In Defense of The Exorcist

Or, why The Exorcist is a fantastic movie that's still worth your time. Spoiler alert!

Few filmmakers achieve the same acclaim and cultural impact as William Friedkin did with The Exorcist. Not only did it completely change the landscape of horror films, but it was a revolutionary development for cinema as a whole. For instance, The Exorcist set new standards in the technical aspects of film making, with trailblazing makeup artist Dick Smith creating new ways to achieve the grotesque, demonic face for Linda Blair, the graceful, old age look for Max von Sydow, and special effects difficult to emulate today with modern computer technology.

Despite all the many merits of The Exorcist and the way it rocked both casual filmgoers and more academic film lovers around the world, it doesn't exist without push back. The main line of criticism I often see in the argument that this movie is overrated is that "it isn't even scary."

This is a comment I'm more than used to. Over half the time that I disclose that it's among my very most favorite movies, I'm met with, "Why? It's not even scary." Needless to say, I find the comment frustrating. With the risk of sounding too much like a disgruntled film snob, I feel that modern, mainstream horror movies have skewed the perception of what defines a great horror movie. It's understandable why someone would go into The Exorcist and leave underwhelmed after hearing about how it's "the scariest movie ever made" for their entire life. After all, the cheap gimmicks used to startle viewers that people have grown so accustomed to are completely lacking in The Exorcist.

But to go so far as to say that The Exorcist is a boring, poorly made movie only trying to shock audiences is a gross misunderstanding of what the film sets out to do and what it accomplishes. I stand by the argument that The Exorcist is a beautiful staple of the horror genre that rejects shallow techniques to terrify audiences by instead utilizing the emotionality and likability of the main character, Damien Karras.

Wait -- Damien is the main character?

This is one of the biggest misconceptions I run into regarding The Exorcist, despite the fact that it's called The Exorcist and he's the priest who completes the exorcism. Certainly, Regan MacNeil plays a central part to the story, but the conflict ultimately isn't her conflict, but Damien's. The hyperfocus on Regan being the scary part of the movie is what, in my opinion, leaves people feeling so cheated afterwards. I won't assert that the concept of demonic possession isn't a frightening thought, but when you grow up in a post-Exorcist society where you become used to Regan's face at 10 years old through jump scares on the Internet (such as I did), the gruesome nature of Regan's existence as a possessed child wears off before you even get to watch the movie.

There's the unfortunate truth that horror films of the past might not necessarily be as viscerally disturbing as horror films of today, just because standards are set and then beat as film technology progresses. What might have been difficult to accomplish in Les yeux sans visage (1960), for example, could be done more feasibly and even more graphically in La piel que habito (2011).

That's not to say that horror movies of the past can't be jarring. However, it is easy to become desensitized. The immense success of The Exorcist opened a new world of supernatural horror, where mostly harmless haunted house stories turned into graphic depictions of demonic possession. A countless amount of modern horror movies center around the idea of a demon or a similar malevolent entity possessing someone or something with the intention of harming the possessed person and/or the people around them. Although The Exorcist is largely responsible for this genre, it ironically becomes lost in the background of similar films, ultimately softening the blow of the obscene behavior of a possessed 12 year old girl that caused so many to faint in the aisles of movie theaters back in 1973.

There's no blaspheming in the 70s!

But what does help The Exorcist stand out from the rest of demonic possession films is the stance it takes in regards to the possessed character. While I do very much enjoy The Conjuring series (the second one in particular) and believe they're excellent modern horror films, The Conjuring (2013) is emblematic of the approach many horror films take to the subject. In the first film of the series, the audience is immediately introduced to Ed and Lorraine Warren, well-known demonologists of The Amityville Horror (1979) fame. So while neither film necessarily says, "There are demons in your house," from the get-go, the movies are set up so that we, the audience, observe paranormal activity from the perspective of the family being haunted and know that it has to be something supernatural because we are presented with no other possibilities.

While it's common knowledge that The Exorcist is about demonic possession, the movie treats the subject matter much differently. The idea of an exorcism isn't even brought up until over halfway into the movie. When Regan's mother, Chris MacNeil, goes to Damien, a Jesuit priest, for help with an exorcism (which follows over 10 minutes after the scene where an exorcism was first suggested), he immediately rejects the idea as a ridiculous suggestion:

If, um, a person's, you know, possessed by a demon or something... how do they get an exorcism?

Well, first thing, I'll have to get them in a time machine and get them back to the 16th century.

