Has Good Truly Triumphed Over Evil?

Rating: 9/10 (22 March 2015)

When "The Exorcist" was released, it was a phenomenon. It did what all great movies do: Spurn discussion. Some Christian condemn it, others supported it for making the devil real to a new generation. Even the critics were divided, some considering the film vulgar trash driven by shock value. Forty years later, "The Exorcist's" status as one of the greatest horror films ever made, if not the greatest, is well established. Few challenge this opinion. It's hard for me to declare any film the greatest anything but "The Exorcist" is clearly an incredible film.
The story behind "The Exorcist" is well known. William Peter Blattey, a screenwriter best known for comedy, was inspired by the supposedly true story of a young boy possessed in 1950s Baltimore. Using this as a basis, he wrote the novel "The Exorcist," which became a great success. Hollywood came calling not long afterwards, as you'd expect. Blatty adapted his own book. Accordingly, "The Exorcist" is an extremely close adaptation, following the book on a nearly scene-by-scene basis.
William Friedkin, who just won an Academy Award for "The French Connection," did not approach "The Exorcist" as a typical horror film. Friedkin shoots the movie with a docu-drama intensity. Though the film is famous for its chilling use of Mike Oldfield's "Tubular Bells," there's very little music in the movie. As we watch the McNeil household go about their days, and Karras' isolated existence, this creates an acute sense of reality. One the film slowly subverts. A sense of chilly unease is created in a simple scene of Chris walking down the street or Karras serving communion. This is best illustrated during Karras' nightmare, which is not outwardly disturbing but still unnerves the viewer. Or the long sequences of Regan in the hospital, focusing on her discomfort during the procedures. No matter how normal things appear at first, its apparent things are going to go very, very wrong.
The creeping feeling of discomfort and established realism leaves the audience for the film's stabbing sequences of shocking behavior. The moments are well known now, widely parodied and referenced. Regan bloodily masturbates with a crucifix, pushes her mother's face into her bloody crotch, screams profanity, spews a torrent of green vomit, and cranks her head around in a circle. Even lesser moments like Regan speaking with the murdered director's voice are well known. Yet Friedkin's rooted-in-reality approach makes these moments creditable. Chris being attacked by her own daughter is shot in an intimate style, placing the audience in the character's shoes. What makes these moments horrifying is not that they're happening. Far more explicit scenes existed before and after. What makes them effective is that they are happening to this girl, in this house, in this way.
The film builds towards the final act, when the titular exorcism takes place. Father Merrin's arrival brings a graveness to the already intense situation. The camera remains focused on the priests as they do their work. The girl blares profanity, moans blasphemy, and floats above the bed. The room shakes, the actors' breaths visible before them. These are special effects but the movie's total commitment to verisimilitude makes them seem plausible. The last third of the movie is still shockingly directed and completely effective. Every time it gives me chills.
It's notable that "The Exorcist's" conclusion still triggers debate. Father Merrin dies, succumbing to his poor health. Karras convinces the demon to leave the girl's body and enters his. With his last ounce of free will, he flings himself from the window, dying. Has good truly triumphed over evil? Has Karras' crisis of faith been resolved in his act of self-sacrifice? If demons exist, God must exist, right? "The Exorcist" doesn't provide easy answers. What catharsis the ending creates is undermined by the scars still visible on Regan's face, the lines of aging on Chris'. These events will haunt them forever. Moreover, the eerie opening has Merrin, in Iraq, starring strangely at a Sumerian statue. The demon recognizes him upon his entry to the house. This is but one battle in a long, on-going war between demonic forces and those of human faith. Is it a battle we can ever truly win? Whether "The Exorcist" is faith-affirming or existentially unnerving is a matter of personal interpretation.
Finally, "The Exorcist" is bolstered by a fantastic cast. Ellen Burstyn at first appears likable. As the events go on, her thread-bare emotions are bravely acted out, showing no sign for movie star vanity. Jason Miller's Karras is darker, more uncertain and troubled then the character in the book. He does a great deal of acting with his face. Max von Sydow's booming voice makes Merrin a figure of immediate respect. Despite only being 44 at the time, he appears much older and carries a lifetime of knowledge and regrets on his shoulders. How much credit Linda Blair can take for her performance is still debated. Blair is great as the cherub-faced Regan, a happy, mischievous child dealing with her parents' divorce. Once possessed, the voice of Mercedes McCambridge and Dick Smith's legendary make-up takes over, creating a disturbing, incomparable portrayal of demonic arrogance and vicious sacrilege. The only performance I'm not too keen on is Lee J. Cobb as Lt. Kinderman, a subplot that didn't entirely work in the book and seems even more extraneous on-screen.
The best horror films are not the ones that simply set out to scare an audience. "The Exorcist" does that. Boy, does it ever. But it also discomforts us, presents us with difficult questions and themes about complex, real life issues. About faith, guilt, the existence of evil and the question of good. The film is a triumph of direction, sound design, and tone but also of writing and creation. To say "The Exorcist" is the greatest horror film ever made is too presumptuous. It is, however, clearly one of the greats, in this genre and any genre.