EXORCIST 25th Anniversary Special Edition Disc: Still Scary After All These Years

By: Steve Biodrowski
Date: Tuesday, March 14, 2000

THE EXORCIST was--and remains--a galvanic theatrical experience, one in which each individual's reaction to the film is enhanced by the kind of group psychology that takes over in crowded rooms, by the communal sense of shared experience, by the chorus of screams that lets you know you're not the only one being frightened. Amazingly, even without this additional layer, much of the film's impact remains intact on the 25th Anniversary edition DVD, which presents a pristine print of the film in the widescreen format (1:85 aspect ratio), with Dolby Digital Surround 5.1 Sound.

The print is sharp and clear, with excellent color reproduction. The soundtrack goes a long way toward capturing the theatrical experience, where the sound effects (even something as simple as a ringing phone) are orchestrated to provoke a jump from the audience, and the demonic dubbing of Mercedes McCambridge (as the voice of the Demon) comes through loud and clear. If you haven't seen the film in years, or if you've never seen it, this presentation would certainly show you what all the fuss was about. (However, the anal retentive among us must point out that the DVD does not offer a complete reproduction of the original film: Gone is the opening Warner Bros' logo from 1973, replaced by their 75th anniversary version; something about that giant orange W flying out toward the audience, underscored by the opening strains of the score, was truly ominous, setting the tone for what was to follow, far better than the brightly-hued replacement.)

Additionally, the freeze frame capability of DVD allows you to examine in minute details those subliminal cuts that have come under fire from wrong-headed moralists concerned about the film's effect on viewers ('It was never a question of trying to brainwash an audience,' says director William Friedkin in his audio commentary, 'which is ridiculous.') Now you can clearly see the two brief glimpses of the demonic visage revealed in the film, one during a dream by Father Karras (Jason Miller) and one during the exorcism. And you can focus in on that double-exposed close-up of Regan, which looks so inexplicably eerie when glimpsed at regular projection speed.

There are two audio commentaries, one by Friedkin and one by producer-writer William Peter Blatty. Friedkin's is the more interesting of the two, being more clearly synchronized with the film, while Blatty's is a more general discussion of the novel and the film, including his inspiration (an actual case) and his reasons for switching from his established career as a comic writer to create what would turn out to be his most famous work.


Friedkin's' commentary is peppered with more specific anecdotes about the filming, but even he retreats into generalities from time to time, and it turns out that much of what he says duplicates material contained in the supplemental section (most of which is contained on the disc's second side). 'I have a great reluctance to discuss technical elements,' he says, claiming that they are 'not only secondary but unimportant.'

On the positive side, he discusses arcane details like the mysterious discovery of a St. Joseph's medal during the archeological dig in the Iraq prologue--an impossible occurrence since the ruins have been buried for thousands of years before St. Joseph ever lived. He credits the statue of Pazzuzu in this scene to production designer Bill O'Malley (both he and Blatty refer to the demon by name, even though that name is never mentioned in the film itself, only in the novel), and in a moment of humility the director continues to refer to the steps where Karras takes his fatal plunge as 'the Hitchcock Steps,' even though that sobriquet has long been supplanted in local parlance by 'the Exorcist Steps.'

Other interesting items emerge: in reference to some details not fully spelled out by the film, Friedkin says that 'we gave people credit for figuring out what was going on.' Later, he admits that he doesn't really know who put the crucifix in Regan's room (in the novel, it is clearly one of the servants), but he doesn't seem to think it matters. During the party scene, as director Burke Dennings (Jack MacGowran) says 'There's a pubic hair floating in my drink,' Friedkin mentions the Clarence Thomas hearing, where this portion of the novel was read aloud, as a possible source for an identical dirty joke attributed by Anita Hill to Thomas. Friedkin also take a moment to diss critics and gossip columnists, such as Rhona Barret, who (he says) reported that Linda Blair ended up in an asylum because of her involvement with the film.

