Posted: Sun Jun 05, 2011 4:15 am
The Exorcist (1973)
Like with Citizen Kane, 1973’s monumentally famous horror The Exorcist has a reputation that precedes it; many people label Kane as the greatest movie of all time, but personally I think that Kane is duelling it out with Fantasia, Psycho and Amadeus for number one spot. The Exorcist has been called the scariest movie of all time on countless occasions (even on some of the modern cover art for its home video releases), so naturally I expected to be scared witless and I would require a change of underwear every night for a week.
As it so happens, The Exorcist is not the scariest movie of all time; or at least I don’t think so. Because when it comes down to it, it’s all a matter of ‘Play it again, Sam’; people have passed it down wrong. I have no doubts in my mind that this caused people to even vomit back in 1973 (although one can wonder as this was released two years after the ultra-violent A Clockwork Orange), but nowadays it is something much more creepy and repulsive than inherently scary. That is not to say however, that The Exorcist isn’t a good movie. In fact, it’s a brilliant one.
It’s the story of a fairly happy-go-lucky actress and mother, Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn) and she is filled with happiness and also has a close friendship with her creative daughter Regan (Linda Blair); naturally (it is a horror after all), as a result she becomes traumatised, beaten and bruised by a dark incident that starts with seizures and what the mother claims are ‘just nerves.’ Regan possesses unnatural, adult strength and snarls blasphemous curses at her mother that would make a sailor blush. After several operations as well as visits from shrinks prove that there seems to be nothing mentally wrong with her, Regan starts masturbating with a cross before her head notoriously turns round a whole 360 degrees.
The desperate Chris, despite her unreligious nature, calls in a priest for assistance: Father Damien Karras (occasional playwright Jason Miller), who is questioning his faith after a disturbing visit to a mental institute and the death of his beloved, elderly mother. Karras doubts the authenticity of Chris’s claims of possession, but after meeting the disgusting Regan and hears a tape of her speaking English backwards goes to the church to request permission to conduct an exorcism. Aging and world-weary archaeologist Father Merrin (Max von Sydow) is called in to assist Karras. Then, all Hell breaks loose.
First of all, I’ve got to state that director William Friedkin is one of the finest filmmakers ever when it comes to creating tension, atmosphere and most of all, the ability to create extremely repulsive, almost unbearable scenes of horror that for some reason you just can’t look away from. A prime example of this is during the surgery scene; he’s also great at making us feel what the characters are feeling, fear what they fear, etc. Even in the simplest of scenes (like when Chris is chilled by the draft from the open window in her daughter’s bedroom) seem to transport you there into the middle of the action. The secret of Friedkin’s success at this is by (just like Hitchcock did with Vertigo and many of his other movies) creating an expanding balloon of tension that just keeps getting bigger and bigger and only pops at the very end.
We expect something to burst out from around the corner and scare both the protagonists and us witless, and thus our mutual fear of the unknown-shared by the protagonists-helps us feel empathy for them and makes us care about the characters. That’s why thrillers and horrors (the well-made ones that is) have some of the most likable and interesting characters ever; as we feel and fear what they feel and fear through the excellent writing and direction, when we see characters like Chris MacNeil it’s like looking at a reflection of some sort, and the fact that Friedkin was able to achieve this is incredible, and is the key to The Exorcist’s success and popularity amongst horror fans.
As if Friedkin’s sublime direction wasn’t enough, the other major crew members made this something to remember. Cinematographer Owen Roizman’s usage of the camera and manipulation of the audience’s POV is incredible, with the camera bonding with the set design perfectly, creating a fantastic world which may at first seem mundane but due to the cinematography, the design and of course the exquisite lightning makes the movie’s location of Georgetown in Washington, D.C. look like a dreary hell on Earth with murky colours abounding in every corner. Norman Gay’s editing is also just as impressive: the scenes with Regan appearing to have a seizure in bed are convincing, and the occasionally jarring editing makes the movie seem all the more chaotic and unpredictable.
