I did something scary last night. I went to see Paranormal Activity in a cinema full of teenagers on a Friday night. Yes, I know I was stupid — but we’ll come onto that. First, let’s look at the film itself.

Like many, I’ve been aware of the film for some time, and knew the story behind the story: Israeli filmmaker creates ultra low-budget horror movie restricted to a home location and four actors, fails to attract professional interest initially, but when he does scores a gazillion dollar hit. Congratulations, Oren Peli.

Using the found footage conceit of Blair Witch Project and Cloverfield, the story features a young couple, the tech geek male half of which buys a fancy-ass camera to record the weird stuff his student girlfriend claims has been happening around the house. For him, it’s a bit of fun alongside all the other techno toys he plays with. For her, matters are more serious — this isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and it seems linked to her rather than the house.

That simple dynamic between the couple informs much of what transpires, as spooky shit does indeed happen and tensions raise between him and her. Not rocket science, but when it’s performed in an impeccably naturalistic style by actors who don’t look like Hollywood’s typical buffed and shiny types, it has an air of credibility that’s critical to the film’s success.

What was interesting was the response of a lively young audience to all this. Which broadly broke down into how girls responded, and what boys did. I was…fortunate enough…to sit between groups of each. For the girls, the film was a communal experience — they asked each other if certain bits they’d heard about were about to happen and said they’d hold hands when they did. For boys, it was more of a rite of passage — prove you’re not scared by the film by making comments which establish you as the funniest in your group…or indeed, the whole cinema.

I’d forgotten how crass teenage boys can be, and a lot of their comments were crude and misogynistic, inviting the female actor to show her breasts and making suggestions as to the bedroom antics of the characters. Since they spent much of the time in the bedroom at night, this meant ample opportunity for the actors to be coached in sexual technique by 14 year old lads. No wonder, I realised, that teenage girls are flocking to Twilight: New Moon, in which young women are wooed by emo vampires and handsome werewolves: Britain’s teenage boys might be devils, but they’re not silver-tongued.

The cinema did quiet down when tension rose in many cases, demonstrating the power of timeless techniques to captivate attention. And Peli did at least one original and clever thing that showed a smart understanding of the horror genre and how to subvert it. Normally in films of this type, there is an expert who comprehends the nature of the evil at hand, and passes on that knowledge to the protagonist, who has to to do whatever themselves because of the tendency of the expert to die before they get the the chance to do their thing.

In this case, the expert — a professor — appears early in the film, to establish that it’s likely a demon behind what’s going on. And comes back later, when things have got out of hand. At which point, the prof hightails it from the house because he’s so scared. It’s a simple but brilliant move establishing just how dismal things are looking for the protagonists.

That said, it’s also a sneaky way of setting up a sequel. The expert alluded to an even greater expert who would be able to come in a few days and give the pesky demon some exorcise, but the film ends before that comes about. And leaves open the distinct possibility of that alpha expert getting involved in the next part of what could become a franchise. I don’t need to resort to occult tools to indicate the likelihood of this occurrence: cold hard cash points to its inevitability.