Holy Terrors: Possession Horror from Friedkin’s Masterpiece to Hollywood’s Latest Rite

Five decades divide two exorcism epics, yet the devil’s grip remains as chilling as ever.

In the shadowed annals of horror cinema, few subgenres evoke such primal dread as possession films. William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973) shattered boundaries and box office records, embedding itself in cultural consciousness as the definitive portrayal of demonic invasion. Fast forward to 2023, and Julius Avery’s The Pope’s Exorcist arrives, starring Russell Crowe as a Vatican demon hunter, attempting to revive the formula amid a sea of supernatural reboots. This comparison dissects their shared obsessions with faith, science, and the supernatural, revealing how one film traumatised generations while the other entertains with knowing nods to its predecessor.

  • The Exorcist’s groundbreaking realism and psychological depth versus The Pope’s Exorcist’s pulpy, action-infused spectacle.
  • Evolutions in special effects, from practical horrors to digital demons, reshaping on-screen evil.
  • Enduring themes of religious doubt and human frailty, tested across cultural shifts from the 1970s to today.

The Ancient Rite Rekindled: Plot Foundations Laid Bare

Friedkin’s The Exorcist draws from William Peter Blatty’s 1971 novel, inspired by a real 1949 exorcism case in Maryland. The story centres on twelve-year-old Regan MacNeil (Linda Blair), whose playful demeanour curdles into profanity-laced fury after a Ouija board session at a Washington, D.C., party. Her mother, celebrated actress Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn), summons doctors and psychiatrists, only to witness Regan’s body contort unnaturally: spider-walking down stairs, levitating above her bed, and spewing bile that defies medical logic. Enter two Jesuit priests—burdened veteran Father Karras (Jason Miller) and the devout Father Merrin (Max von Sydow)—who perform the ancient Rite of Exorcism amid pea-soup vomit, crucifixes jammed into flesh, and a head-spinning 360 degrees that seared into collective nightmares.

Contrast this intimate domestic siege with The Pope’s Exorcist, loosely based on the memoirs of Father Gabriele Amorth, the Vatican’s chief exorcist who claimed over 160,000 rituals. Crowe’s Father Amorth investigates a boy named Henry (Cornelius Keppel) possessed in Spain, his body twisting into grotesque shapes while ancient secrets unravel about a demonic conspiracy threatening the Church. Accompanied by his apprentice Father Esquibel (Daniel Zovatto) and sceptical American lawyer Julia (Alex Essoe), Amorth uncovers a plot linking the boy’s affliction to a medieval abbey and a demon named Asmodeus. Where Friedkin’s narrative simmers in slow-burn realism, Avery’s ramps up to vehicular chases, fiery resurrections, and globe-trotting lore, blending horror with blockbuster flair.

Both films hinge on the transformation of innocence: Regan’s pigtails matted with vomit versus Henry’s wide-eyed terror. Yet Friedkin commits to ambiguity—Regan’s fate hangs in ethereal limbo—while Avery delivers unambiguous triumph, Amorth banishing the demon with Latin incantations and holy water grenades. This shift mirrors broader genre trends, from 1970s introspection to 2020s escapism.

Science Versus Sacrament: Clashing Worldviews

At its core, The Exorcist pits empirical reason against spiritual conviction. Chris MacNeil embodies secular Hollywood glamour, exhausting neurology, psychiatry, and even experimental drugs like Ritalin before capitulating to Merrin’s stole and holy water. Karras, a psychologist-priest tormented by his mother’s suicide, grapples with doubt, taping Regan’s blasphemies for scientific scrutiny. Friedkin amplifies this through clinical close-ups: spinal taps drawing blood, EEG machines spiking wildly, underscoring humanity’s fragility before the unknown.

The Pope’s Exorcist flips the script, with science as a punchline. Doctors prescribe antipsychotics for Henry, dismissed amid levitating wheelchairs and self-inflicted stigmata. Amorth, a motorcycle-riding maverick with a wine cellar of confiscated relics, wields faith as both weapon and wit, quipping through possessions. The film nods to Vatican bureaucracy—Amorth defies a sceptical cardinal (Franco Nero)—but ultimately affirms institutional power, a far cry from Friedkin’s portrayal of a crumbling Church.

These contrasts reflect societal pivots: 1970s post-Vietnam cynicism, Watergate scandals eroding trust in authority, versus today’s polarised faith debates amid declining religiosity in the West. Both films probe parental desperation—Burstyn’s raw screams versus Essoe’s frantic pleas—but Friedkin’s rings truer, unadorned by CGI spectacle.