Curiously, for a man who has often resisted interpreting his own films, Friedkin gives a blow-by-blow analysis of the ending that agrees precisely with Blatty's own interpretation for the film ('The demon has left Karras, and Karras is without sin,' says the director, adding, 'Faith has triumphed over evil'). Yet in the supplemental interviews, he insists that he is not bothered by the potential for other interpretations--a point of debate between the two men, with Blatty coming down strongly in favor of making the meaning of the film clear, so that viewers will not be misled into thinking that evil has triumphed.

Blatty's commentary is much shorter, ending during the hypnosis sequence before Regan (Linda Blair) is fully possessed. He tells some stories that should be familiar to those who have read anything about the film in the past, but he adds a few interesting details. For instance, he doesn't blame Friedkin for audience misunderstanding of the ending. Rather, he feels that he and the director worked very carefully on the choreography to clarify the action: Karras is not pushed out the window by the demon; he sacrifices himself in an act of martyrdom to save the girl.

Like Friedkin, Blatty mentions the similarity between Detective Kinderman in the film and Peter Falk's famous television detective, Columbo. Blatty continues to insist that Columbo was borrowed from Kinderman, which on the face of it seems to hold some merit: the novel did exist, at least in galley form, before the COLUMBO TV series, but the Columbo character had been seen in a made-for-television movie in the late '60s. Blatty admits the pre-existence of the character (including an appearance in a stage show), but still believes that many of the specific details were borrowed from Kinderman and added for the TV series.

Blatty's most specific commentary refers to his long-standing frustration over the final cut: 'The cut we are looking at now is officially Billy's,' he says, adding that, although the film is considered a classic, 'It is not, in my mind, a masterpiece, but the film I saw in the moviola that day was a masterpiece.' He goes on to mention the missing footage (which appears in the supplemental section), including a scene that is referenced in the film's dialogue: Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn) tells her daughter to take her pills like the doctor said, even though there has been no visit to the doctor shown. 'What I miss most of all is the original ending of the movie,' Blatty laments, adding somewhat prophetically, 'Maybe it will go back in someday....'

After Blatty's commentary ends, we are treated to several minutes of audio tests and outtakes of Mercedes McCambridge dubbing the voice of the Demon, which begin (somewhat irrelevantly) over the scene of Karras jogging around a track just before being questioned by Kinderman (Lee J. Cobb). Interestingly, the audio at first seems to be an actual dubbing session, alternating the live takes of Linda Blair reading the lines on set with McCambridge's version and, thus, making the effectiveness of her voice all the more clear. Later, the audio changes to what sound like early rehearsals, with McCambridge literally reading the whole script, including the dialogue for both the Demon and Karras, along with the scene directions as well. Finally, the actress runs through a series of vocal exercises to provide the various groaning, gurgling, and screeching used during the exorcism scenes. The effect is undeniably creepy, but it does grow tiresome after going on for several minutes. These sound tests end midway through Chapter 28 on the disc, during Kinderman's question of Chris MacNeil, or in other words just about at the point that McCambridge's voice will take over in the actual film. The second audio track drops out at this point, leaving only the film's original soundtrack for the remainder of the disc.

But that's far from all this DVD has to offer. Side Two is filled with a wonderful array of supplemental material. First and foremost is FEAR OF GOD: 25 YEARS OF THE EXORCIST, a BBC documentary hosted by Mark Kermode, a journalist who has managed to make himself the foremost expert on the film. The documentary features enlightening interviews with Max Von Sydow (Father Merrin), Linda Blair, Ellen Burstyn, make up supervisor Dick Smith, sound man Chris Newman, special effects supervisor Marcel Vercoutere, Blatty, Friedkin, and Fathers William O'Malley and Tom Bermingham (technical advisors who also appear as priests in the film).

