Speak of the Devil

Year: 1977

Director: John Boorman

Cast: Richard Burton, Linda Blair, Louise Fletcher 

Run Time: 1 hour 58 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

So. It’s 1977. You’re faced with the task of creating a sequel to The Exorcist, the blockbuster smash hit that defined a generation of horror films, was nominated for 10 Oscars, won 2, and was rhapsodically minted the “scariest movie of all time.” What do you do? If your answer is “not make it,” you’ve made the right decision. And, to be fair, that’s exactly what director John Boorman did when he helmed Exorcist II: The Heretic, which contains not a scrap of material recognizable as an Exorcist movie, even though it features the return of three actors and a major location.

The marathon is already going well, I see.

In Exorcist II, Regan MacNeil (Linda Blair) is living in the city with her caretaker Sharon (Kitty Winn), because her mother was wise enough not to get locked into a contract for this one. She regularly attends therapy with Dr. Gene Tuskin (the reliable medical professional Louise Fletcher, of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest), despite the fact that she seems more well-adjusted than any 16-year-old that I've ever met. When Father Philip Lamont (Richard Burton) is sent by a Cardinal (Casablanca’s Paul Henried) to investigate the mid-exorcism death of Father Merrin (Max von Sydow), Tuskin suggests the use of a joint hypnosis machine to sync his mind with Regan’s, because this is more of a sci-fi fantasy movie than anything.

Through this link, the dormant demon Pazuzu shows Father Lamont glimpses of Merrin’s past, when he exorcised a young boy in Africa. This leads him to the discovery of a generation of faith healers, Regan among them, who have been targeted by the demon. Also, there’s a lot of locust metaphors. Then, like, he’s seduced by the demon’s thrall or something? And he visits the original Georgetown house to make out with Regan’s stand-in? I guess? I literally couldn’t spoil this movie if I wanted to, because it makes no flippin’ sense.

Also, James Earl Jones is in it, which is cool I guess.

In addition to the script being an incoherent trash fire, Exorcist II is a black hole of talent, sucking every last drop of quality from a battalion of very capable filmmakers. I mean, come on. Richard Burton, Louise Fletcher, Linda Blair, Paul Henried, Max von Sydow, and James Earl Jones are in this cast. They have 12 Oscar nominations between them. And behind the camera you have Deliverance director John Boorman, legendary composer Ennio Morricone, the cinematographer of Rosemary’s Baby, and so on. This should have been an outstanding success. But guess what happens when you have a director (and uncredited screenplay revisionist) who has an open contempt for the material? Not great things, I can tell you that.

Exorcist II is not only a bad Exorcist movie, it’s a downright dreadful film by any metric on Earth. This is perhaps best exemplified by a scene taken directly from the continuity of Friedkin’s film, filling in the details of Father Merrin’s death via flashback. Set in the same room on the same night of The Exorcist, it has not one whit of its raw power. The staging is brutally boxy and inelegant, and the whole affair is lit like it’s an episode of Married with Children. That scene is the most painful because it egregiously draws comparison to the original film, but this kind of slack handling is apparent from start to finish.

The effects are accomplished mostly by a series of clunky cross dissolves that wouldn’t pass muster in a Lucio Fulci cheapie, the score trips between atonal shrieking and a disturbingly lush romantic keening, and the acting is uniformly vacant. It’s so deeply broken that it’s almost impossible to pinpoint exactly where everything begins to go wrong.

Even the wording of the title is confusing and terrible.

If I had to pick one thing that’s the most wrong with Exorcist II, I’d probably pass the buck to the screenplay. I’m not sure anybody could figure out what to do with it. I admire the audacity of Boorman’s idea to make the storyline about a more positive force, but he was so caught up in his own self-righteousness that he never noticed that, despite the original’s dour storyline, there’s a very positive message at the core: the day is saved and  priest makes a noble sacrifice because he’s finally found his faith. That’s pretty much how horror films work. When you make the narrative positive all the way through, it’s not a scary movie, it’s an episode of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.

And did I mention it’s bloody incomprehensible? The entire first act is just people sitting around an ill-thought-out hypnosis machine straight out of Star Trek and talking calmly in circles while they endlessly visit the same flashback. Then it catapults Father Lamont into Africa where he hallucinates a laboratory inside a medicine man’s cave, a development that is completely ignored by the movie, which chooses to accept both perceptions as the truth. Afterward, an inexplicable number of people run to Georgetown for no discernible reason, then are either killed by plot holes or packaged off into an ambiguous ending that feels like it wraps up an entirely different movie than the one we watched.

Not that Exorcist II feels like a singular movie for more than 12 seconds at a time.

It’s despicable claptrap, and I want nothing more to do with it. The only scene worth sticking around for is The Prom Night-esque interlude where Linda Blair tap-dances to “Lullaby of Broadway.” If I wanted a haphazard grab bag of random scenes full of over-the-top characters, I’d watch SNL instead. Exorcist II: The Heretic is an unscary, befuddling slog that is a failure as a sequel, as a movie, and as a paycheck for everybody involved.

TL;DR: Exorcist II: The Heretic is a failure as a sequel, as a horror movie, and as a piece of entertainment.

Rating: 2/10
Word Count: 1008
Reviews In This Series
The Exorcist (Friedkin, 1973)
Exorcist II: The Heretic (Boorman, 1977)
The Exorcist III (Blatty, 1990)
Exorcist: The Beginning (Harlin, 2004)
Dominion: Prequel to The Exorcist (Schrader, 2005)

Popcorn Kernels: Family Movie Night

In which we explore mini-reviews of movies my parents chose for me to watch.

Casablanca

Year: 1942

Director: Michael Curtiz

Cast: Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid

Run Time: 1 hour 42 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG

A tavern owner in Morocco discovers that his ex-love has arrived in town with her husband and he has the means to help them escape, should he choose to let her go.

