The Exorcist (1973)

What can I possibly say about The Exorcist that hasn't already been said?  I don't even have a memorable story to tell about the first time I saw it.  I know it was very controversial and, because I was underage at 10-years old, my dad had to accompany me to see it when it was released in 1973.  But, it didn't really make a lasting impression on me and has never been one of my favorite movies.  In fact, I felt almost like I had to watch it for my Countdown to Halloween, because it is undoubtedly one of the landmark films of the 1970s.  No body of work about horror movies of the 70s can neglect it.

I watched The Exorcist recently, as I did all the movies that are subjects on my blog this month, and learned three things about it that I had either forgotten or I did not realize.  First of all, regardless of genre, it is an excellent movie!  Second, while it is definitely an intense and disturbing movie, I don't know that it's a particularly scary movie.  Third, maybe (as I've sometimes read) The Exorcist isn't really a horror movie at all.  Please allow me to elaborate upon these three points.

The Exorcist is an excellent movie!

Due to its reputation, my opinion of The Exorcist developed during the years that I never actually watched the movie.  It wasn't one I watched over and over again.  I understood it to be a classic horror movie, a must-see for anyone who loves the genre.  When I watched it recently, though, I realized that whether or not that's what it is, it is also an expertly made movie.  Does anyone remember it was nominated for ten Academy Awards?  And not even for make-up or special effects (I wonder if there were categories for those back then).

The Exorcist was nominated for Best Picture, Best Actress (Ellen Burstyn), Best Supporting Actor (Jason Miller), Best Supporting Actress (Linda Blair), Best Director (William Friedkin), Best Cinematography (Owen Roizman), Best Art/Set Direction and Best Film Editing.  It won Oscars for Best Adapted Screenplay (William Peter Blatt) and Best Sound.  Every one of these was well deserved.  The nominees lost to the likes of The Sting (which won seven awards that year), Glenda Jackson, John Houseman, Tatum O'Neal and George Roy Hill.  As usual (until The Silence of the Lambs in 1991), the subject matter probably clipped its number of wins.

Burstyn is phenomenal in The Exorcist as the mother of a teenage girl who becomes possessed by demonic forces.  Her reactions to what's happening are natural and realistic.  But for the key moment that draws me to this conclusion, don't watch how she responds to the various atrocities she witnesses.  Instead, watch how she responds when she realizes her daughter may have killed someone.  She's been holding in her feelings when she's chatting with the detective (Lee J. Cobb) investigating the death of her friend, Burke Dennings (Jack MacGowran), but as soon as he leaves and she shuts the door, the floodgates open.  Maybe she doesn't understand what's happening in her daughter's bedroom upstairs, but she understands murder.

Friedkin is a master behind the camera of The Exorcist.  The movie is composed of mostly short scenes with no clear idea of the passing of time between them.  Some key events aren't even witnessed, such as the death of Dennings.  In a way, we as the spectators are experiencing the same perspective of events as the characters living them.  One of his creative choices, I assume, was to use music sparingly.  Very rarely during the movie, is there music in the background.  The famous "Tubular Bells" music comes early when Burstyn is walking down the street, not during any horrific scene.  Often, the only soundtrack is the low, guttural growling of the possessed Regan MacNeil (Blair).

The Exorcist is intense and disturbing, but not necessarily scary.

If you're not disturbed by images of a 12-year old girl spewing green projectile vomit at a priest or her head spinning completely around 360 degrees, I hope you are by the vision of her stabbing her crotch with a crucifix.  These are scenes that don't lessen in impact due to the passing of years.  But I'm not sure I find them "scary".  For me, it is far more terrifying to witness the looks on the poor girl's face and in her eyes during the moments these things are not happening.  She's lost somewhere and needs help, but she is helpless.  Whether or not her possession is a metaphor for something else, no parent should be able to hear Regan's cries without his or her heart breaking.  But that's more sad than scary.

I'm scared in movies when I think its events could really happen.  Or, perhaps more accurately, I'm scared in movies when there's a threat of danger to someone, particularly to someone to whom I can relate.  I'm not saying demonic possession couldn't happen, but I don't feel it's likely to happen to me or my family.  I mean, there's a larger chance one of us would be stalked by a slasher.  In The Exorcist, I never feel a threat to anyone but Regan herself, therefore, I can't relate.  It also comes down to suspense.  Even unimaginable circumstances can be made terrifying with suspense.  The Exorcist is not a suspenseful movie.  Again, it's intense and disturbing, but not suspenseful.

