The Exorcist was a courageous movie for its time and place— the United States in the early 1970’s. Even though William Peter Blatty’s novel had been a best-seller, producing this movie and getting it distributed were far from easy.
The Exorcist was not a typical 70’s film; it was not afraid to paint its picture in bold colors, showing good and evil as two distinct forces… forces fated to battle face to face.
Ironically, this was a major reason for its box office success. America was in need of hopefulness. The Exorcist left you feeling that courage and faith might be rewarded, not tossed into the garbage. Along with Jaws and Alien, The Exorcist was a major force in pushing horror movies into the mainstream.
The early 70’s was still a time of much angry social/political finger-pointing. But this movie was not afraid to make its statement; that some issues were simpler than conservative vs. liberal, pro-choice
vs. pro-life. In doing this, it raised your hopes of finding heroes willing to go to war with evil, not to watch passively.
The evil in The Exorcist is not suggested; it is shown, more graphically than anything up till that time. The movie broke new ground in its violence and sexuality. No movie before it had dared to
combine religious and sexual imagery like this one did, not even
Ken Russell’s The Devils, which had received an X rating two years before.
The Exorcist’s plot is not complicated—it deals with Pazuzu, an Asian demon, thousands of years old. It asks you to imagine: What if this ancient evil somehow possessed a young girl in present-day
America? And what if the girl’s mother (not Catholic, or even religious herself) was to choose Roman Catholic priests to
drive out this demon?
One major challenge facing the novel and the movie:
how do you portray absolute good and absolute evil? How
would they speak? What actions would they take? The novel (and the screenplay, which followed the novel closely) had to make the dialogue and the action specific.
In other words, this is how absolute evil and good would function in a real situation. You would expect that each individual’s image of good and evil’s actions is highly personal.
Let me give one crude, but memorable example. During the exorcism, the demon (through Regan’s voice) makes some
vulgar sexual references to Merrin’s (the title character)
mother. To a sheltered, provincial person, these remarks
might seem unspeakably vile, almost unbearable to hear. To a
tough, big-city kid, the same remarks sound no worse than
something heard in their neighborhood playground. Thoroughly
not shocking. But this is an exception, a rare example of bad judgment in the writing.
Why is it this little girl, Regan McNeil, whom the demon chooses to possess? Regan seems to be a random choice. She is a special girl but not that special; most of us have been fortunate enough to
know one child like her.
Regan is not a saint. But she is a sweet girl, clearly finding joy and hope in everyday life, even though her parents are separating, and her father seems unwilling to stay part of her life.
The daughter Chris can not forget; no saint but radiating an
unmistakable sweetness
Chris, Regan’s mom, is no saint either. But her importance in this movie cannot be overstated. Watch it again, concentrate on Chris, and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
She is the good mother we all wanted, someone able to give unconditional love, and hang in for her child under the ugliest of circumstances. That in itself is plenty.
Chris; not a larger-than-life figure, but the good mother we
all wanted
Most people are quite familiar with The Exorcist’s plot, from reading the best-selling novel, seeing the movie, or word of mouth.
Everyone seemed to be talking about it, from legal secretaries to ministers in your neighborhood church. The climactic exorcism scenes have passed into American folklore, lampooned on Saturday Night Live and the Scary Movie series by such well-known actors as Richard Pryor, James Woods, and God knows who else.
A little more of the plot. An American girl, about 11, experiences severe psychological problems with no explanation. Along with out-of-control behavior come mysterious noises, then her bed shaking violently. Her mother, Chris is like many of us. She respects religion in general but rarely finds it meaningful in day-to-day life. Science, medical science, is where she looks for her
answers to Regan’s condition.
The tests Regan undergoes are painful and invasive. But they do not help her in any way.
Many felt the pain Regan undergoes (and the limitations of
modern Western medicine it underlines) scared them more than
anything later
And you watch a subtle change in this gentle girl’s response to the medical people, first defensive, then out-and-out hostile. To a sensitive mother, Regan seems to be getting swallowed up– and silenced, by another force. You can easily overlook this insight, in the tidal wave of special effects to come.
But Chris never misses this crucial thread. She has a devastating sense of the real Regan being pulled into a pit. Yet she knows that Regan’s gentle, sweet spirit can never be destroyed.
