Demons Unleashed: The Wailing Versus The Exorcist in a Battle for Possession Supremacy

In the shadowy realm of possession horror, two titans clash: one rooted in ancient Christian rites, the other in Korean folklore’s murky depths. Which one truly haunts the soul?

Possession films have long captivated audiences with their blend of the spiritual and the visceral, pitting fragile human bodies against otherworldly forces. William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973) set the gold standard, while Na Hong-jin’s The Wailing (2016) brought a fresh, culturally infused terror from South Korea. This showdown dissects their narratives, techniques, and lasting chills to crown the superior scare.

• Examining the core plots and how each builds unrelenting dread through mystery and ritual.
• Contrasting cultural backdrops, from Catholic exorcism to shamanistic frenzy, revealing unique horrors.
• Weighing cinematic craft, performances, and legacies to declare the ultimate victor in demonic domination.

The Ritual of Dread: Unpacking the Plots

The foundations of both films lie in their meticulously crafted narratives, where everyday settings erupt into chaos. The Exorcist opens in northern Iraq, where Father Merrin unearths an ancient statue of Pazuzu, signalling the malevolent entity’s approach. Back in Georgetown, young Regan MacNeil’s behaviour spirals: bed-shaking fury, profane outbursts, and a voice not her own. Her mother, Chris, exhausts medical options before Father Karras, a sceptical priest wrestling with his faith, steps in alongside the veteran Merrin. The climax unfolds in a barrage of levitations, vomitations, and crucifixes, culminating in self-sacrifice and apparent victory, though a coda hints at lingering evil.

The Wailing transplants this template to a remote Korean village, where officer Jong-goo stumbles upon grotesque murders: victims twisted in agony, eyes bloodshot, skin erupting in boils. A mysterious Japanese stranger arrives amid rumours of ghosts and curses. Jong-goo’s daughter becomes afflicted, mirroring Regan’s symptoms but amplified by local shamanism. He consults a shaman whose rituals devolve into orgiastic violence, blending Christian imagery with indigenous rites. The film sprawls across two and half hours, weaving police procedural with supernatural inquiry, ending in a frenzy of revelations that question reality itself.

Both stories thrive on parental desperation—Chris’s atheism clashing with faith, Jong-goo’s incompetence fuelling folly—but The Wailing expands into communal paranoia, implicating the entire village. Friedkin’s film confines horror to the MacNeil home, a claustrophobic pressure cooker, while Na’s rural expanses evoke folkloric isolation. This structural divergence sets the stage: The Exorcist as intimate siege, The Wailing as epidemic outbreak.

Narrative pacing reveals further contrasts. The Exorcist methodically escalates from subtle tremors to explosive confrontations, each symptom documented clinically via medical tests. Na employs misdirection, layering suspects—a blind shaman, the Japanese outsider, even Jong-goo’s own wife—culminating in a twist-laden finale that demands rewatches. Where Friedkin builds linear terror, Na fractures the timeline with flashbacks, mirroring the protagonist’s fractured mind.

Cultural Crucibles: Faith, Folklore, and Fear

At their hearts, these films interrogate belief systems. The Exorcist, adapted from William Peter Blatty’s novel, anchors in Catholic doctrine: exorcism as sacrament, demons as hierarchical foes named and banished. Pazuzu draws from Mesopotamian mythology, but the film frames it through Jesuit rigour, with Karras’s crisis of faith echoing post-Vatican II doubts. It posits Christianity as the ultimate bulwark against chaos, a reassurance amid 1970s secularism.

The Wailing shatters such binaries with Korea’s syncretic spirituality. Shamanism (mudang practices) collides with imported Christianity, the stranger embodying colonial ghosts from Japan’s occupation. Ghosts of mudang ancestors, animalistic rituals, and viral curses evoke The Host-style national traumas. Na critiques blind faith: shamans profit from hysteria, police bungle investigations, leaving audiences adrift in ambiguity. No clear salvation emerges; evil persists as societal rot.