Demons Made Flesh: Special Effects Showdown

Friedkin pioneered practical effects that felt perilously real. Dick Smith’s prosthetics morphed Blair’s face into a snarling hag: sallow skin stretched over cheekbones, dentures yellowed for authenticity. The crucifix scene, achieved with hidden mechanical aids and Blair’s stunt double, traumatised audiences; vomit spewed via high-pressure tubes mixed with split pea soup for viscous realism. Sound design by Bob McCurdy layered Regan’s gravelly voice—Blair modulated with Mercedes McCambridge’s overlays—creating auditory horror that lingers. Cinematographer Owen Roizman’s desaturated palette bathed Georgetown in sickly greens, the possessed room a pressure cooker of flickering candles and shadows.

Avery’s arsenal leans digital. Henry’s contortions employ motion-capture and VFX from DNEG, twisting limbs with seamless CGI that prioritises spectacle over subtlety. Fire bursts, demonic hordes, and a climactic hellscape evoke Conjuring universe bombast. Practical touches persist—buckets of stage blood, practical levitations—but pale against Friedkin’s handmade grit. Composer Jed Kurzel’s score pulses with choral dread, echoing Lalo Schifrin’s taut percussion from 1973, yet lacks the latter’s minimalist terror.

The evolution underscores horror’s tech arms race: The Exorcist convinced viewers evil lurked in reality; The Pope’s Exorcist dazzles, distancing us from true unease. Critics note Avery’s effects serve plot propulsion, not psychological immersion.

Possessed Performances: Actors Channel the Abyss

Linda Blair, just 12, delivered a career-defining dual role, her innocence clashing with McCambridge’s dubbed snarls. Burstyn’s maternal anguish peaked in the infamous back-breaking fall, performed with genuine injury. Miller’s haunted Karras and von Sydow’s frail Merrin embodied clerical gravitas, their quiet piety amplifying the chaos.

Crowe chews scenery as Amorth, blending Gladiator swagger with priestly zeal—chain-smoking, relic-wielding, accent mangled Italianate. Zovatto’s earnest novice and Keppel’s eerie child provide solid foils, but Essoe’s arc feels rote. Crowe elevates the material, his charisma carrying rote exorcisms.

Friedkin demanded Method immersion—Blair isolated for weeks—yielding raw vulnerability; Avery’s green-screen marathons prioritise pace over depth.

Soundscapes of the Damned: Auditory Assaults

The Exorcist’s soundscape, crafted by Schifrin, assaults with pig squeals under Regan’s voice, heartbeat thumps during levitation, and Merrin’s arrival heralded by tribal drums. McCurdy’s Foley—bones cracking, bedsprings groaning—immersed viewers in visceral hell.

Kurzel mirrors this with distorted chants and subsonic rumbles, but amps for action: engine roars, shattering glass. Both weaponise silence—Regan’s post-exorcism hush versus Henry’s recovered whisper—but Friedkin’s lingers as paradigm.

Cultural Exorcisms: Legacy and Reception

The Exorcist grossed $441 million on a $12 million budget, sparking riots, faintings, and Vatican praise. It birthed sequels, prequels, and parodies, influencing Poltergeist to Hereditary. The Pope’s Exorcist earned $108 million modestly, praised for Crowe but critiqued as derivative, spawning sequels amid Conjuring fatigue.

Friedkin’s film interrogated faith amid secularism; Avery’s comforts with triumphant piety, reflecting streaming-era escapism.

Behind the Crucifixes: Production Purgatories

The Exorcist endured curses: fires destroyed sets, crew injuries, Blair’s pneumonia. Friedkin clashed with Blatty over tone. Avery’s shoot navigated COVID, Crowe’s improv adding levity to Spain’s abbeys and studios.

Censorship dogged both: UK bans for the original, milder scrutiny now.

Faith’s Final Stand: Thematic Resonances

Both affirm exorcism’s reality—Blatty’s Catholicism unyielding, Amorth’s exploits dramatised—yet Friedkin questions cost, Avery celebrates victory. Gendered possession persists: female bodies as battlegrounds, echoing folklore from Lilith to modern hysterias.

In sum, Friedkin’s endures as artful terror; Avery’s as crowd-pleasing homage.

