the exorcist: believer

I’ve made little secret of my dislike - if not outright contempt - for the exorcism subgenre over the years. William Friedkin’s 1973 classic The Exorcist may be an undisputed titan of cinematic horror, but its legacy is more akin to that viral Oppenheimer meme in which a stricken-looking Cillian Murphy leans forward with his fingertips pressed to his temple. The ensuing half-century - and the past twenty years in particular - has seen a parade of creatively… well, if “bankrupt” sounds too harsh, let’s at least say unadventurous imitators. Films such as The Conjuring trilogy, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, The Last Exorcism, Deliver Us From Evil, The Last Rite, The Devil Inside, Prey For the Devil and The Pope’s Exorcist, which mechanically recycle Friedkin’s playbook beat-by-beat, with almost no understanding of what made the original work in the first place (hint: it wasn’t heads rotating 360-degrees, beds levitating, basso growls emerging from children’s mouths, or crosses turning upside down on the wall). We’re basically just watching Xeroxes of Xeroxes (of Xeroxes) at this point.   

It’s a strange yet undeniable quirk, however, that the actual follow-ups within the Exorcist series proper aren’t really amongst the offending parties. Say what you will about John Boorman’s infamously off-the-rails sequel Exorcist II: The Heretic, but it’s definitely committed to its own unique brand of locust-fueled fever dream lunacy. William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist III - the only remotely palatable film of the bunch - was a flawed but fascinating supernatural police procedural with George C. Scott punching way above the movie’s weight, one legendary jump scare, and a studio-mandated exorcism tacked on at the end. And it’s hard to know what exactly Paul Schrader and Renny Harlin’s jousting Exorcist prequels Dominion and The Beginning were going for (they’re each lousy in their own way), but at least they went way off into the sun-baked dust of the East African desert to do it. The Exorcist may be a mediocre franchise, but each entry has made a passing effort to carve out its own niche.

The Exorcist: Believer, on the other hand, is a legacy sequel cynically designed to replicate the iconography of the original in the sacred name of “fan service.” Set in small-town Georgia, the story follows 13-year-old friends Angela (Lidya Jewett) and Katherine (Olivia O’Neill) - both of them fine, but neither in danger of taking Linda Blair’s crown - who head into the woods after school to attempt a seance (rarely a good idea)… three days later - following a frenzied manhunt - the two of them turn up in a barn over 30 miles away, disoriented and believing mere hours have passed. This opening act… while not exactly great, does have legitimate tonal texture and a firm tingle of emotional stakes. Unfortunately, it’s at this point that the movie inevitably shifts into standard exorcism territory and the air slowly bleeds from the narrative balloon.     

Having wrapped his Halloween trilogy barely 12 months ago, director David Gordon Green wasted precious little time in tackling another of the horror genre’s most sacrosanct properties. Many have had trouble getting a handle on the seemingly arbitrary twists and turns of his career; the closest parallel would be Soderbergh - another prolific onetime indie darling who’s taken to following whatever creative winds happen to catch his fancy. The difference, however, is that even when Soderbergh misfires, there’s a certain clarity and erudition to his filmmaking… I’m not sure the same could be said of Gordon Green. Halloween Ends, to its credit, showed tantalizing glimpses of the more innovative and ambitious horror film he likely aspired to make if given free rein… but The Exorcist: Believer is little more than glossy hackwork. It has no discernible personality, no visionary spark. Its most noteworthy gambit is its Doublemint approach to possession - which feels very much in the same spirit as The Lost World concluding that the best way to top a T-Rex attack is simply to add a second T-Rex.​

Leslie Odom Jr. does most of the heavy lifting as Angela’s single dad Victor - tasked with a devastating choice in the opening sequence that eventually comes full-circle… but the hype is understandably centered on 90-year-old Ellen Burstyn, who was somehow talked into reprising her role as Chris MacNeil from the original (no doubt she concluded the payday would be a tidy windfall for the great grandkids). The role is non-essential nostalgia bait with the corniest of payoffs, but Burstyn’s screen presence remains fiercely undiminished. The real standout is Ann Dowd, a fabulous character actress who deserves to be seen as more than the store-brand alternative to Margo Martindale. She plays Victor’s neighbor Ann, a nurse who nearly became a nun and, in one of the film’s more inspired flourishes, is tasked with leading the exorcism after the church completely wimps out (we should probably be thankful Father Merrin’s grandson doesn’t show up, with Lieutenant Kinderman’s nephew in tow). But why is the climax cluttered with so many rando characters? Katherine’s family pastor shrieks “Hallelujah,” then a Haitian Hoodoo woman chucks herbs into the fireplace - it’s an absolute circus. There’s nothing even remotely close to the sorrowful tenor of Jason Miller’s performance as Father Karras (which, to be clear, *was* the key to the original’s greatness). The Exorcist: Believer is committed to the first movie in a slavish yet irritatingly half-hearted fashion (if we’re doing this, you might as well be flogging those tubular bells every ten minutes). It’s supposedly the first entry in an all-new trilogy, but does virtually nothing to lay the groundwork for future installments. If cooler heads were to prevail and simply call the whole enterprise off, then I’d be the true believer.