With the death of William Friedkin, the film world lost one of its most innovative figures. During the 1970s, Friedkin directed three key definers of the decade (and three of my favourite movies). In 1971, the gritty crime-thriller The French Connection. In 1977, the still greatly underappreciated nail-biter Sorcerer. Arguably however, the film for which Friedkin will be most remembered, is his seminal 1973 masterpiece The Exorcist.
Back in cinemas to celebrate its fiftieth anniversary, this was to be a very different viewing experience. This was my first time seeing The Exorcist on the big screen, and several months ago I’d had the immense pleasure of reading the William Peter Blatty source novel. With so many years having passed since its release, along with several sequels and innumerable derivatives, The Exorcist still feels one of a kind. The Exorcist is both one of horror cinema’s greatest accomplishments, and one of the all-time great movies.
Like the novel, at its heart the film is about the faltering and rejuvenation of faith, but also confronting the loss of a loved one both literally and metaphorically. Jason Miller’s Father Karras is haunted by his lapsed faith and the death of his mother. Ellen Burstyn’s Chris MacNeil fears her daughter Regan’s inevitable transition from innocent little girl to womanhood before the demonic force takes possession of her. The great irony of the The Exorcist is the Catholic priest does not believe Regan is possessed, but her atheist mother becomes convinced of it. It’s through these two people with contradictory beliefs that human relationships to faith are most poignantly explored.
The Exorcist’s slower, dialogue driven parts have always been of more interest to me than the sensationally graphic possession scenes. Lee J. Cobb as Lieutenant Kinderman, remains my favourite character. His involvement in the story is stripped down from his Columbo-like sleuthing in the novel to a few key scenes. For those of a similar disposition, I’d highly recommend reading the novel where many of the subtler elements in the film are meatier and side characters have a great deal more definition.
Despite the reputation it’s sometimes had, The Exorcist is the furthest thing from just an infamous shocker. It’s a shocking film of course, but the masterful elegance of the performances and cinematography throughout its quieter periods affirm it as an indisputable work of art.
As for how the scenes of the possessed Regan have aged, all I’ll say is the audience at the Showroom was comprised largely of under twenty-fives, all of whom gasped, winced, and even screamed. Such is the timeless, startling power of The Exorcist.
5/5