Although we do get to see snippets of what's happening to Regan, we see it through the eyes of her mother, never through Regan herself. When we aren't watching from Chris' perspective, we're watching from Damien's. The crux of the story's plot revolves around him and his battle with his own faith. It's not about that one time when some young girl in Washington, D.C. was possessed by a demon. And in that misunderstanding lies the biggest obstacle in discovering what The Exorcist is about and why it's so effective.

It's about what?

William Peter Blatty, author of The Exorcist, was shocked by public reactions following the book's publication in 1971. According to Blatty:

I have no recollection of intending to frighten anyone at any point in time.... I sleep with a nightlight. Please.

Blatty, a devout Catholic, wrote the book with the intention of telling a story about good triumphing over evil, as seen through a man struggling with his own belief in God. But La mort de l'auteur and all that, right? Who cares what he meant? People say it's a horror, so we have to analyze it as a horror and not just a drama.

However, the difference between a good horror and a bad horror are its dramatic elements. Conflict in horror films can be simple, like trying to avoid the person with a machete and a grudge against teenage camp counselors when you're preparing for summer camp. But a great horror has those dramatic components -- like stealing money from your employer and fleeing to a different state, for instance -- that establish stakes and an emotional core to keep people invested, rather than littering your movie with sudden and graphic images with the hope that it keeps people interested.

This isn't me knocking lowbrow horror movies at all. I had a blast watching Friday the 13th. But the emotional impact of a movie like that is nonexistent, especially when compared with The Exorcist. The dramatic core of The Exorcist allows the story to develop characters and set higher stakes that in turn make the story all the more frightening. The horror doesn't depend on the demon and the demon alone, but rather exploits uncertainty and the implications of it that you would rather not believe were true for your own sake.

So yes, even as a horror movie, The Exorcist is about a man and his faith, not about a girl and a demon. The horror isn't drawn from the possession, but rather inspired by those who surround her as they struggle to make sense of what's happening.

So a man doesn't know if God is real or not. What's so scary about that?

I find that many people are put off by how long it takes to get to the "action" of the movie, if you will. It takes over 30 minutes for Regan to do anything somewhat out of the ordinary and 45 minutes for the audience to witness something that can be construed as supernatural. Demon Regan doesn't even make an appearance until nearly an hour into the movie. Once again, this is just a consequence of the misconception that The Exorcist is about Regan instead of Damien.

Through the film we find out a number of facts about him, like that he used to be a boxer before he was a priest, that he works at Georgetown University, and that he's also a psychiatrist. In the first hour, however, we find out two crucial pieces of information about him: one, that his mother, to whom he was very close, has recently died, and two, that his faith in God has been shaken.

Familial bonds are often explored through horror movies, most likely because it's such a natural and universal experience. As the importance and dynamics of families vary between cultures and individuals, it leaves room for filmmakers to offer their own interpretation. In films like Psycho (1960), the bonds between mother and son are much more cynical and dark in their portrayal. The Exorcist approaches it from the opposite end. Damien is the only child of a first-generation Greek immigrant, as evidenced through his last name and the accent of both his mother and uncle. One of the first scenes we see with Damien features him visiting his mother at her apartment. We learn that she's sick and that he places her in a hospital in fear of not being able to support her, only to pull her out again when she begs to understand why he would put her there. Later, we learn from Damien's best friend, Father Joseph Dyer, that she died alone in her apartment. Damien is wracked with guilt because of this.

I should have been there, I wasn't there, I should have been there.

Similarly, we see a strong, meaningful bond between Regan and Chris. We learn that Chris is divorced and her ex-husband is an absent father who can't even be bothered to say happy birthday to his daughter. Although Chris is a movie actress, she takes time to play with Regan and check on how she's doing. Like Damien grieves over his mother, we see Chris grieve for her daughter that she lost, albeit not physically.

Mary Karras' death and Regan's inexplicable behavior both lead Damien and Chris to question their core values and beliefs and grapple with the possibility that they're responsible for what happened. Damien is a bad son for letting his mother die and possibly sending her soul to Hell. Chris is a bad mother because she can't figure out what's wrong with her daughter and how to protect her. Perhaps these worries are irrational, as nothing about what has happened to either of them is inherently their fault (Joe even assures Damien he couldn't have done anything about it), yet their own perception that it could be their fault consumes them.

As both a priest and a psychiatrist, Damien represents the battle between superstition and fact. His professions seem to be contradictory, the same way he finds finds it contradictory for such awful things to happen in a world created by a God who's supposed to be great. Why would God take his mother away like that? Why would God allow former altar boys to end up homeless? Why would God allow an innocent child to be possessed by a demon?

