There's a moment, two thirds of the way through "The Descent", when we're told that the once-human creatures gradually eating our party of terrified cavers alive has evolved "perfectly" to live in darkness. Until that point, it's been a distinctly smart horror film, careful and deliberate in its attempts to build up a fiercely claustrophobic atmosphere and to draw portraits of its characters rather than merely send them to their inevitable doom.
But that moment tests your belief. Because these creatures haven't evolved perfectly. At all. They can't see, for a start. Or smell, apparently. And while we're told that they hear like bats, the scriptwriter should probably be grateful that bats don't have lawyers. In short, they're stupid enough to make this a fight that lasts longer than ten seconds.
So, what remains is much less sensible. But it's terrific nonetheless: a gruesome slaughter that barely gives you time, in the murky cavelight, to work out who's still alive. Crucially, though, some of that earlier groundwork pays off too: the conclusion has an emotional kick that makes it linger, and the entirety has a morbid, haunting quality beyond the undeniable dumb thrills.
Not a masterpiece, then. But "The Descent" succeeds where horror often fails: its essential coherence, even when it gets silly, pulls you through, drags you along. Makes you watch, even when you don't want to.
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