we shall find less idiomatic remains in the walls and floorboards. Though it is a surprise that will extend the life of this particular chore well beyond what I had intended, I must admit I find it refreshing to take on a long term project every once in a while.

I would venture that Sophia (Catherine Walker) shares this sentiment. Sophia has recently lost her son and after a brief stint in a facility dedicated to psychiatric convalescence, she has determined that traditionally prescribed means of coping simply won’t suffice. The only path she sees to catharsis is speaking directly with her deceased child and while this desire might not be practical for most grieving parents, Sophia is a rather determined young woman, unafraid of unconventional methods and extensive commitments. And so she embarks on a grueling six-month ritual, a tedious and exhausting purification process involving inscriptions, confinement and deprivation, in the hopes of summoning an angel to do her bidding.

This serious burden on her social calendar also requires round-the-clock assistance from an expert and so she hires Joseph Solomon (Steve Oram), a mostly unpleasant chap who doesn’t mind lording his occult superiority over a “posh” woman like Sophia. He quickly asserts himself as a gruff combination of tutor and jailor and exhibits little patience for hesitation when it comes to, say, quaffing a pint of human blood in pursuit of one’s mystical goals. Under his direction the ritual does have some visible effect but it is difficult to tell as time goes on and on if it is the intended one, particularly when Sophia’s reasons for pestering divine beings become a bit muddled.

While I feel it is essential that I mention my shamefully subjective preference for films where the bulk of the end credits are dedicated to the performers playing demons, I still feel as though A Dark Song possesses merits beyond the celestial imbalance in the film’s cast list. Writer and director Liam Gavin has mounted an excruciating exercise in restraint and while spectacle-driven moviegoers may have to seek their satisfaction elsewhere, the film proves to be no less dread-inducing for employing a spot of subtlety here and there. Though it eventually indulges in a bit of well-earned splendor, the bulk of the movie squeezes by with only the barest whiffs of the supernatural. Much like summoning an angel with nothing but chalk and starvation, A Dark Song is impressive in how great an effect it produces with so very little.

A Dark Song runs 100 minutes and does not possess a certified rating in the United States.