Wednesday, January 3, 2024

The Exorcist (1973)

 

I promise I’ll get to the exorcism that is the heart of The Exorcist. I will. It’s just that most people only seem to remember that part of the film and neglect all of the stories that precede it, and those stories are very significant to the plot. They reveal a series of disruptions in the lives of the four characters who will face off against a demon who has possessed a young teenaged girl. It’s not just the possession and the exorcism that warrant attention, however, and the screenwriter, William Peter Blatty, won the Oscar for adapting his own novel into the screenplay, and he had some sense that we needed to know about the major characters rather than immediately going to the process of getting rid of the demon. Motivation can matter.

Take, for example, the character who actually opens the film, Father Lankester Merrin (the great Max von Sydow, whose face conveys such a world weariness). He’s an archaeologist/priest who’s at a dig in Iraq when he discovers an unusual object. He’s very old and has a heart condition, and it’s probably not the best of ideas to have him puttering around with stuff that might have been associated with an ancient demon, a demon that appears to him in a vision, by the way, that should scare him away from having anything to do with such creatures.

Jason Miller plays another priest, Father Damian Karras, who’s a psychiatrist as well as a priest. (Did all priests have to have two jobs back then?) He’s based in Georgetown, where he counsels others in the priesthood, but his heart and his mind are with his mother in New York. She died there, and he feels as though he’s abandoned her. He confides to another priest that he’s started to question his faith, but his belief in Catholicism will be shaken even more later in the film. Miller has a sort of world-weariness to his face as well, but it’s undercut by the deep sadness his character has over his mother’s death.

The central plot mostly revolves around Chris MacNeil, an actress working on a film in Georgetown, and her daughter, Regan, who’s accompanying her mother after her parents have split up. Ellen Burstyn plays Chris, who is very focused at the start of the film on her performance. We see a couple of moments of her preparation for a sequence that’s being shot on the campus, and it shows us how attentive she is to the details of the character she’s portraying. Burstyn exhibits that same kind of intensity throughout the film, as she starts to realize that her daughter has become possessed. The Worried Mother can be just another cliché when it’s in less capable hands than Burstyn’s, but she manages to remain memorable even when the primary focus is on her daughter.

The daughter, played by Linda Blair, who was just 13 years old when the filming of The Exorcist began, undergoes a series of odd changes. She can’t seem to control what is happening to her, and her mother, with the best of intentions, seeks out medical advice to treat the young girl. There are scenes involving medical procedures that, for me, are just as horrifying as what happens during the exorcism, and they are just as graphic as what happens during the exorcism. Blair has to endure a great deal in this film; it can’t be easy to convey a sense of possession, especially when you’re coated in hideous makeup and tossed around a room like a doll. It’s a very physical performance, and how she managed to survive all of the crazy stuff that happens to her character is a marvel.

I’ve never been completely certain as to how Regan became possessed. It seems to be the fault of a Ouija board, but it does seem odd that a demon would call itself Captain Howdy and then become so intensely violent and vicious in its possession. Yes, I do understand that the demon is trying to confuse Regan with its non-threatening name; I’m not that dense. It’s just that the change is somewhat abrupt. Then again, we need to suspend our disbelief in order to accept that Regan has become possessed anyway, so why not allow it to be the result of contact by Ouija? Much of what audiences remember is the escalating series of issues Regan faces, resulting in the death of Chris’ director. Regan’s room is cold, she begins speaking in voices, odd writing appears on her stomach, so many memorable moments. Father Karras witnesses many of these events, but it takes a while for him to accept that the girl has become possessed. Again, his own questions about faith lead him to be a reluctant counselor.

Eventually, Father Karras and Chris agree to summon an exorcist, and who should it be but Father Merrin, the aged priest from the beginning of the film. All of the stories converge when he arrives at the home and begins his preparations for the exorcism. Father Merrin will confront a demon in the body of a young girl, Father Karras will need to draw upon his remaining faith in order to believe that the demon can be exorcised, Chris will have to remain strong (no easy feat) while hearing all of the noise that the exorcism generates and the pain that her daughter feels, and poor Regan herself will have to survive everything that happens to her. It’s four people going through a rigorous form of torment.

