Hankies are not scary. Nor, come to think of it, are little old ladies, flies, false teeth or leaves blowing in the wind. So why, in Sam Raimi's trashy horror comeback, are they as terrifying as the prospect of being dragged to hell?

The answer's as simple as the film itself. Forsaking slick visual effects and gratuitous gore, the writer-director simply taps into our genetic predisposition for pants-wetting when unexpectedly shocked or surprised.

Using classic scare tactics — extreme close-ups, tight camera angles, loud bangs and squawky violin music, sudden movements just out of sight — Raimi builds tension masterfully, shatters it suddenly with some crude humour, and starts again.

And clearly relishing his return to the cheap-and-nasty underworld of latex masks and dyed-corn-syrup-as-blood, the creator of '80s cult favourite 'The Evil Dead' makes it all look so easy.

The story's rudimentary — loan officer refuses a mortgage extension to old gypsy woman; old gypsy woman puts a curse on her — but that just gives the man who spent the last decade ensnared by the 'Spiderman' franchise more room to play.

So flies are coughed up at the dinner table, a nosebleed rivals a fire hydrant for spray intensity, desperate but macabre sacrifices are made, and a savage bite attack in a dimly-lit parking lot becomes a frenzied gumming incident in the backseat of a car.

As the plaything of his devilishly twisted mind and last-minute replacement for Ellen 'Juno' Page, Alison Lohman is suitably shit-scared before revealing some rewarding resilience.

Justin Long is equally suited to the part of her initially sceptical and ultimately powerless boyfriend. And Lorna Raver cranks up the creepiness as the cause of all the trouble, Mrs. Ganush.

But Raimi, dragging up all the scares and hellishly low budget schlock promised by the title, is the real star here — possessed hankies and all.

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