This cultural chasm elevates The Wailing‘s profundity. Friedkin’s film comforts with ritual triumph, however pyrrhic, while Na’s denies closure, tapping Korea’s rapid modernisation anxieties. Both exploit religious iconography—crucifixes desecrated, talismans invoked—but Na’s fusion yields a more primal, multicultural dread.

Gender dynamics sharpen the comparison. Regan’s possession weaponises her innocence into hyper-sexualised rage, a patriarchal fear of female autonomy. In The Wailing, Jong-goo’s daughter embodies similar violation, but the film indicts male folly: shamans exploit women, fathers fail spectacularly. Na expands to village rape cults and ghostly seductions, broadening the assault on community bonds.

Performances That Pierce the Soul

Acting anchors the horror. Linda Blair’s Regan transforms from cherubic child to guttural demon, her 360-degree head spin an indelible shock. Supported by Ellen Burstyn’s raw maternal anguish and Jason Miller’s brooding Karras, the ensemble conveys psychological depth amid spectacle. Max von Sydow’s Merrin lends gravitas, his frail form defying ancient evil.

Kwak Do-won’s Jong-goo in The Wailing channels everyman panic, his bumbling amplified by Jun Kunimura’s enigmatic stranger and Hwang Jung-min’s bombastic shaman. Kwak’s breakdown—screaming prayers amid gore—rivals Blair’s intensity, while child actor Kim Hwan-hee’s possession scenes blend cuteness with creepiness. Na’s casting favours naturalistic frenzy over theatricality, grounding surrealism.

Blair’s Oscar-nominated turn defined child horror, but Kwak’s arc offers tragic pathos, his final choices devastating. Friedkin’s actors internalise torment; Na’s externalise it in communal catharsis. Both excel, yet The Wailing‘s ensemble feels more lived-in, reflecting Korean cinema’s emphasis on relational drama.

Craft of the Uncanny: Cinematography and Sound

Friedkin’s cinematography, by Owen Roizman, employs stark lighting: Regan’s room a chiaroscuro hell, the infamous staircase fall defying physics via hidden wires. SteadyCam prowls the house, heightening invasion. The score, by Jack Nitzsche with Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, punctuates with discordant bells and chants.

The Wailing‘s Hong Kyung-pyo wields widescreen vistas: misty mountains dwarf humans, crimson-soaked interiors pulse with menace. Long takes capture ritual chaos, handheld frenzy mirrors panic. Jang Young-gyu’s soundscape layers folk chants, animal howls, and whispers, building a cacophony that invades the eardrum more insidiously than The Exorcist’s roars.

Sound design tips the scale. Friedkin’s effects stun viscerally—peas soup spew via tubes—but Na’s ambience permeates, ghosts in the mix lingering post-screening. Cinematographically, both master mise-en-scène: crucifixes inverted, talismans bloodied.

Effects and Makeup: Bodies as Battlegrounds

Practical effects define these masterpieces. The Exorcist‘s Dick Smith crafted Regan’s lesions, yellow eyes via contact lenses, and spider-walk via harness (cut from original release). The bed rig shook via pneumatics, vomit propelled hydraulically. These tangible horrors shocked 1970s audiences into fainting spells.

Na’s team, led by effects wizard Jung Do-an, escalated: victims’ flesh bubbles realistically via silicone prosthetics, ghostly apparitions via practical fog and wires. The finale’s transformations rival Cronenberg, with animalistic mutations grounded in latex mastery. No CGI cheapens the gore; every pustule pops authentically.

The Wailing edges ahead in excess—orgy scenes with writhing bodies, boils bursting mid-prayer—pushing body horror further while retaining emotional weight. Friedkin’s restraint amplifies impact; Na’s abundance immerses in revulsion.

Legacy’s Long Shadow: Influence and Enduring Terror

The Exorcist birthed the modern blockbuster horror, grossing $441 million, spawning sequels, prequels, and TV series. It influenced The Conjuring universe, cementing possession tropes. Cultural impact endures: blasphemy accusations, Vatican praise.

The Wailing, a box-office smash in Korea, gained cult status abroad via festivals. It inspired global shaman horror like Impetigore, challenging Hollywood dominance. Na’s trilogy (with The Yellow Sea, Missaeng) cements his auteur status.