The possession itself does not take up the largest portion of the film, but the sequences in Regan’s bedroom are undoubtedly the highlight. You can’t watch someone’s head turn all the way around without feeling stunned, and you can’t see the green vomit coming from Regan’s mouth with feeling repulsed. The demon’s cursing in many languages (glossolalia, a term you seldom see these days) and its personal attacks on Father Merrin and Father Karras still have the power to shock all of these decades later, and watching Regan’s body float above the bed as the two priests try to compel the demon to leave the girl? Wow! Those special effects are still powerful. Why weren’t the special effects in this movie even nominated? No award was given in the category that year, but surely what the filmmakers achieved here was worthy of recognition.

The Exorcist is exceptional filmmaking on many levels. The acting is superb, the script (again, adapted by the author of the novel on which it was based) keeps the tension mounting, and the cinematography is spectacular. I was only 10 when the film was released and, therefore, was not allowed to see it. When it was first shown on television, it came with warnings about the intensity of the images, no doubt a response to all of the fainting that allegedly took place during the theatrical release. Now, of course, films that attempt to shock us have made this film from 1973 seem tame by comparison in terms of the horror being depicted, but what continues to resonate are the performances by the four lead actors, each of them grappling with their own issues while trying to do what seems impossible. That’s why it remains an influential movie.

Oscar Wins: Best Screenplay Based on Material from Another Medium and Best Sound

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Picture, Best Director (William Friedkin), Best Actress in a Leading Role (Ellen Burstyn), Best Actor in a Supporting Role (Jason Miller), Best Actress in a Supporting Role (Linda Blair), Best Cinematography, Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, and Best Film Editing

Underworld (1927-28)

 

Underworld is a film about jealousy and rivalry and redemption, all couched within the tale of the world of gangsters in Chicago. By the way, it’s not one of the films within the more recent series about a war between vampires and werewolves that, astonishingly, already has five episodes! No, this 1927 film with the same title tells the story of the weirdly nicknamed “Bull” Weed, who fancies himself the king of the underworld. He faces off against his rival, the also strangely nicknamed “Buck” Mulligan, who always wears a flower in his lapel from his florist shop. Bull rescues an alcoholic former lawyer from being ridiculed by Buck, and the lawyer, nicknamed “Rolls Royce,” sobers up and starts helping Bull in his campaign to take control of the city. In case you don’t think there are enough silly nicknames yet, meet Bull’s girlfriend, “Feathers,” who always has some feathers attached to some part of her wardrobe. I suppose it’s an easy way to remember a character, but there aren’t truly all that many that you’d need to recall in order to follow the plot. Bull (played with scenery chewing intensity by George Bancroft) gets convicted of murdering Buck for trying to assault Feathers, and while he’s in prison waiting for his execution, Feathers (the lovely and understated Evelyn Brent) and Rolls Royce (the suave and handsome Clive Brook) become romantically involved. This, despite, Rolls Royce’s assertion to her that “I’m not interested in women,” a claim he seems to back up by having quite a few affectations that are rather clearly coded as being gay at the time. Lots of accusations of infidelity and betrayal follow, but the ending is almost pure Hollywood and, frankly, a bit of a letdown after what has transpired in the 80 minutes or so of the film. Underworld features the beautiful cinematography that’s become associated with the movies of director Josef von Sternberg. He was masterful at using close-ups and two shots, a talent he would use to great effect in his films with the luminous Marlene Dietrich. One montage in this early gangster film shows a series of faces of drunken revelers at the criminals’ annual ball, a strange event indeed, and we get a brief glimpse into the psyche of each participant on the screen. The closeups of the three leads (Bancroft, Brent, and Brook) also give each of them moments to shine even though they do seem to embody rather different acting styles. Movies like Underworld helped to create the template for later gangster films, and you can see echoes of its influence all the way through to the film noir of the 1940s and 1950s.

Oscar Win: Best Original Story