Look at how Friedkin presents his horrors.  They are sudden and unexpected, with no gradual build-up and reveal.  For example, the first two instances that something funny is happening to Regan are so matter-of-fact that they're nearly throwaways.  Regan mentions in passing her imaginary friend, Captain Howdy, and later walks into a party and urinates on the floor.  Both of these events occur with neither fanfare, nor, as mentioned earlier, music.  There are no attempts to build suspense with scenes like this; they simply happen.

The Exorcist isn't really a horror movie at all.

This may be my most controversial point.  But think about it.  I've just explained that the director does nothing to build suspense, or even shock the audience with sudden surprises.  Horrible things happen, but not for the sake of scaring the audience.  In an introduction to the version of The Exorcist I watched, Friedkin says the movie is about faith.  "Yeah, right," I thought, "he must be ashamed of the horror genre and he's trying to distance himself from it."  But after watching it, I tend to agree.  Why else is the movie split between what's happening in Chris MacNeil's Georgetown brownstone and what's happening in the life of despondent priest, Father Damien Karras (Miller)?

If you can't tell from the look in his eyes, Karras flat out tells a colleague that he thinks he's lost his faith.  In the obvious sense, the fact that he accepts that Regan has indeed been possessed is how he regains it.  I mean, if you believe in the devil, you must also believe in God, right?  But in a less obvious way, The Exorcist is all about faith.  For one thing, the MacNeils have no faith; they are not religious.  What does that say about the possession?  Were they targeted by demons because they were godless people?  Or are demons just indiscriminate predators?  It's fairly certain that faith will not automatically protect you.  In the face of horrible things, how important is fate?  Apparently, it cannot protect you.

I could easily be convinced that The Exorcist is more a drama than a horror film.  In fact, it's almost a really ugly, albeit well-made, version of a disease-of-the-week TV movie.  What is wrong with Regan?  Doctors think she has a lesion in her temporal lobe.  ("There's nothing wrong with her bed; there's something wrong with her brain.")  But there's nothing on her scan.  It must be drugs, then.  Nope?  Well, let's call the psychiatrist.  When hypnosis fails, let's call an exorcist.  I mean, if Regan believes she is possessed, then maybe believing the demon is being cast from her will heal her.  You know what?  This would make an excellent episode of House!

Conclusion

All I can say definitively is that when I re-watched, The Exorcist, I loved it!  Technically, the filmmakers and actors were at the tops of their games in producing one of the rare movies to which I would award a rating of 9 out of 10 on the Internet Movie Database.  The fact that it provides the opportunity for debate 41 years after it was first released is a testament to its status as a classic.  I'd like to encourage people who have never seen it because of its perceived genre to cast their preconceptions aside.  Don't think of The Exorcist as only a horror movie.  It is a simply a movie, perhaps one of the best.

Tomorrow:  The Reincarnation of Peter Proud!

Westworld (1973)

Twenty years before Steven Spielberg directed Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park, Crichton himself directed another movie about an amusement park gone wrong.  Instead of dinosaurs, though, the three parks within Delos ("the vacation of the future today") were inhabited by lifelike robots.  In the movie Westworld, for $1,000 a day, guests could visit Medieval World, Roman World or Western World and experience one of three interactive historical experiences.  I'm not sure why robots were employed to populate these "worlds", except that there wouldn't be much of a movie unless these robots malfunctioned to become murderous.

Westworld is a more cynical movie than Jurassic Park.  In the latter, there's a sense of awe and wonder before things go to hell.  But in the former, there's only selfish hedonism which results in a feeling that the movie's victims get what they deserve.  Also, in Westworld, the generic "supervisor" and "technicians" behind the scenes act like it's just a matter of time before things fall apart anyway.  When confronted with the fact that more and more robots are suffering from "central malfunction", the Delos engineers admit that, since some of the robots were designed by other robots, they "don't know how they work."

As signs begin to show that they’re headed for a meltdown, the chief supervisor (Alan Oppenheimer) picks up a phone that’s dead and asks, “Doesn’t anything work around here?”  When there’s still time to prevent disaster, there’s a brief debate about whether or not the stockholders can insure the safety of their guests.  I’ll let you guess how that one turns out.  Again, there wouldn’t be much of a movie if they sent everyone home and closed the parks.  Later, when the robots in all three parks are running rampant, systems begin to fail in the command center.  They cannot escape because the doors are electric.

