The Exorcist: Believer (2023)

Score: 3 / 5

How do you take something universally regarded as one of the most foundational, terrifying, and iconic cultural productions of all time and, several decades later, attempt to generate a fresh, direct sequel as the start of a new trilogy? There's no simple answer, but David Gordon Green seems determined to make legacy sequels his thing. He did it with Halloween, Halloween Kills, and Halloween Ends, a trilogy I dearly love and look forward to revisiting in a few weeks (it's also notable that Halloween II and H20 are also excellent parts of the series, and that I have no intention of ever watching any of the other installments or iterations again). And now he's doing something similar with The Exorcist, now in its 50th anniversary year, launching Believer as the start of a new legacy trilogy that ignores all of the other sequels. And while the infamous first sequel is not one I enjoy, there are significant and fascinating points to be made for The Exorcist III, Exorcist: The Beginning, and Dominion. I also strongly recommend the two-season series of The Exorcist, which aired on FOX from 2016-2018; a sort of legacy sequel in its own right, its brilliance and technical acumen makes it one of my favorite horror series and I very much hope that, at some point during Green's trilogy, he pays homage to it. Because it's great.

But so far, Green seems to be doing his own thing, for better or worse. This film, written seemingly by committee, tries to do a whole heck of a lot, and most of it makes for a fun time at the cinema. During the first half, which mostly serves to set up the premise and raise its own stakes, I was totally enraptured. Its slow pace and emotional introductions to characters reminded me more than a bit of Friedkin's original, to say nothing of the editing and sound editing and even some cinematography, all of which feel true to form from the original. Clearly these filmmakers have done their homework and are trying to make a spiritual and aesthetic sister-film to the 1973 classic.

I don't want to focus too much on plot, but it bears mentioning that the film starts off without clear ties to demons or possession at all, much like the original. There is a disturbing opening event in a distant country again, but that doesn't really add much to the mythos. The first half sets itself up as more of a mystery than anything else, and I quite liked that, though I'd have preferred something more along the lines of Prisoners or Picnic at Hanging Rock if we were going that route. During these scenes, the film's use of silence and negative space make for occasionally eerie moments that force us to wonder if there is already evil at work in the lives of our main characters.

As far as characters go, nothing can really match the Chris and Regan MacNeil dynamic (nor that of Merrin and Karras, for that matter), but there are some intriguing faces. Victor (Leslie Odom, Jr.) is the protagonist, whose past haunts him: his pregnant wife was killed during an earthquake on vacation in Haiti, though her child was saved. In the present, Victor is a great father to Angela (Lydia Jewett), though flashbacks and an eventual climactic revelation will throw it all into dramatic levels we didn't quite expect. Their relationship is pretty great; everyone else in the film feels shoved in, cobbled together, and largely forgettable, sadly. The young teenager Angela and her best friend Katherine (Olivia O'Neill) go on a "study break" after school, when they sneak into the woods and attempt to communicate with a spirit (presumably Angela's mother). When they disappear, Victor and the other girl's Catholic parents (Jennifer Nettles and Norbert Leo Butz) collide as they attempt to mount search parties and support each other.

I got excited when more characters were introduced who are not Catholic. Given the uptick in possession films in non-Catholic contexts, which has been lovely, it makes sense for an Exorcist in this day and age to be more interfaith. To that end, there's a nice fine line drawn between what this movie is setting out to do as opposed to other Catholic exorcism movies of late that seem to opt for the Grand Guignol approach to theatricality (think of The Nun and The Pope's Exorcist). Here, Green and his team seem more interested in the psychological and spiritual approach to the story and characters, resulting in a climax of interfaith religious leaders working together to fight the demonic force possessing the young girls. Over the course of the film, we see a female priest, a former nun (an underused Ann Dowd), a fearful padre, and even a witch doctor of sorts (Okwui Okpokwasili), all of whom join up to fight Pazuzu on multiple theological fronts. Multiple, that is, until the end of the climax, when it all boils down to pretty clearly Christian language. I had hoped for more and better, so let's hope the writers come up with something a little different next time.

Then there's Chris MacNeil, played again by Ellen Burstyn, who is utterly wasted in this film. She's brought in oddly as a sort of legacy aid, by virtue of her having published a book on her experience decades ago. As fallout from that, her daughter Regan has gone into hiding and cut off communication. But Chris seems willing enough to help Victor and Angela, so she leaves her oceanside retreat to engage with the devil yet again. When she arrives, she's treated like Father Merrin reincarnated, as if she's a spiritually battle-hardened champion ready to cast out her nemesis. It makes little to no sense, and the frail old woman is quickly subdued by the demon. One wonders how she'll be used moving forward, because this was pretty pathetic, and I'd say fairly insulting to a character (and actor) we all so dearly love.