Then, there’s the music. Mike Oldfield’s thought-provoking, creepy theme is a notorious one, and fits the movie’s dark tone perfectly. Music is noticeably lacking in a lot of scenes, and one could attribute that to the fact that most pre-80’s movies didn’t have as much music (nowadays every single scene has music of some sort in the background); but it doesn’t matter why it’s lacking, and it doesn’t seem to effect or change anything. The point is that The Exorcist doesn’t need a lot of music to cause frights and thrills, a feat that I doubt modern horror directors (AKA blithering half-wits) would be able to achieve.
The special effects are superb considering it was the 1970’s, and the make-up for the possessed Regan even more so; in fact, I would go as far to say that the make-up in The Exorcist is the greatest cinematic make-up of all time (closely followed by the prosthetics in the original Planet of the Apes, that is).
The Exorcist’s acting is some of the finest, and it’s all flawless: Ellen Burstyn captures and then throttles her character’s dialogue, and I doubt anyone else could’ve better shown (through both body and voice) the transformation of her character from cheerful celebrity to a trembling, tearful and terrified wreck, a vulnerable, broken woman. Then there’s Max von Sydow and Jason Miller, both of which the camera loves, and it’s little wonder why; they’re both great actors when it comes to facial expressions and physical acting. Miller’s performance in particular is filled with nuances, and the movie is worth watching to see his excellently restrained performance.
But the cast member who blows all the rest out of the water and despite being the youngest is the best is undoubtedly Linda Blair; the fact that she was only about 14 during this movie’s production is quite incredible. Blair was obviously enormously dedicated to her work, as the complex make-up would’ve taken hours to apply. She is a joy to watch in some ways (as it’s heartening to know that child actors aren’t always bad), and also repulsive due to her character’s unholy possession. She is brilliantly expressive and is instantly likable the moment you see her character, and then instantly disturbing the moment you see her character possessed.
An honourable mention should go to Mercedes McCambridge (legendary radio star who Orson Welles once called ‘the greatest living radio actress’) who provides the demon’s voice. When you hear the demon’s voice, you can’t tell if it’s male or female, as it’s so inhuman and seemingly unnatural. Friedkin originally used Blair’s one voice, and whilst it initially worked fine, McCambridge was more experienced and her voice alone was hugely memorable and dramatic. Needless to say, McCambridge’s contribution to this movie is well-known.
The only thing that I may have criticised the movie for would’ve been the fact that early on there are a lot of very slow, almost boring scenes. But then I realised later on in the movie-they are deliberately a bit dull, because as well as building tension, showing off his cast’s, crew’s and his own talents and introducing the characters, he did another thing to make us empathise with them-we began to see (at least in the case of Chris and Karras) their day-to-day activity. We learn about them. We see what makes them tick. A more cynical critic than me (hard to imagine, I know) would dismiss the scenes where Regan’s painted models are shown to both the audience and Lt. Kinderman (a minor character portrayed by 12 Angry Men’s Lee J Cobb) as ‘pointless.’ But in the subtlest of ways, Friedkin and the writers are making the characters much more human by introducing quirks, depth-filled personalities, daily routines and backstories. Sure, it might be irrelevant that both Karras and Kinderman are big movie buffs, but that little touch of detail makes them seem more human, more realistic, and thus more endearing. The Exorcist is a great way to teach young directors and screenwriters how to make their characters likable and endearing.
The Exorcist may not been as scary as it once was, but it’s still as entertaining, captivating and interesting as it was decades ago, having not dated a bit. It’s an unbelievably well-made movie and works on many levels; I’m not going to even talk about the complex religious, scientific, philosophical and spiritual ideas it implies and introduces. It means something different to everyone, but the overall feeling and message you get from it depends on what kind of person you are.
It’s a rich, inventive and perfect horror masterpiece that deserves all the recognition and praise it’s received over the years; even if you aren’t scared by it, I doubt you’ll be disappointed.