But the story really isn’t about the behind the scenes buffoons running Delos.  It’s about two buddies, John Blaine (James Brolin) and Peter Martin (Richard Benjamin), out to have a little fun over the weekend.  Blaine has visited Westworld before and, on the hovercraft ride to the park, more or less outlines the rules for Martin.  The only way you can identify a robot is by looking at its hands; they haven’t perfected those yet.  The guns are real; they have sensors to prevent guests from shooting anything that has a body temperature.  And, the robots simply “exist for your pleasure; nothing can go wrong.”

The gentlemen’s park of preference is Westworld, where Blaine can sit back in the authentic 1880s saloon and sip a whiskey while beautiful women fawn all over him and Martin can exercise some assertiveness while exploring the thrill of shooting a bad guy.  In this case the bad guy is the “Gunslinger”, played by Yul Brynner, in a nod to his character in The Magnificent Seven.  Martin disposes of him relatively quickly, but robots can be repaired and returned to duty, so he comes knocking on their door with a grudge.  He’s disposed of again, but the third time’s a charm and he ultimately becomes a terminator, out to destroy Martin.

There are some enjoyable sci-fi details in Westworld.  Regardless of the carnage and destruction that might occur during the day (bar fights, bank robberies, jailbreaks, etc.) in the faux Wild West, it takes only a few trucks and uniformed workers to clean things up at night.  And, when things are running properly, it takes only a flip of the switch to shut things down at the end of the day and the flip of a switch to turn them on in the morning.  There’s a nice scene from Medieval World where knights, maidens and horses that have been stopped in their tracks are “turned on” for another day of business.

While most of the happenings in Westworld are satiric, there are some frightening situations.  While I wouldn’t strictly consider it a horror movie, Brynner’s Gunslinger is nevertheless a terrifying monster.  The casting couldn’t be better.  In case you take it too seriously, though, Dick Van Patten is another guest at Westworld who provides comic relief.  He’s a bumbling, accident-prone fella, characteristics that are highlighted when he seizes the opportunity to become sheriff.  All this makes the tone a little uneven.  The aforementioned bar fight is accompanied by music right out of a madcap comedy.

By the time an engineer states, “Sir, we have no control over the robots at all,” Westworld is completely in action thriller mode.  And it’s very entertaining, a real crowd pleaser.  This is reflected in its box office receipts for 1973, when it was MGM’s biggest success of the year.  It inspired a sequel (Futureworld) and a short-lived CBS television series (Beyond Westworld).  Someone must feel the franchise can do it again; HBO is preparing a Westworld TV series.  With technology nearly out of control these days, it could be perfect timing, especially if it has as much fun with the concept as the movie did 41 years ago.

Tomorrow:  The Exorcist!

Night Watch (1973)

This may be the shortest post you'll ever read on my blog.  I'm including in my Countdown to Halloween a little-known movie from 1973 called Night Watch because I have a specific memory of when I first saw it.  Growing up in Enid, Oklahoma with a mother who liked to shop, we often made road trips to either Kansas City or Dallas to satisfy her needs.  (This was before the Oakwood Mall opened, but even that couldn't satisfy her particular needs.)  On one such trip to Dallas, we attended an advance screening of a new movie with Elizabeth Taylor called Night Watch.  I don't remember anything about the movie, but I've always wanted to revisit it.  This month was the perfect opportunity to do so.

Based on a play by Lucille Fletcher, Night Watch is the story of a rich woman (Taylor) haunted by her past.  The specific facts of her past are slowly revealed, but they're causing her to manifest visions of dead people in the "old house at the end of the garden".  Of course, no one believes her; not the inspector she keeps calling (Bill Dean), the neighbor whom she accuses (Robert Lang), and especially not her husband (Laurence Harvey) and best friend (Billie Whitelaw).  While Night Watch does not feel like a play turned into a movie, it does feel like a very standard mystery.  It's got a doozy of a twist, but for me, it did not come in the form I expected.  In fact, it's a dark twist with a violent edge that truly shocks.

I don't know what else to say about Night Watch.  However, since you have read all my previous posts (right?) and now know what a hagsploitation movie is, I'll say that this one sort of fits the bill.  It's definitely about a woman in danger.  But at 41 years old, I don't consider Taylor to be the typical subject in one of these movies.  (Maybe instead of a hagsploitation movie, we should call it a milfsploitation movie.)

