“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” mom (DeWitt) tells sensitive youngster, Griffin (Kyle Catlett).

Well, that’s alright then. So there’s no need to feed the antiquated clown dolls with the maniacal laugh that roam around the bedroom at right? And there’s nay bother about the ooze and dead bodies seeping up through the cellar floor? And it’s perfectly normal that the youngest family member starts communicating with the other side?

Phew. We can all go home. No, really. We can.

In common with most horror reboots, this classy swede drafts in a promising director (City of Ember's Gil Kenan) and respectable character actors (Rockwell et al). And in common with most horror reboots, it passes the time without delivering a single scare, and replaces 1980s-brand largesse with po-faced naturalism.

Much has been written regarding the authorship of the 1982 original, for despite the directorial input of Texas Chain Saw Massacre's Tobe Hooper, the picture was produced by Steven Spielberg and often plays like a visitation from ET's troubled, tearaway teen brother.

Barring a lilting performance by Jared Harris whose wannabe-Blavatsky fills the space once occupied by the late Zelda Rubinstein – a little woman with a huge screen presence – there is no trace of either Spielbergian sparkle or Hooperian hoopla about the 2015 remake. Iconic moments from the source are faithfully rendered and yet altered just enough to blanch all the joy out of them.

Occultists and conspiracy nuts point to the early, tragic deaths of stars Dominique Dunne and Heather O'Rourke, and tell us there was a curse on the original Poltergeist trilogy. One can't imagine that the Other Side will be bothered with this one.