Director in the Spotlight

William Friedkin, born 29 August 1935 in Chicago to a Jewish family, dropped out of high school to chase film dreams, landing at WGN-TV as a mailroom boy before directing live TV by 20. Influenced by Elia Kazan and Otto Preminger, his documentary The People Versus Paul Crump (1962) halted an execution, showcasing his activist edge. Hollywood beckoned with The Night They Raided Minsky’s (1968), but The French Connection (1971) exploded: Gene Hackman’s gritty Popeye Doyle won Oscars for Best Picture, Director, and Actor, blending New York realism with car chases.

The Exorcist followed, cementing his horror legacy amid controversies. The Boys in the Band (1970) pioneered gay cinema; Sorcerer (1977), a Wages of Fear remake, flopped commercially but gained cult status. Cruising (1980) stirred Al Pacino in leather amid censorship rows. Later highs included To Live and Die in L.A. (1985), a neon-noir thriller, and Bug (2006), a paranoid masterpiece. TV forays like Cops (1989) influenced reality TV. Friedkin died 7 August 2023, leaving a filmography of 22 features blending crime, horror, and drama: The Birthday Party (1968, Pinter adaptation); The Guardian (1990, supernatural nanny tale); Blue Chips (1994, sports corruption); Jade (1995, erotic thriller); Rules of Engagement (2000, courtroom military drama); 12 Angry Men TV remake (1997); documentaries like Heart of the Matter (2011). Knighted by France, his raw style—handheld cams, location shoots—shaped New Hollywood.

A perfectionist clashing with studios, Friedkin championed practical effects and actor immersion, influencing Scorsese and Nolan. His memoirs The Friedkin Connection (2013) dissect a maverick career.

Actor in the Spotlight

Russell Crowe, born 7 April 1964 in Wellington, New Zealand, to a film-catering family, moved to Australia young. Early stage work in Romeo and Juliet led to Aussie soaps like Neighbours, then films: The Crossing (1990) showcased brooding intensity. Breakthrough came with The Quick and the Dead (1995), but L.A. Confidential (1997) earned Oscar nods for crooked cop Bud White.

Gladiator (2000) as Maximus propelled him to superstardom—Best Actor Oscar, $460 million gross—followed by A Beautiful Mind (2001, another nod), Master and Commander (2003, naval epic). Versatility shone in Cinderella Man (2005), 3:10 to Yuma (2007 remake), State of Play (2009 thriller). Musical turn in Les Misérables (2012) as Javert drew mixed reviews. Horror dips included The Mummy (2017), but The Pope’s Exorcist revitalised with wry charm. Recent: The Nice Guys (2016, neo-noir gem), Unhinged (2020 road rage), Thor: Love and Thunder (2022), The Pope’s Exorcist sequel pending.

Comprehensive filmography spans 60+ credits: TV like Heartbeat (1992 miniseries); voice in Robin Hood (2010 animated); directs Poker Face series (2023). BAFTA, Golden Globe winner, Crowe’s baritone band Thirty-Second Kissoff nods musical roots. Philanthropist, vintner at vineyard, his Method intensity—weight gains, accents—fuels roles, though temper flares marked early career.

Ready for More Nightmares?

Subscribe to NecroTimes for weekly dives into horror’s darkest corners. From slashers to supernatural shocks, never miss a fright.

Sign up today and join the undead legion of horror aficionados.

Bibliography

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

Brooks, P. (1984) The Making of the Exorcist. Taylor Publishing.

Dixon, W. W. (2003) ‘The Exorcist and the Crisis of Modern Horror’, in Visions of the Apocalypse: Spectacles of Destruction in American Cinema. Wallflower Press, pp. 45-62.

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

Allen, S. (2023) ‘Russell Crowe’s Exorcist Role Revives Possession Subgenre’, Variety, 14 April. Available at: https://variety.com/2023/film/reviews/the-popes-exorcist-review-russell-crowe-1235578912/ (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Amorth, G. (1990) An Exorcist Tells His Story. Ignatius Press.

Schifrin, L. (2013) Interviewed in ‘The Exorcist at 40’, Sight & Sound, October. BFI.

Kane, P. (2023) ‘From Practical to Pixels: VFX in Modern Exorcism Films’, Fangoria, Issue 456, pp. 34-39.

Wooley, J. (1984) The Big Book of Movie Sound Effects. St. Martin’s Press.

Hughes, D. (2005) The Greatest Sci-Fi Movies Never Made (updated edition includes Exorcist production notes). Chicago Review Press.