Like with Citizen Kane, 1973’s monumentally famous horror The Exorcist has a reputation that precedes it; many people label Kane as the greatest movie of all time, but personally I think that Kane is duelling it out with Fantasia, Psycho and Amadeus for number one spot. The Exorcist has been called the scariest movie of all time on countless occasions (even on some of the modern cover art for its home video releases), so naturally I expected to be scared witless and I would require a change of underwear every night for a week.
As it so happens, The Exorcist is not the scariest movie of all time; or at least I don’t think so. Because when it comes down to it, it’s all a matter of ‘Play it again, Sam’; people have passed it down wrong. I have no doubts in my mind that this caused people to even vomit back in 1973 (although one can wonder as this was released two years after the ultra-violent A Clockwork Orange), but nowadays it is something much more creepy and repulsive than inherently scary. That is not to say however, that The Exorcist isn’t a good movie. In fact, it’s a brilliant one.
It’s the story of a fairly happy-go-lucky actress and mother, Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn) and she is filled with happiness and also has a close friendship with her creative daughter Regan (Linda Blair); naturally (it is a horror after all), as a result she becomes traumatised, beaten and bruised by a dark incident that starts with seizures and what the mother claims are ‘just nerves.’ Regan possesses unnatural, adult strength and snarls blasphemous curses at her mother that would make a sailor blush. After several operations as well as visits from shrinks prove that there seems to be nothing mentally wrong with her, Regan starts masturbating with a cross before her head notoriously turns round a whole 360 degrees.
The desperate Chris, despite her unreligious nature, calls in a priest for assistance: Father Damien Karras (occasional playwright Jason Miller), who is questioning his faith after a disturbing visit to a mental institute and the death of his beloved, elderly mother. Karras doubts the authenticity of Chris’s claims of possession, but after meeting the disgusting Regan and hears a tape of her speaking English backwards goes to the church to request permission to conduct an exorcism. Aging and world-weary archaeologist Father Merrin (Max von Sydow) is called in to assist Karras. Then, all Hell breaks loose.
First of all, I’ve got to state that director William Friedkin is one of the finest filmmakers ever when it comes to creating tension, atmosphere and most of all, the ability to create extremely repulsive, almost unbearable scenes of horror that for some reason you just can’t look away from. A prime example of this is during the surgery scene; he’s also great at making us feel what the characters are feeling, fear what they fear, etc. Even in the simplest of scenes (like when Chris is chilled by the draft from the open window in her daughter’s bedroom) seem to transport you there into the middle of the action. The secret of Friedkin’s success at this is by (just like Hitchcock did with Vertigo and many of his other movies) creating an expanding balloon of tension that just keeps getting bigger and bigger and only pops at the very end.
We expect something to burst out from around the corner and scare both the protagonists and us witless, and thus our mutual fear of the unknown-shared by the protagonists-helps us feel empathy for them and makes us care about the characters. That’s why thrillers and horrors (the well-made ones that is) have some of the most likable and interesting characters ever; as we feel and fear what they feel and fear through the excellent writing and direction, when we see characters like Chris MacNeil it’s like looking at a reflection of some sort, and the fact that Friedkin was able to achieve this is incredible, and is the key to The Exorcist’s success and popularity amongst horror fans.
As if Friedkin’s sublime direction wasn’t enough, the other major crew members made this something to remember. Cinematographer Owen Roizman’s usage of the camera and manipulation of the audience’s POV is incredible, with the camera bonding with the set design perfectly, creating a fantastic world which may at first seem mundane but due to the cinematography, the design and of course the exquisite lightning makes the movie’s location of Georgetown in Washington, D.C. look like a dreary hell on Earth with murky colours abounding in every corner. Norman Gay’s editing is also just as impressive: the scenes with Regan appearing to have a seizure in bed are convincing, and the occasionally jarring editing makes the movie seem all the more chaotic and unpredictable.
