Ever since The Exorcist recognized the potential of demonic forces and opened
up a whole new territory of dread — familiarly known as Hell on Earth —
which the makers of horror flicks quickly explored, Satan in one manifestation
or another became a frequent menace in the form.
The devil and/or his assistants
inhabit a number of significant films, including the several sequels to The Exorcist itself, the Omen series (apparently about to be
remade), The Sentinel, and all those Amityville Horrors. The presence of the
Prince of Darkness also for the first time established the priest as the
appropriate adversary, essentially creating the sacramental or Roman Catholic
horror film.
The latest in that fascinating
subgenre, The Exorcism of Emily Rose,
adds a new twist in its combination of theology with jurisprudence. Apparently
based on an actual charge and trial, the movie sets its central action in a
courtroom, where a priest, Father Moore (Tom Wilkinson, who’s worn the Roman
collar before), accused of negligent homicide, must defend his failed exorcism
of the young woman of the title, which the prosecutor (Campbell Scott) claims
caused her death.
A bright, highly sensitive,
19-year-old college student, Emily (Jennifer Carpenter) manifests mysterious
symptoms, including auditory and visual hallucinations, severe convulsions, and
periodic catatonia, which a neurologist diagnoses as epileptic psychosis and
treats with a powerful drug. Emily believes she actually suffers a demonic
possession and Father Moore’s archdiocese allows him to perform the ritual of
exorcism.
The mystery of her condition and the
uncertainties surrounding her death, which account for the charges against the
priest, also allow the witnesses and the defendant to narrate their versions of
the story in flashbacks in the customary manner of cinematic courtroom
storytelling.
Perhaps because of its original
source and the ambiguous circumstances, the picture omits the traditional
devices of modern horror — this exorcism avoids the levitation, the
projectile vomiting, and the rotating head that made Linda Blair immortal. Its
demons speak their devilish taunts in many tongues, including Latin, Greek,
Hebrew, and Aramaic; the prosecutor maintains the victim, a college freshman,
learned them in advanced catechism, perhaps the least credible item in the
movie, since they don’t even teach those languages in most seminaries these
days. The quasi-documentary nature of the testimony and the narratives, and the
low-key approach to the menace itself impart to the film a kind of sincerity lacking
in most examples of its form.
Aside from the usual seesaw rhythm
and the obvious editing tricks of the cinematic courtroom, with various
witnesses contradicting each other and offering several versions of a single
truth, and the familiar dialectic of prosecution and defense, unlike other
trial movies, this one shows many moments of menace and fright. In the usual
manner of the form, the priest’s attorney, Erin Bruner (Laura Linney), occupies
a more important position than the defendant, undergoing something of a
spiritual journey in the process of the trial.
An avowed agnostic, she suffers
several moments of terror from the same sort of vague visitation that both
Emily Rose and Father Moore experience, and discovers that even someone without
faith must concede the possibility of the supernatural.
Like far too many movies, The Exorcism of Emily Rose never full
exploits the possibilities of its subject and story, settling instead for a
rather drab and undramatic resolution. Its source in actual events, again, may
account for its downplaying of any potentially spectacular material, but the
writers and the director may also consciously strive for a resolutely
unsensational approach in order to emphasize the picture’s authenticity.
In keeping with the action, the
lighting, and the tone of the movie, just about all the performers in the cast
demonstrate a uniformly low-key approach to their roles. Both Tom Wilkinson and
Laura Linney underplay even the most potentially dramatic moments of their
characters’ experience, maintaining a resolutely ordinary style while
delivering some quite unusual lines or confronting some frightening and
extraordinary event.
If it sometimes appears to dilute the
emotional possibilities of some of the film’s important moments, the competent
consistency of their approach conforms perfectly with its manner and matter.
Finally, whatever its deficiencies, The Exorcism of Emily Rose provides
another useful example of the possibilities of its form and an appropriate
addition to the sacramental horror film.
As I have pointed out in the past,
when the devil comes to visit, most people, whatever their faith or lack of it,
don’t choose to discuss liberal theology with him or flash a picture of Ralph
Nader; they want the priest, the vestments, the holy water, the crucifix, the
Latin, the Sacred Host, bell, book, and candle.
Science and reason, as the movie
suggests, offer little protection against the dark power of a pure and
irrational evil.
The Exorcism of Emily Rose (PG-13), directed by Scott
Derrickson, is playing at Canandaigua Theatres, Culver Ridge 16, Eastview Mall
13, Geneseo Theatres, Greece Ridge 12, Henrietta 18, Tinseltown, Vintage
Drive-In, Webster 12
This article appears in Sep 14-20, 2005.