The interviews are cleverly shot against a back-projection screen that displays scenes from the film, and there is also test footage of Blair in early makeup designs (not actually intended to be used in the film, according to Smith, but to prove that her angelic countenance could be transformed into something monstrous). Burstyn tells the story of having her back injured when Friedkin had the special effects man yank too hard with a wire (to create the effect of her being hurled across the room). She is especially (and understandably) furious about Friedkin's instruction to the cameraman upon seeing her hit the floor in pain: 'Tilt down to get her expression.' As Burstyn says, 'It was way beyond what anyone needs to do a movie.' Jason Miller also chimes in with disapproval of Friedkin's directorial technique--in this case, firing guns to provoke frightened reaction shots from the cast: 'That's really what pissed me off,' says the actor-playwright. Trying to be fair, Dick Smith adds of Friedkin, 'He was tough, but stimulating.'

Unfortunately, a lot of time is wasted on the gossipy rumors of a cursed set; thankfully, Burstyn and Sydow dispute this, in favor of a more sobered, realistic view. Father Bermingham, who says he agreed to be an advisor in order to avoid 'another ROSEMARY'S BABY,' contradicts the rumor that an exorcism was performed on set to put a stop to the mysterious accidents; he simply performed a blessing, in order to calm people down.

Next, the disc provides longer sessions of the interview with Blatty and Friedkin at a table together, which is only briefly excerpted in the documentary. Also included are the missing scenes: Chris and Regan seeing the sights of Washington, D.C.; Regan's upside-down 'spider-walk,' which was to occur immediately after the news of the death of Burke Dennings; the dialogue between Father Merrin and Father Karras, regarding an possible explanation for the possession; and the original ending, with Lt. Kinderman starting a new friendship with Father Dryer, indicating that Karras' sprit would live on, in some sense in his friend. Easily the most moving scene is the Merrin-Karras dialogue; even out of context, it is a profoundly dramatic moment, not merely a piece of labored exposition.

Disagreeing in a jovial way about these excisions, Blatty and Friedkin continue their decades long debate over the value of spelling everything out to the audience, and the results are entertaining. Blatty makes his impassioned plea for reinstating the missing footage, and Friedkin responds with a story about a famous painter arrested in a museum for trying to touch up one of his paintings: the punch line is the guards telling him that it doesn't matter whether or not he's the artist; the work is on the wall and finished.

Finally, the disc contains a section of bios and background information on the cast and crew, some production sketches and storyboards, eight theatrical trailers and six TV spots. The background info is useful, especially if you have a DVD-rom drive that allows you to access it on your computer. The storyboards do not convey the entire film, only a few key sequences, and they are as interesting for their dissimilarity from the final film as for their similarity. For instance, the possessed Regan is rendered as a demonic, monstrous visage; obviously, the idea for self-inflicted facial scares did not occur until later.

The trailers and television spots are mostly similar to each other, with only minor variations, but a few interesting points emerge. First, several of them are clearly narrated by Mike Farrell (B.J. Hunnicutt on M*A*S*H), and his rather ordinary voice seems at odds with the more melodramatic tone of the other commercials. (Perhaps the idea was to convey a more realistic, every day experience that could be happening even in your neighborhood?) Also, some of the early trailers were clearly prepared before the final sound mix on the film was completed: instead of McCambridge, they contain Blair's voice, heavily processed with electronic filters--an effect abandoned by the director precisely because it sounded like a processed effect.

For fans of this brilliant horror film, Warner's DVD release is about the best home presentation of the film imaginable. Curiously, the disc seems to have been intended as a final preservation of a classic for posterity, but in light of upcoming events, it now seems more like a preview of the anticipated re-release. 'One of the good reasons for a presentation like this is...this is the version of the film that will probably last forever,' says Friedkin at the end of his commentary. 'I feel that it's important to make this digital video the most definitive version.'

Definitive it may have been intended to be, but the disc is about to be rendered as something else: a preservation of an earlier edition of the film. The missing footage on view in the disc will be seen in its intended context when the film returns to theatres this month. At last, viewers will have a chance to see whether William Peter Blatty has been right all these years. Was that two-hour-and-twenty-minute version he watched on the moviola truly a masterpiece that stands head-and-shoulders above the previously released version? I suspect it may be, but it's good to have the original cut preserved on this excellent DVD.