Revamped Exorcist Still Makes The Head Spin
The Age
Friday March 23, 2001
The Exorcist: The Director's Cut (132 mins) R *****
The return of William Friedkin's 1973 horror classic sports an extra 11 minutes of footage, most of which is devoted to making more gradual the transition of 12-year-old Regan (Linda Blair) from a sweet little girl to the foul-mouthed demon she becomes when possessed by Satan.
Those who know the film don't need much incentive to inspect this new version, which also has a digitally enhanced soundtrack and a few new visual elements carefully added. Suffice to say that, on balance, it's actually scarier now. Like Rosemary's Baby, The Exorcist is one of those horror films you never really become immune to, no matter how many times you see it. Those spine-stabbing moments of horror and mood shift are as potent as ever, and appear even more artful given the collapse of the genre in the decades since.
It is the two generations who only know the film by reputation or video, however, who need to be urged to see it. Most of the mulch that's been served up in the form of the Freddy Kruegers, the Jasons, the Michael Myers, The Screams, the I Know What You Did Last Summers fall pathetically short of what the genre's capable of.
Horror's not about cheap jokes, quick cuts, sudden blasts of music or ghouls jumping into frame for some easy shock value. It is about mood, about creating an atmosphere of fear, dread and utter incomprehension. Yes, it's also about money shots, about visual gross-outs and shocking images, and on this score The Exorcist out-shocks and embarrasses the bulk of the crappy spook films that have tried taking the shortcut. There's simply been nothing since The Exorcist that's as offensive or disturbing as the scene with the demonised Regan and the crucifix.
The Exorcist harks back to a time when horror was an art, not a franchise. Director Friedkin, working from the screenplay by William Peter Blatty, who wrote the novel, creates a powerful, palpable atmosphere of fear. The only thing that's dated a little is the swearing that comes out of the little girl's mouth. Back in 1973 it indicated possession by Satan. Today, such language from a 12-year-old merely suggests too much television.
The Girl Next Door (80 mins) R ****
Forget Hannibal. There's nothing in that film, or in any recent horror film, that's as graphic or as stomach-churning as the cosmetic surgery sequence in Christine Fugate's outstanding personal profile of X-rated porn star Stacy Valentine. To enhance her visual appeal, Stacy decides to have a bit of lipo and some breast surgery. When I saw this film at the film festival last year, the Capitol cinema was packed. When that scene appeared, the collective reaction was as if the entire audience had simultaneously taken a sip from a liver-and-kidney Slurpee. I couldn't remain composed. I let out one of those involuntary yelps of ``Oh God!" and then a ``Bleahhh" and then, from memory, a ``Jeeee-sus".
Fugate is no less frank in her interviews with Valentine, an attractive, modest Oklahoma housewife with a sweet, soft face who fell into the hardcore porn game for a variety of reasons, the key one being her relationship with a man who wanted to see her pose for nude photos.
As with Sex: The Annabel Chong Story, there's a sense here that the move into porn springs from a combination of rebellion, lack of opportunity and sheer aimlessness. But it's a life full of adventure. In one remarkable sequence, Stacy travels to Europe, where she agrees, for a large amount of money, to have sex with a wealthy Valentine fan. As she speaks about the encounter, she seems to realise how, with one decision, she's gone from fantasy to anecdote.
Yolngu Boy (88 mins) M *?
Well-meaning but misfired film about three Aboriginal boys who go on the run from the law after trashing a shop and a community centre in their small town in the Northern Territory. Early on the boys are confronted by an Aboriginal adult who challenges them to act like men. It's a great theme, but it quickly gets lost as the boys trek to Darwin via some impressive shots of the outback landscape. We desperately need more films about indigenous people and culture, but Yolngu Boy, for all its good intentions, lacks tension and drive. (See interview with director Stephen Johnson, page 3).
Dracula 2000 (99 mins) MA **?
The IQ of this trashy Drac pic drops below freezing after about 20 minutes and then slaps you about the face with color, movement and gore in an attempt to keep your attention equally divided between the screen and your popcorn. It works, too, though it'll work much better on video. Fans of Star Trek: Voyager may want to note that Jeri Ryan, aka Seven of Nine, has a small role.
The Contender (126 mins) M **?
It's time to play dirty in Washington as vice-presidential candidate Joan Allen comes under attack from Republican Gary Oldman for her sexually active college days. The first 70per cent of this film is actually quite good, engrossing drama as the subtle indecencies of political double-speak and scheming are brought to bear on the candidate. Then the film totally loses its nerve. This is one of those American mainstream films that reeks of having had its ending changed at the last minute. Allen is good, though, and is up for a best actress Oscar. Jeff Bridges is convincing as the President, and is also up for best supporting actor.
More Queer
The 11th Queer Film Festival ends on Sunday. Two strongly recommended delights are:
101 Rent Boys (77 mins) ****
At $50 a pop, directors Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato (The Eyes of Tammy Faye) interview 101 male prostitutes about their lives, loves, hates, backgrounds, etc. A well-formatted, concise, engaging documentary, engrossing from the first drop. A great idea, marvellously realised. Screens tomorrow at 10.30pm at the Capitol.
Krampack (90 mins) ***?
With his parents away for the weekend, Dani (Fernando Ramolla) brings teen pal Nico (Jordi Vilches) over to his impressive Spanish home, ostensibly for some fun with the local girls, although Dani is keen to suss out his feelings for Nico. Gay themes lace the story, but it's only part of a more general exploration of adolescent sexual identity. Very well directed by Cesc Gay, adapted from a play by Jordi Sanchez. Screens as the closing-night film on Sunday at 9pm at the Capitol.
For more QFF guff: inquiries on 9510 5699; bookings on 9429 2665; website at melbournequeerfilm.com.au
The French March On
The 11th French Film Festival is up and running until Sunday April 1 at the Como. Among the highlights is the huge domestic hit ...
The Taste of Others (112 mins) ***?
Agnes Jaoui's breezy character comedy about a middle-aged businessman (Jean-Pierre Bacri, in a terrific performance) who develops a belated taste for the arts and also falls for a low-level theatre actress (Anne Alvaro). The film takes a none-too-subtle swipe at the pretention of those who consider themselves members of the exalted arts community, which perhaps accounts for the film's success in France. It's also up for a best foreign film Oscar on Monday. Screens at the Como tomorrow and Wednesday at 9.15pm.
Festivals have their lowlights, but let's hope there's nothing worse than ...
False Servant (90 mins) *
A poorly photographed stage play that's literally photographed in a theatre. Sleep-inducing stuff. Screens tomorrow at 4.15pm and Monday at 6.45pm.
For inquiries and details, phone 9827 7533 or visit palace.net.au. More French Festival reviews next week, including A Ma Soeur! (Fat Girl), the new film by Catherine Breillat, director of Romance.
© 2001 The Age