Michael Chaves doesn't "suck" because he's incompetent. He sucks because he represents everything corporate horror has become: risk-averse, over-reliant on IP, and terrified of silence. His films aren't crafted—they're assembled. And in a genre built on atmosphere, that's the real curse.

With three entries in the Conjuring universe and a résumé of recycled jump scares, director Michael Chaves has become a symbol of franchise horror at its most uninspired.

Chaves took a character with genuine iconographic power—Valak—and drowned her in exposition, murky lighting, and a school-setting retread that offered zero innovation. The scares aren't earned; they're scheduled. Every quiet moment exists only to count down to another loud noise and a pale face with black eyes. It's horror by checklist.