Regan–Her essence buried by outside forces
A lot has been written about the special effects in The Exorcist, the hideous changes in Regan’s face and voice. Most found them brutally terrifying. More than a few found them laughable.
Many intellectuals stuck to the old argument that showing something scary is never as frightening as suggesting it… leaving it to each individual to conjure up what is most frightening to them.
But for many people (including myself), seeing the transformation onscreen was another story. I think my reaction ( absolute terror) at watching Regan change was a typical one. The make-up job on Linda Blair (Regan) and her dubbed voice, by veteran actress Mercedes McCambridge won well-deserved praise.
Watching The Exorcist again for the first time in many years, what struck me was this: I could remember what Regan did in her possessed state, but not the timing. Who else was there. That some of the worst brutality and viciousness are experienced first, experienced alone by Chris. The slap that leaves her face bruised for weeks. Regan’s masturbation with the cross. Regan pushing Chris’ face against her crotch. Her head turning to reveal an expression of hatred, of contempt for her mother.
The masturbation is riveting partly because, as many critics said, it takes two totally separate entities, the sacred and the beastly, and smashes them together. Those critics are absolutely right.
But there is a second part to it. Taking two such extremes and forcing them together this way, is to say to you in plain terms that every value judgment you make is meaningless. That it’s all a hopeless, pathetic joke.
Hitler, Stalin, Charles Manson…they’re just like Gandhi, Lincoln, or Nelson Mandela.
Chris survives the test. Listen to the way she tells Father Damien, “You tell me that thing upstairs is my daughter.”
Chris has looked deep into the heart of pure despair. Yet she still holds onto her love and faith.
As Regan and Chris’s story unfolds, another struggle is going on. This is Father Damien Karras’s story. Father Damien is a priest and psychiatrist with the massive responsibility of counseling other priests at Georgetown University. The endless demands and his growing guilt about his mother’s poverty and illness are taking a toll.
His last visit to his mother is an eye-opener. She lives alone in an alien, threatening city landscape. She has never made the leap from a Greek way of life to an American lifestyle and that isolates her even more. The less she asks of her son, the more he feels her unspoken demands. Money would not cure her problems but it could ease some of her sorrows. And Father Damien has none to spare from his priest’s salary.
And the vocation he has sacrificed for, no longer seems worth the sacrifice. On the subway, Father Damien walks away from a beggar and his own lack of compassion saddens him. Soon afterwards Damien’s mother dies in a pitiful city hospital; he cannot justify the hardships she was forced to live through.
Ironically it is a medical doctor who gives Chris the idea of getting an exorcism for Regan. Without showing you each intermediate stage, the story gives you an understanding of how a skeptic like Chris could take this path.
Chris finally meets Father Damien to ask for help. It is a quiet but monumental scene; you feel that both people have found what they needed.
You learn much less about the man selected to conduct
the exorcism, Father Merrin. He had performed an exorcism
years before and nearly died in the process. He is also an
archaeologist in the Middle East. During his last visit, he
has a premonition when he finds a small likeness of Pazuzu, then
later finds himself standing face to face with a statue of the
demon.
The moment the two priests enter the house, you can
feel the tension flooding, wave upon wave. Father Merrin
(Max von Sydow) is a combat-tested soldier with an unwavering
attitude. Father Damien has more direct connections to Regan. From talking to Chris, he has gained a vision of the child and her goodness.
Drawing the demon out is a more personal struggle for
Damien than it is for Merrin. Damien has more weaknesses and
doubts; the demon means to attack these vulnerable spots.
Regan and Father Merrin have already been pushed to their physical limits and are close to death from the strain. Both could
pay a heavy price for driving away the demon.
A brutal mind-fuck aimed at Father Damien; the demon manifests as Damien’s’ mother
Father Merrin–ready to risk his life for Regan’s soul
The screenplay gets rid of some of the novel’s hokey, borderline-macho lines from Father Damien when he challenges the demon. A definite improvement. The exorcism’s aftermath leaves you with a cautious optimism.
No light beaming down from Heaven or angels appearing. But a subtle peace on a human level. Watch the expression on Regan’s face as she kisses Father Dyer’s collar (Father Karras’ close friend). It is a moment you will remember.
This movie is a lot more than blood and the split-pea jokes that so many brought up at the time. Faith is a highly individual part of each of us; not easy to change. But this movie may restore our faith in finding heroes who keep their word, who risk everything to fight for something they believe in.