Man, I don’t even wanna touch this one. Casablanca is such a minted classic, even by regular people who think Citizen Kane is boring, that I was nervous about how I would receive it when I finally buckled down and watched it for the first time. And I have a notoriously cold heart when it comes to romance films. It might just be the fact that there tends to be a gulf between me and onscreen couples in terms of both sexuality and approach (if you stand outside my window in the middle of the night with a boom box, I will throw things at you until you go away because I need my sleep, dammit), but love movies need to clear a high bar before they even have a chance of touching my icy heart.

Casablanca almost gets there. The romance thrums and thrives in the chemistry between Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman, but it’s far more present in the performance than its actualization. In their interplay, you get a perfect sense of a past Great love gone dark, but when they actually show flashback scenes of this supposed Great Love, frankly I’m not convinced. Perhaps it’s the toothless, Code-neutered interaction that dampens their physical attraction or the rather bland staging of their France apartment, but this romance only flourishes wen it’s dead.

But beyond that, Casablanca is, obviously, fantastic. Boasting a surprisingly funny script for a film – especially a drama – of its vintage, it’s a very layered piece that combines a patriotic wartime morality play with one man’s romantic struggles, played out over the various dives and skeevy locales of the border town Casablanca. It drops iconic lines like Liza Minnelli sheds boa feathers, which is even more remarkable considering that it was just a cookie cutter studio picture with a script being constantly rewritten as they shot it.

It’s incessantly remarkable how well this film works, and especially how well it still holds up today. Its dynamic lighting scheme forgives even its most ludicrously stagey setpieces, and the actors imbue their characters with personalities that stretch far beyond the scope of the screen. I’m going to leave it at that, because nobody needs another film blogger yammering about Casablanca, but I’m definitely glad I watched it.

Rating: 8/10

Unfaithfully Yours

Year: 1984

Director: Howard Zieff

Cast: Dudley Moore, Nastassja Kinski, Armand Assante 

Run Time: 1 hour 36 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG

When a famous conductor suspects his much-younger wife of cheating, he hatches a plot to murder her and her supposed lover that goes wackily awry.

The 80’s were a weird time for comedy movies. Despite an abundance of classic teen movies and high concept comic gems, there was also a massive vein of throwaway flicks to beef up video store shelves. One of these is Unfaithfully Yours, which takes a sheaf of fairly well-respected actors and applies them to a sitcom premise stretched to an unfathomable length. While Unfaithfully Yours could have been a good Halloween episode of Three’s Company, the endless padding it requires to reach feature length makes the tone of the dark comedy go haywire.

This is a movie that couldn’t be made today, at least to its exact dimensions. It leans so heavily on chauvinism and misogyny to drive its main character’s motivations that hopefully anybody in 2016 would see right through Dudley Moore like they have X-ray eyes to find the spiteful goblin he really is. It is massively unpleasant to spend time with this character, who is willing to straight-up exterminate his wife over a series of misunderstandings. This type of storyline could be played for laughs if the tone was managed properly, as it is in the opening monologue of the film, but the script seems unwilling to admit that its protagonist is a genuinely awful person.

Instead of harnessing It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’s type of misanthropic comedy, Unfaithfully Yours takes a stab at Two and a Half Men by way of Alfred Hitchcock. Dudley Moore does a fine job of drawing physical humor from his character’s incompetence, but there’s only so much time I can spend with him before the film’s cheery attitude drives me to madness.

This scenario that has already run long endlessly unspools with an extended dream sequences that is then slavishly repeated in “reality.” It’s a tiresome tactic, but the really frustrating thing is that Unfaithfully Yours could have been truly great if it was a little less hammy and tipped more toward the darker, Death Becomes Her side of things.

Rating: 5/10

While We're Young

Year: 2014

Director: Noah Baumbach

Cast: Ben Stiller, Naomi Watts, Adam Driver 

Run Time: 1 hour 37 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

A bored middle-aged couple befriends a young hipster couple who give them a new lease on life, but not everything is as happy as it seems.

Don’t you just love comedy movies that don’t really have any jokes? Aren’t they just the best? Noah Baumbach certainly seems to think so. I suppose you might call While We’re Young a “dramedy,” but the drama half is so navel-gazey and the comedy half appears so infrequently that it’s just a “…” 

A too-obvious attempt at satirizing aging dreamers too afraid to commit to their goals and the self-conscious hipness of youth culture, While We’re Young undermines itself by constantly pointing out what it’s doing. Whether it’s a pointed, inauthentic echo plastered over a key dramatic line that made me laugh out loud or the endless epigraph that opens the film using practically an entire scene from a play (this also showcases Baumbach’s lack of control over his visuals), While We’re Young is so exuberantly excited to share its trite ideas that it smothers them.

It’s a shame, because when While We’re Young is funny, it can be damn hilarious. A potential investor played by Ryan Serhant is one of the best broad comedy characters in years, with the snappy line deliveries of a young man with too much confidence and too few brain cells. A lot of side characters and little moments shine here, at least justifying the “-edy” ahlf of the portmanteau after much effort. The most consistent comic element is probably Adam Driver, whose performance precisely captures the physicality of a twee, hopelessly pretentious hipster douche. Maybe the character isn’t too far form his wheelhouse, but it’s a genius bit of over-the-top nonverbal acting that goes a long way.

But other than that, While Were Young is a bit of a dud. Stiller and Watts, as the older couple, are appropriately bristly, but nobody outside of Driver and Serhant is doing standout work here. The nuggets of comedy buried in the film make slogging through the drama worth it, but I’ll be happy if I never even have to think about watching this film again.

Rating: 5/10

Word Count: 1211