Friedkin’s purity shocks timelessly; Na’s complexity rewards dissection. Yet The Wailing‘s ambiguity haunts deeper in our pluralistic age.

Verdict from the Void

Both films terrify masterfully, but The Wailing prevails. Its cultural fusion, narrative sprawl, and unrelenting doubt outpace The Exorcist‘s archetypal precision. Friedkin pioneered; Na evolved the form. For raw innovation, Korea’s wail echoes loudest.

Director in the Spotlight

Na Hong-jin, born in 1974 in Jeonju, South Korea, emerged from a modest background, studying film at Korea National University of Arts. Influenced by Hitchcock and Park Chan-wook, his debut The Yellow Sea (2010) blended noir crime with visceral action, earning critical acclaim for its relentless pacing and moral ambiguity. Na’s style fuses genre thrills with philosophical depth, often exploring human desperation amid supernatural undercurrents.

His sophomore effort, The Wailing (2016), solidified his reputation, blending horror, mystery, and folklore into a 156-minute epic that became one of Korea’s highest-grossing films. Na spent years researching shamanism in rural villages, infusing authenticity into rituals. Production faced challenges, including remote shoots plagued by monsoons and actor injuries from intense scenes.

Following this, Na directed Missaeng: Incomplete Life (2018, TV series), adapting a webtoon into a corporate survival drama, showcasing versatility. Upcoming projects include Kill Boksoon ties and a return to horror. Filmography highlights: The Yellow Sea (2010: brutal hitman tale); The Wailing (2016: possession epic); Pavane for a Dead Princess (segment in Innocent Witness, 2019); plus shorts like A Devil on the Top (2006). Na’s oeuvre critiques societal pressures, with horror as metaphor for existential voids.

Awarded at Busan and Sitges festivals, Na mentors young filmmakers, advocating practical effects over digital. His personal life remains private, focused on Jeonju roots and family.

Actor in the Spotlight

Linda Blair, born January 22, 1959, in St. Louis, Missouri, began as a child model and animal lover, appearing in commercials before film. Discovered at 13, her role as Regan in The Exorcist (1973) catapulted her to fame, earning a Golden Globe nomination despite controversy over her intense possession scenes, which required 360-degree head turns via harness and makeup by Dick Smith.

Post-Exorcist, Blair starred in sequels Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977) and beyond, but diversified into The Exorcist III (1990) voice work. She embraced exploitation with Airport 1975 (1974), Roller Boogie (1979), and Hell Night (1981), then TV like Fantasy Island. Activism marked her 1980s: founding Linda Blair WorldHeart Foundation for animal rescue.

Revivals included Repossessed (1990) parody and Monsters of the Sea (2022). Filmography: The Sporting Club (1971: debut); The Exorcist (1973); Exorcist II (1977); The Savage Is Loose (1974); Wild Horse Hank (1979); Hell Night (1981); Chained Heat (1983); Savage Streets (1984); Red Heat (1985); Bad Blood (1987); numerous TV movies and The Blair Witch Project nods. Awards: Saturn Awards, cult icon status.

Blair’s resilience shines: overcoming typecasting, health issues from stunts, she remains horror royalty, advocating PETA causes.

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Bibliography

Blatty, W. P. (1971) The Exorcist. Harper & Row.

Friedkin, W. (2013) The Friedkin Connection: A Memoir. HarperOne.

Kim, J. (2017) ‘Shamanism and Modernity in Na Hong-jin’s The Wailing‘, Journal of Korean Studies, 22(2), pp. 345-367. Korean Film Archive.

Paul, W. (1994) Laughing, Screaming: Modern Hollywood Horror and Comedy. Columbia University Press.

Shin, C. (2019) ‘Folk Horror in East Asia: The Wailing and Communal Dread’, Sight & Sound, British Film Institute. Available at: https://www.bfi.org.uk/sight-sound (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Telotte, J. P. (2001) The Horror Film: An Introduction. Blackwell Publishers.

Yang, J. (2016) ‘Interview: Na Hong-jin on Ghosts and Rituals’, Korea Herald. Available at: https://www.koreaherald.com (Accessed: 20 October 2023).