Then, there’s the music. Mike Oldfield’s thought-provoking, creepy theme is a notorious one, and fits the movie’s dark tone perfectly. Music is noticeably lacking in a lot of scenes, and one could attribute that to the fact that most pre-80’s movies didn’t have as much music (nowadays every single scene has music of some sort in the background); but it doesn’t matter why it’s lacking, and it doesn’t seem to effect or change anything. The point is that The Exorcist doesn’t need a lot of music to cause frights and thrills, a feat that I doubt modern horror directors (AKA blithering half-wits) would be able to achieve.
The special effects are superb considering it was the 1970’s, and the make-up for the possessed Regan even more so; in fact, I would go as far to say that the make-up in The Exorcist is the greatest cinematic make-up of all time (closely followed by the prosthetics in the original Planet of the Apes, that is).
The Exorcist’s acting is some of the finest, and it’s all flawless: Ellen Burstyn captures and then throttles her character’s dialogue, and I doubt anyone else could’ve better shown (through both body and voice) the transformation of her character from cheerful celebrity to a trembling, tearful and terrified wreck, a vulnerable, broken woman. Then there’s Max von Sydow and Jason Miller, both of which the camera loves, and it’s little wonder why; they’re both great actors when it comes to facial expressions and physical acting. Miller’s performance in particular is filled with nuances, and the movie is worth watching to see his excellently restrained performance.
But the cast member who blows all the rest out of the water and despite being the youngest is the best is undoubtedly Linda Blair; the fact that she was only about 14 during this movie’s production is quite incredible. Blair was obviously enormously dedicated to her work, as the complex make-up would’ve taken hours to apply. She is a joy to watch in some ways (as it’s heartening to know that child actors aren’t always bad), and also repulsive due to her character’s unholy possession. She is brilliantly expressive and is instantly likable the moment you see her character, and then instantly disturbing the moment you see her character possessed.
An honourable mention should go to Mercedes McCambridge (legendary radio star who Orson Welles once called ‘the greatest living radio actress’) who provides the demon’s voice. When you hear the demon’s voice, you can’t tell if it’s male or female, as it’s so inhuman and seemingly unnatural. Friedkin originally used Blair’s one voice, and whilst it initially worked fine, McCambridge was more experienced and her voice alone was hugely memorable and dramatic. Needless to say, McCambridge’s contribution to this movie is well-known.
The only thing that I may have criticised the movie for would’ve been the fact that early on there are a lot of very slow, almost boring scenes. But then I realised later on in the movie-they are deliberately a bit dull, because as well as building tension, showing off his cast’s, crew’s and his own talents and introducing the characters, he did another thing to make us empathise with them-we began to see (at least in the case of Chris and Karras) their day-to-day activity. We learn about them. We see what makes them tick. A more cynical critic than me (hard to imagine, I know) would dismiss the scenes where Regan’s painted models are shown to both the audience and Lt. Kinderman (a minor character portrayed by 12 Angry Men’s Lee J Cobb) as ‘pointless.’ But in the subtlest of ways, Friedkin and the writers are making the characters much more human by introducing quirks, depth-filled personalities, daily routines and backstories. Sure, it might be irrelevant that both Karras and Kinderman are big movie buffs, but that little touch of detail makes them seem more human, more realistic, and thus more endearing. The Exorcist is a great way to teach young directors and screenwriters how to make their characters likable and endearing.
The Exorcist may not been as scary as it once was, but it’s still as entertaining, captivating and interesting as it was decades ago, having not dated a bit. It’s an unbelievably well-made movie and works on many levels; I’m not going to even talk about the complex religious, scientific, philosophical and spiritual ideas it implies and introduces. It means something different to everyone, but the overall feeling and message you get from it depends on what kind of person you are.
It’s a rich, inventive and perfect horror masterpiece that deserves all the recognition and praise it’s received over the years; even if you aren’t scared by it, I doubt you’ll be disappointed.
I just don't like where the film goes after it transitions there.
