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Chris
MacNeill (Ellen Burstyn) is an actress filming a movie in Georgetown,
the tony section of Washington DC. Her young daughter, Regan
(Linda Blair), begins exhibiting strange behavioral symptoms
but nobody is able to figure out what the problem is. The little
girl claims to be possessed by a demon, and the skeptical mother,
in a state of hysteria, calls in a priest (Jason Miller) to
investigate the matter further...
Upon its release in
1973, William Friedkin's Oscar-nominated film of The
Exorcist created a scandal that seems inconceivable in
our modern, jaded climate. Adapted from William Peter Blatty's
best-selling novel, Friedkin's film touched on deep-rooted religious
fears and shocked viewers with its graphic depiction of demonic
possession. Perhaps it was the image of apple-cheeked Linda
Blair spewing profanity and masturbating with a crucifix that
touched the nerves of viewers who never batted an eye at something
so mundane as George Romero's zombies or the monsters of Universal
and Hammer. An instant box office smash, the film became as
controversial as it was critically lauded. Nominated for Best
Picture, Best Director, Best Actress and a handful of other
Academy Awards, it thus eclipsed such 'major' horror films as
Roman Polanski's superior Rosemary's Baby
(1968) in terms of critical accolades. Viewed today, one may
wonder what the fuss was all about. It's not uncommon for younger
viewers to laugh at it outright, though for many it retains
a power to shock and chill. Speaking from personal experience,
I have to confess to never finding the film particularly scary,
but its merits as a film should be obvious.
Friedkin, in 1973,
was a director on a roll, moving from one excellent picture
to the next — this was before his underrated remake of Henri-Georges
Clouzot's Wages of Fear, Sorcerer,
and his grotesquely misunderstood gay serial killer opus Cruising
derailed his prominence in the film industry and sent him scurrying
for cover. This film sees him at the top of his form, using
his predilection for subliminal edits and aggressive, unfussy
camerawork to perfection. More unsettling than the displays
of demonic possession is a disquieting, eerie montage that shows
the viewers the paranoid dreamscape of the tormented Father
Karras (Jason Miller). The actual demonic possession angle is
forcefully realized and so well known at this point that any
recap would be pointless... Suffice it to say, Friedkin's imagery
had such impact on moviegoers and filmmakers that a steady slew
of imitations would flood forth in the ensuing years. Among
other things, The Exorcist boasts
one of the finest casts ever assembled for a horror film. Ellen
Burstyn is superb as the initially bitchy mother who undergoes
a breakdown as her daughter's behavior spins out of control;
it's not the most glamorous role in the world, but Burstyn plays
it to perfection. Swedish actor Max Von Sydow, something of
an icon due to his work with Ingmar Bergman, is perfection itself
as the haunted Father Merrin, the exorcist. Von Sydow, then
in his 40s, is miraculously (and convincingly) made to resemble
a much older man through the brilliant makeup work of Dick Smith.
The venerable actor brings with him his 'luggage' as a spiritual
character in Bergman's filmography and delivers a flawless performance
that is both authoritative and subtly moving. Jason Miller,
an acclaimed playwright and first-time actor, steals the film
as the tormented Father Karras, while legendary character actor
Lee J. Cobb (On The Waterfront,
12 Angry Men) steals a few scenes
as the intrepid Lieutenant Kinderman. Irish character actor
Jack MacGowran is hysterical as the drunken director Burke Dennings;
alas, this was the Polanski veteran's last film — he died from
complications of London Flu not long after finishing his scenes.
(This was one of many incidents that led to rumors of an Exorcist
'curse'.)
With its stark cinematography,
incredible sound mix and music score and brilliant editing,
The Exorcist is very good filmmaking
indeed. Despite its obvious merits, the original director's
cut of the film caused something of a rift between Friedkin
and writer/producer William Peter Blatty. Blatty, who felt Friedkin's
cut seemed too downbeat ("I didn't want the audience to think
the devil won..."), long spoke of valuable material that had
been cut in interviews and in 2000, he was finally able to present
his preferred cut to the public. The differences between the
two cuts have been noted, debated and discussed to death by
this point, leaving the question: which version works better?
I can only answer that, while I felt Friedkin's cut was a solid
film, I found myself far more affected by the "version I never
saw." It restores some valuable character bits, notably fleshing
out Von Sydow's performance and allowing him to express something
of a human side. The new cut is not perfect — regretfully, the
new technology allowed Blatty and Friedkin to insert subliminal
digital effects which draw too much attention to themselves
and the reinsertion of the infamous "spider walk" feels too
much like a cheap scare, effective enough on its own terms but
somehow tacky in so stately a film.
Pockmarks aside,
the 2000 cut strikes me as a stronger presentation as a whole,
thus securing its place among the greatest horror films of all
time.
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