The Black Phone, based on the short story by Joe Hill, tells the suspenseful story of The Grabber, a child killer who kidnaps teenage boys in broad daylight and never lets them see them again. The Grabber's former victims start calling Finney (Mason Thames), the next captive, through a disconnected landline when he is being held in a soundproof basement.

The movie has a retro aesthetic that calls to mind old images and the time of striped baby t-shirts, flared trousers, and The Ramones. The screen is flooded with warm browns and oranges, film grain, and filtered light. But the horror of Derrickson has tainted this picture-perfect suburb of the 1970s.

The vibrant blood and the neon of the police lights are the only deviations from the otherwise monotone color scheme, making these moments all the more startling. Rust and blood are used as paintbrush strokes to create an evidence mural of unrestrained violence on the basement's worn concrete walls. A vision of bloody knees and a stack of missing people posters is intercut with nostalgic B-roll of the idyllic everyday activities of suburban youth—popsicles, baseball games, and sunny avenues—during the opening credits of the movie.

The Black Phone is a story of support and tenacity that passes for a film about a semi-paranormal serial killer. "The Black Phone" excels at its core elements while letting its intricacies take the lead. It is supported by passionate performances from every actor and a powerful atmosphere. Character development takes priority over gore in the story, but the movie still manages to thrill viewers. Instead, your sympathy for Finney and the intensity of the movie's expertly produced suspense are what make you clutch your knees and bite your toes.