Critiquing the first part in a planned trilogy is difficult, especially one meant to cater to fans of an original fifty years prior, because we simply don't know the big picture yet. But for what it is, Believer is a lot of fun on its own terms. I'd say it's a refreshingly solid -- grounded -- entry in the genre, one that prefers realism to gonzo spectacle. There are about two moments of CGI that prove paranormal activity, and I fundamentally disagreed with their inclusion in this film, but for the most part it's all pretty reasonable. Better use of legacy characters will be crucial moving forward, but at least Linda Blair might be back for that. And I hope that the next two movies more fully develop their thematic concerns, whether about various faith approaches to possession and exorcism or about how emotional connections to each other can help us resist evil and heal from trauma. Obviously two incredibly well-meaning priests saved Regan but weren't strong enough to defeat Pazuzu before; we'll need something better this time around.

Frankly, I wish this series would have more in common with the short-lived television series, whether by including those characters, continuing those plotlines, or adopting those themes and aesthetic. It's unlikely, but it might stop my head from spinning and squirting pea soup.

Luce (2019)

Score: 3.5 / 5

It's the sort of character-heavy drama you go see live theatre for. It's essentially a chamber piece for a handful of talented actors to bounce off each other. Their material: half a dozen hot-topic sociopolitical issues that are as timely as they are timeless. And while, as a film, everything feels a little diluted here, the screenplay seems determined to help you feel as connected to these characters as you would in the same room, breathing the same air. It's an admirable project, one that most compares to last year's The Seagull in style and efficacy.

Kelvin Harrison Jr. steals the movie as the leading player, the titular Luce. He was adopted, we learn, by white Americans and rescued from being a child soldier in Eritrea, since which time he has apparently gone through lots of psychotherapy. Now a star student and star athlete, loved by everyone at his high school, he is a sort of poster child for the American Dream. He's the valedictorian, and we see him delivering moving speeches to his classmates and mentors. He's also far smarter than lots of folks give him credit for, and he too has a dark side; Luce's secrets take his community by storm when they are revealed, and his vengeful fantasy has only just begun.

At least, that's one way to read the film. Another way is as a damning indictment of older folks -- "okay, boomers" -- who are too obsessed with labels and ideologies to see the real people they're categorizing. Luce is a lot of great things, but that doesn't make him a great person. And so when Harriet Wilson, one of his teachers (played by Octavia Spencer), finds one of his papers disturbing, she immediately voices her concerns. To be fair, the assignment is a bit problematic, and someone as smart as Luce would surely jump at the opportunity to stretch his own perspective in writing it. But Ms. Wilson takes things pretty far in order to intercept what she sees as Luce's dangerous interests, searching his locker under ethically ambiguous pretenses and getting his mother (Naomi Watts) involved.

The film deals with largely unspoken ideas, and it gets more complicated when a central motif of the screenplay is that of coded language. At one point, during a parent-teacher conference that looks more like an intervention, Luce -- ever the diplomat -- calls Ms. Wilson "strict" or something to that effect when what he really means is "bitch," which even his father is aware enough to sense. And we feel the same way: she is a strict teacher, which is good, but she also overstepped her bounds and violated Luce's privacy. Then again, as much as I think we are meant to identify/sympathize with Luce, it's never quite clear whether he is too smart and more than a little sociopathic. He certainly has great answers to the adults' questions, answers that sound pre-planned and quite convenient. And it seems unlikely that someone so smart and well-liked would allow himself to be put in such compromising situations. Plus, there's that final shot, which features Luce running toward the camera with a look of completely unreadable hostility.

And for all I loved about this movie, there is enough potentially problematic material that I'm not sure anyone should watch this movie unless they're prepared for some really tough questions about representation, socially responsible storytelling, and the balance between artistic purpose and artistic integrity. For example, Ms. Wilson's mentally ill sister appears in a couple scenes and is brutally exploited in one, for seemingly little reason except to round out part of Ms. Wilson's character and invite the topic of mental illness. Similarly, one of Luce's friends -- and his sometime girlfriend, we learn -- Stephanie Kim was sexually molested by other high school boys before Luce saved her, and now she's basically a tool for the film to briefly touch on the #MeToo movement. And of course there's Luce's parents, who are dangerously close to being iconic white saviors; in one of his speeches, Luce proudly tells the story of how they named him "Luce" because they couldn't pronounce his African name. It's nauseating, and probably indicative of Luce's ulterior motives, but I think it's intentionally so.

The problem is, it's not clear what the filmmakers are really saying about these issues, other than simply introducing them as topics for debate. And I'm not sure that's enough for a quality film.