I will also say that actress Linda Hayden has a small but vital role.  She is, of course, the beautiful young woman (20 years old at the time) known for Hammer's Taste the Blood of Dracula and Tigon's The Blood on Satan's Claw.  The trivia section on imdb for Night Watch says that she has  stated in interviews that its production was delayed due to health problems of major cast members.

The only other trivia I can find is that Night Watch reunited stars Taylor and Harvey, who had appeared together in Butterfield 8 thirteen years earlier.  Chances are, one or both of them were the "major cast members" who had health problems, according to Linda Hayden.  He seems older than his age of 45 in Night Watch, but he sports a beautiful head of hair that might just be a toupee.

Night Watch is a typical thriller like many that have come before and after.  If I give it an "average" rating, I'm going to bump it a star because of its truly surprising ending.  And then I'll bump it another star because of its credentials and some sharp dialog.  I haven't seen many Elizabeth Taylor movies, so I feel like watching this one boosts my credibility.  Even if she is sort of slumming it.

Tomorrow:  Westworld!

The Legend of Hell House (1973)

One of the 70s horror movies which seems to have gathered a following in recent years is The Legend of Hell House.  Even though it is another movie I remember seeing at the Chief Theater in Enid, Oklahoma when I was about 10 years old, I didn't remember much about the movie itself except that it was really creepy.  Therefore, I had no expectations about whether it would or wouldn't stand the test of time when I recently re-watched it.

In a way, it's sort of timeless.  I mean, it doesn't matter in what era it takes place.  It's just another haunted house movie representing the particular time in which it was made; in this case, 1973.  The only thing that distracts from this timeless quality is the big, clunky machine the characters place in the house to rid it of its ghosts.  Interestingly enough, this out-of-place piece of fake equipment makes the movie feel older than it really is.

The set up in The Legend of Hell House is that an eccentric millionaire hires physicist Lionel Barrett (Clive Revill) to investigate "survival after death" in "the one place where it has yet to be refuted", an old mansion he calls, "the Mount Everest of haunted houses".  The house was originally owned by Emeric Balasco, whose "drug addiction, alcoholism, sadism, beastiality, mutilation, murder, vampirism, necrophilia, cannibalism, not to mention a gamut of sexual goodies" made the house evil.

Barrett takes to the house his wife, Edith (Gayle Hunnicutt), a spiritual medium, Florence Tanner (Pamela Franklin) and physical medium Benjamin Franklin Fischer (Roddy McDowall), who also happens to be the lone survivor of a previous investigation.  Barrett is the scientist who believes there is nothing but electromagnetic energy in the house that they can simply suck out.  It is of course the believer, Tanner, who manifests psychic activity while in the house.

Richard Matheson supposedly toned down the subject matter when adapting the movie from his novel.  This may be why it all seems somewhat underdeveloped.  However, it is surprisingly more sexual than I recalled.  Twice, Edith experiences erotic visions and throws herself at Fischer.  But these are long, drawn-out scenes that include acts like caressing a statue before coming on to any actual human beings.

The story is rather ho-hum (and a little confusing); however, the visual style is terrific.  Directed by John Hough, who also made what is perhaps my favorite Hammer Films movie ever, Twins of Dracula, The Legend of Hell House is composed of mostly brief scenes that begin with a time stamp, giving it a documentary feel.  The shot compositions are interesting and unique.  Oftentimes, the camerawork is fluid, taking the experience of spending a week in a haunted house to another level; in a way, it's like we're there, too.

Oddly, the exterior shots are sometimes more foreboding than the interior shots.  Outside, it's dark and foggy and the wind is blowing.  Inside, it's better lit and the cinematography is crisper.  Watching it, even through the end, I decided I would rather be inside the house than outside.

The Legend of Hell House was not produced or released by AIP; however, it was originally in development there until it was given to James H. Nicholson when he left.  Ultimately, it was released by 20^th Century Fox, giving it a little Hollywood sheen.  I do not know how it did at the box office; however, any success was likely overshadowed by the release later that year of The Exorcist, which was a box office bonanza.

I, unfortunately, did not gain any newfound love for The Legend of Hell House by watching it 41 years later.  While extremely effective in what it does, it just doesn't do enough for me.  Oh, well, as Florence Tanner says, "The Lord certainly does move in mysterious way."  To which Benjamin Franklin Fischer replies, "So does this house."

Tomorrow:  Night Watch!