The Exorcist (1973)

 

Director: William Friedkin

Stars: Ellen Burstyn, Max von Sydow, Linda Blair, Jason Miller

Short Review, no spoilers

Shocking horror classic - banned on video in the UK from 1984 until 1998 - in which a young girl in modern day Washington becomes the victim of demonic possession and must undergo an exorcism.

Full Review (spoilers)

Over the decades, The Exorcist has been variously met with shock, disgust, applause, dismissal, and adoration, with its banning from video release by the BBFC in 1984 only adding to its notoriety. Perhaps one of the most fascinating things about the film is that it has been different things to different people at different times, shifting mercurially in people’s perceptions much like the demon at the centre of the story. In the wake of the original release of the film, the church condemned it, audience members fainted, and others ran out in terror. Following the lifting of the video ban in 1998 and subsequent re-release, there was much hype, including a celebration by Mark Kermode, who has always lauded it as his favourite film of all time. In fact, the hype probably inadvertently contributed to many of the reactions which were much less reverent, greeted as the film was by ‘how many killings’ types who were unimpressed by what was seen as dated special effects, and a film that works as hard on atmosphere and a sense of dread as the icky, pukey, head-twisting bits. Neither reactions do justice to what is in fact a complex and beautifully filmed work of art, which evolves every time you see it, and lends itself to multiple interpretations.

The Exorcist is a genuinely frightening film for less headline-grabbing reasons as well as for the overtly graphic horror that caused all the initial kerfuffle. The tension builds gradually and innocuously, complemented by the naturalistic acting and the scene-setting of a very grounded presentation of reality; although Regan’s mother is a Hollywood actress filming her latest in Washington, there is a high degree of authenticity which holds in perspective the more commonly advertised glamour of movie stars. It also serves to render the supernatural elements of the drama and Regan’s extreme behaviour that much more powerful, upsetting so drastically as it does an otherwise relatively serene and quite ordinary equilibrium. The film is balanced by creepy, unnerving sequences as well as the alarming scenes of Regan’s horrifying behaviour: an unsettling, abstract fear is built in the opening scenes, as Father Merrin unearths archaic deities in Morocco; the introduction of ‘Captain Howdy’ in Regan’s casual use of the Ouiija board; her mother Chris’ investigation of weird noises in the attic; Regan’s deadpan threat and urination in front of her mother’s party guests; her various ominous utterings and the revelation that she is speaking backwards; the almost subliminal flash of a demonic face in Father Karras’ nightmare; the description of Burke Jennings’ unseen violent death as described by Detective Kinderman; and the clouds of breath in Regan’s deathly cold bedroom when she has succumbed to the demon and awaits exorcism.

As for the more overt horror imagery, Regan’s transformation from sweet, cute young girl in to a grotesquely deformed, rasping monster remains as horrifying and perversely fun to watch as ever. There is undeniable feminist joy in witnessing a once good girl approaching a not insignificantly pubescent age in the messiest, angriest way ever, reacting to the pokes and prods of various male authority figures by grabbing their balls, puking in their faces and tossing out verbal obscenities with the purest, most unfettered rage and velocity. In 1993, Barbara Creed wrote excellently on this subject (amongst others concerning horror and ‘the monstrous-feminine’), identifying Regan’s physical and behavioural abjection as a spectacular resistance to female propriety and, at a deeper psychic level, the patriarchal order itself. She also points out that although a kind of equilibrium is restored at the end, the two male priests have died in the process, and mother and daughter are reunited in what is actually something of a symbolically incestuous relationship.

In a completely different reading, albeit one much less juicily Freudian, it struck me recently as also rather tragic. Seeing Chris’ face, fraught with worry and helplessness at her daughter’s increasingly out-of-character behaviour, and Regan’s visible pain, fear and discomfort at the hands of clueless doctors resonates with the dreadful reality many endure in the course of being diagnosed and treated for mental illness, including children and their parents. It also calls to mind the medieval quackery involved as, throughout history, various types of ‘physician’ have floundered around the human body, trying to find answers to its physical and psychological mysteries. The clash of the ancient and the modern in The Exorcist exploits the tension between the imaginings of contemporary society as civilised, scientific and certain, and those of the past that are mired in barbarism, spirituality and the ignorant meddlings of experimentalists, leading to the awkward question of how much further along we really are.

Whatever it does for you, The Exorcist is undoubtedly an unforgettable film that’s different every time you return to it, and deservedly an iconic classic of the horror genre.