It's the fear of the unknown that sends humankind scrambling for answers. The possibility that demons exist is an incredibly daunting one that gives way to larger, more existential questions. To not have control of a situation is scary. To not have the ability to protect the ones you love from something much more powerful than you are is scary. The inevitability of death is scary, as well as the possibility of an afterlife. It's so frightening that it's hard to ration with or fully comprehend what it all means.

These realizations occur to most everybody at one point or another. Characters fearing the unknown is incredibly humanizing and offers instantaneous connection with the audience, even if we have never personally witnessed our 12 year old daughter become possessed by a demon or felt the pain that comes with the death of a parent.

Alexa, define "empathy."

Obviously not every movie will resonate with every person. It just so happen that The Exorcist resonates with me on an embarrassingly deep level. But I think to write it off as a boring, not-scary movie ignores what horror is and doesn't give credit where it's due.

"Alright!" I hear my anti-The Exorcist strawman sigh. "So maybe it can be scary on some weird, prehistoric, survival instinct level. But what other value does it have? Why do you care so much about it?"

Damien Karras, SJA (Subverted Jesus Allegory)

Warning: spoilers start now!

Sure, it's fun watching a group of teens being teens get cut down one by one. But there's no pay off in the end. And while I love my Texas Chainsaw Massacres, there's nothing being learned, nothing being said. It's entertainment for an hour and a half and then you move on.*

Horror films as a form of cheap entertainment underestimates the potential of the entire genre. They can be absolutely rich in social commentary, like Alien (1979) or Night of the Living Dead (1968). And they can ultimately be uplifting, like in the case of The Exorcist.

There seems to be another pervasive thought that the demon won in The Exorcist because Father Merrin and Damien end up dead.

How dare a man with established cardiovascular issues kick the bucket during an exorcism.

Roland Barthes notwithstanding, the "love conquers all" theme that Blatty aimed for in his original novel shines through in the movie adaptation through the resolution to Damien's story. There are the obvious resolutions, like how Regan is un-possessed and Chris gets her daughter back, but only because Damien makes peace with himself and his faith. It's true that he remained hesitant of the idea that Regan was possessed even minutes before the exorcism took place, when he felt compelled to inform Father Merrin of different personalities he had observed in Regan. However, in the face of complete desperation, Damien invites the demon into his body and throws himself out the window, simultaneously ridding the MacNeil household of the demon and reaffirming his faith.

(Not that I'm trying to claim that to be a good Catholic you have to throw yourself out the window. The Christian Bible has a whole story about that already.)

But it is worthy to note that Damien had never met Regan. The first time he ever spoke to her, she was already fully possessed. He knew nothing of her before her possession beside whatever Chris might have told him or he could have inferred from her drawings in the basement. He could have left Regan possessed without putting himself in harm's way. Instead, Damien demands the spirit enter him instead, and sacrifices himself so Regan would be hurt no more.

I think I've heard this story before...

In a 1998 interview with Gadfly Magazine, Blatty stated:

It was a writer I admire, Ray Bradbury, who saw this most clearly when he referred to The Exorcist as "a great love story."

So while The Exorcist features unnerving questions and disturbing imagery, it's ultimately a comforting story in the end.

I consider Damien a subversion of the Jesus allegory (à la Cool Hand Luke (1967), if you need an example) because there is nothing special about him that makes him worthy of comparison to Jesus. Sure, he's a priest, but given that the story is built around his struggle to even believe that there is a God, he seems like the least likely candidate to do something so drastic to save the life of a stranger. Yet he does, and Damien is ultimately freed from his own anxiety and uncertainty while also making life possible for the MacNeils again.

Just remember, that death is not the end.

Conclusion

The Exorcist, for me, is one of those rare films that stuck with me long after my first viewing. It has a certain spark of the most vulnerable kind of humanity that's often times lacking in horror films. It's a story of overcoming the most unthinkable of scenarios with selfless love for one another. The philosophical implications of events that happen in the movie completely overshadow everything about Regan (as much as I love her).

The Exorcist is an achievement for film as a whole, both in how well the movie was made and how applicable its message is to everybody. You don't even have to be Catholic or a theist in general to appreciate it.

There's a reason why it's so haunting, a reason why it sticks out so much in the minds of viewers around the globe. Its conclusion is simple. Its effects are long-reaching. Love will win.

Post script: I am not a Catholic, just someone who's really into The Exorcist and has an interest in Abrahamic religions.

*I stand corrected over my disheartened criticism of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.