Released in 2014 and directed by John R. Leonetti, Annabelle serves as a prequel spin-off to James Wan’s highly successful The Conjuring (2013). While the earlier film introduced the real-life Warrens and the infamous Raggedy Ann doll, Annabelle expands the mythology by exploring the doll’s origin. The film shifts focus from supernatural investigators to an ordinary young couple, John and Mia Form, situating demonic horror within the mundane setting of a 1960s Santa Monica apartment complex. This paper argues that Annabelle functions not merely as a ghost story, but as a visual allegory for postpartum anxiety, the fear of failed motherhood, and the vulnerability of the nuclear family.
The film rejects exorcism as a solution. Instead, it follows a theological logic (consistent with The Conjuring universe) that love —specifically willing sacrifice—neutralizes evil. Mia offering her soul to save Leah is an echo of Christian atonement. Similarly, Evelyn sacrifices herself for Mia and Leah, demonstrating that non-biological maternal love holds equal power. The demon cannot force a willing soul to be damned; it can only take what is offered in fear or bargaining.
The film opens in 1967, where John gives his pregnant wife, Mia, a rare collector’s doll. After a neighboring cult couple, the Annabelle Higgins and her companion, violently invade the Form home, they are both killed by police. However, the male cultist smears Mia’s blood on the doll before dying. Following the attack, Mia gives birth to a daughter, Leah. Strange and increasingly violent supernatural occurrences begin plaguing the family. They learn from a bookstore owner (and later a priest, Father Perez) that a demonic entity named Malthus is attached to the doll, not the spirit of Annabelle Higgins. The demon seeks a human soul, specifically Mia’s, and escalates its attacks to claim it. In the climax, Mia sacrifices herself to save Leah, but Father Perez intervenes. The doll is ultimately contained, only to be revealed in the final scene as having been purchased by a young nurse (setting up The Conjuring ).
The Evil Next Door: Materializing Maternal Anxiety in John R. Leonetti’s Annabelle (2014)
Unlike gothic castles or abandoned asylums, Annabelle weaponizes the domestic space. The elevator, the nursery, the basement laundry room—all sites of everyday safety become thresholds for demonic intrusion. The film draws on post-WWII American anxieties about suburbia, suggesting that evil is not outside the home but invited in through human grief and obsession (the cultists, Mia’s attachment to the doll). The demonic signature—a red, forked thread—visually corrupts the seamstress’s craft, turning creation into binding and imprisonment.
The film’s timeline is critical: the demonic activity intensifies after Leah is born. Mia is shown alone, exhausted, unable to sleep, and terrified of harming her baby. The doll—an innocent object turned malevolent—mirrors how postpartum anxiety can distort a new mother’s perception of her home and herself. The demon’s goal is to claim Mia’s soul, akin to the way severe maternal depression can consume a woman’s identity. Mia’s final act of willing self-sacrifice reframes this: she reclaims agency by choosing to die for her child, transforming the anxiety into a redemptive maternal heroism.
Released in 2014 and directed by John R. Leonetti, Annabelle serves as a prequel spin-off to James Wan’s highly successful The Conjuring (2013). While the earlier film introduced the real-life Warrens and the infamous Raggedy Ann doll, Annabelle expands the mythology by exploring the doll’s origin. The film shifts focus from supernatural investigators to an ordinary young couple, John and Mia Form, situating demonic horror within the mundane setting of a 1960s Santa Monica apartment complex. This paper argues that Annabelle functions not merely as a ghost story, but as a visual allegory for postpartum anxiety, the fear of failed motherhood, and the vulnerability of the nuclear family.
The film rejects exorcism as a solution. Instead, it follows a theological logic (consistent with The Conjuring universe) that love —specifically willing sacrifice—neutralizes evil. Mia offering her soul to save Leah is an echo of Christian atonement. Similarly, Evelyn sacrifices herself for Mia and Leah, demonstrating that non-biological maternal love holds equal power. The demon cannot force a willing soul to be damned; it can only take what is offered in fear or bargaining. film annabelle 1
The film opens in 1967, where John gives his pregnant wife, Mia, a rare collector’s doll. After a neighboring cult couple, the Annabelle Higgins and her companion, violently invade the Form home, they are both killed by police. However, the male cultist smears Mia’s blood on the doll before dying. Following the attack, Mia gives birth to a daughter, Leah. Strange and increasingly violent supernatural occurrences begin plaguing the family. They learn from a bookstore owner (and later a priest, Father Perez) that a demonic entity named Malthus is attached to the doll, not the spirit of Annabelle Higgins. The demon seeks a human soul, specifically Mia’s, and escalates its attacks to claim it. In the climax, Mia sacrifices herself to save Leah, but Father Perez intervenes. The doll is ultimately contained, only to be revealed in the final scene as having been purchased by a young nurse (setting up The Conjuring ). Released in 2014 and directed by John R
The Evil Next Door: Materializing Maternal Anxiety in John R. Leonetti’s Annabelle (2014) The film shifts focus from supernatural investigators to
Unlike gothic castles or abandoned asylums, Annabelle weaponizes the domestic space. The elevator, the nursery, the basement laundry room—all sites of everyday safety become thresholds for demonic intrusion. The film draws on post-WWII American anxieties about suburbia, suggesting that evil is not outside the home but invited in through human grief and obsession (the cultists, Mia’s attachment to the doll). The demonic signature—a red, forked thread—visually corrupts the seamstress’s craft, turning creation into binding and imprisonment.
The film’s timeline is critical: the demonic activity intensifies after Leah is born. Mia is shown alone, exhausted, unable to sleep, and terrified of harming her baby. The doll—an innocent object turned malevolent—mirrors how postpartum anxiety can distort a new mother’s perception of her home and herself. The demon’s goal is to claim Mia’s soul, akin to the way severe maternal depression can consume a woman’s identity. Mia’s final act of willing self-sacrifice reframes this: she reclaims agency by choosing to die for her child, transforming the anxiety into a redemptive maternal heroism.