Mania Grade: D
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- Starring: Fernanda Andrade, Simon Quarterman, Evan Helmuth, Suzan Crowley
- Written by: William Brent Bell and Matthew Peterman
- Directed by: William Brent Bell
- Studio: Paramount Pictures
- Rating: R
- Run Time: 87 minutes
- Series:
Mania Review: The Devil Inside
INXS should sue. By
Rob Vaux
January 06, 2012
The Devil Inside
© Paramount Pictures/Robert Trate
It must be January. The shitty exorcist movies are in bloom.
The Devil Inside treats its audience with the kind of contempt reserved for mass murderers, a brazen affront to any expectations we might have for our hard-earned entertainment buck. I felt it most keenly during the ending – a metaphorical middle finger that sent the teenage crowd I saw it with into a frenzy of boos and catcalls – but in truth it arrived much earlier than that. Nothing about this movie betrays any ambition or creativity. It just plugs in the clichés of writhing contortionists being doused with holy water by dour priests, trusting that we either haven’t seen The Exorcist or don’t care how brazenly it can be ripped off. The filmmakers add a conceit from the terrific The Fallen for spice, proving the axiom that most bad movies simply cobble together pieces of their betters like a magpie building a nest. The Devil Inside is dull, derivative and built on a foundation of unfiltered bullshit, and yet it still demands to be taken seriously. Good luck with that.
The real problem, of course, is that it can’t escape the shadow of William Friedkin’s classic, a vision so definitive that we haven’t needed any embellishments for almost forty years. The Devil Inside trucks out the same visual imagery we expect – the maddened patient, the antiseptic hospitals, the trappings of Catholicism intended to vanquish the demon – as well as a half-assed effort to engage in that earlier movie’s metaphysical debate. In an age of science and enlightenment, how is one to differentiate genuine demonic possession from simple insanity? Jason Miller’s doubting Thomas in The Exorcist made a perfect fulcrum for that meditation. The Devil Inside answers with a goofy pair of renegade priests, who scoff at the Vatican’s policy on exorcisms and work to save those they feel have been let down by the system. They play like rejects from a bad cop show, with the Vatican replacing city hall as the “corrupt bureaucracy” against which they rage.
Then a case comes along that promises to get them the evidence they need to be taken seriously. A young American woman (Fernanda Andrade) arrives in Rome enquiring after her mother, consigned to a Church-controlled asylum after murdering three people in 1989. Evidence suggests that the woman was possessed, and her daughter has brought a documentary film crew along to record their meeting. This gives director William Brent Bell a chance to click off as many found-footage clichés as he can: keeping the budget down while subjecting us to another tedious array of shaky-cam perspectives that were old before The Blair Witch Project has a chance to count its profits. They deliver a few shots of Paris Hilton raccoon eyes to goose up the scares, as well as cheap shocks like pets jumping out at us from unexpected angles. Such carnival barker tactics appear in the early scenes as a way of holding the line until The Devil Inside figures out what it wants to do. It never does.
Instead, it regurgitates the expected Rosaries-and-pea-soup nonsense, plying hysterical overacting in an effort to hide its shopworn nature. You can drive a Mack truck through some of the plot holes – like why a pair of priests who could be excommunicated for their work would happily let a camera crew follow them around – but that assumes tighter logic could somehow improve this mess. We stand witness to two acts stuck permanently in neutral, then limp forward in the hopes of big finish. That’s when the floor completely gives out from under it: cutting us off right when it finds some kind of point worth making.
Something about this kind of material continues to speak to people – judging by the Thursday-night crowds they have a big hit on their hands – but even the dimmest audience-goer knows when they’re being sold a bill of goods. The Devil Inside has modest ambitions that it can’t even begin to meet, trapped by its own self-regard and a reliance on the now-threadbare conventions of countless better films. The opening title card brags about the Catholic Church’s opposition to the film; in truth, I bet the Church never even noticed, and why should it? Trash like this needs to be forgotten as quickly as possible.
"Between science and religion..."
Is nothing. The two don't actually mix. One is made up nonsense and superstition and the other is SCIENCE!
This movie LOOKED terrible, I feel bad for Rob for actually having to watch it.