EXORCIST thread.

I'm not saying THE EXORCIST is definitely the first film I ever saw, but it's the first film I remember watching. I was probably 3 or 4 years old.

I’m not saying this was the best parenting call in the world; the movies I saw as a kid - KENTUCKY FRIED MOVIE, DON'T LOOK IN THE BASEMENT, SSSSSS - would probably get my parents a visit from Social Services today. But Mom and Dad, with 7 kids from 2 marriages, did their best.

While I don’t recall the full experience, when I see the film today, certain images - frosty breath in a darkened room, Father Merrin (Max von Sydow) soaking up green vomit with his sash, Regan (Linda Blair) opening the nightstand drawer telekinetically - instantly take me back.

But that’s not when THE EXORCIST really did a number on me. That happened when I was around ten. In the years between, the movie had taken on a boogeyman quality in my house, coasting on reputation more than anything.

My older siblings would whisper “Ehhhhhcksssorrrrrrrcisssssst” down the hall at me to scare me, which it did, for some reason. And on the second viewing it freaked me out properly. Seeing my teen brothers and sisters - my protectors! - scared silly served to amp up my own fear.

It really left a mark this time. By day, we would try to out-scare each other with impressions of the possessed Regan. By night, I'd wind myself into a fright looking down the empty hall at a closed bedroom door.

Yes, it's safe to say that THE EXORCIST messed me up as a kid. But it wasn't done messing with me. As I grew up, I discovered that the film lost nearly none of its power over me, but the ways in which the film resonated shifted considerably with age.

As a child viewer, the surface scares did the job, but it all would’ve been nothing but cheap spookhouse thrills without the subtext of Regan’s plight. Being poked by doctors, feeling helpless and small, overpowered by something too large for her (or me) to comprehend.

As an adult, I came to empathize with Chris (Ellen Burstyn). Though I’m not a parent, the terror and frustration of being unable to help a loved one in pain, and dealing with bureaucracies who have no interest in aiding you, feels wholly relatable.

And lately I’ve come to identify with the Father Karras. Karras, trying to reconcile his lost faith in the wake of an indifferent universe reaching out and extinguishing a life he held dear, is one of the most gut-wrenching portrayals of midlife crisis ever shown on film.

Karras has been doing what he’s told, trying to be “good.” But he's starting to feel it's for nothing. Later all his values and beliefs are vaporized when he sees his ailing mother strapped to a bed in Bellevue, his priest's salary an insufficient means to properly care for her.

His mother’s life as a “good Catholic” ends pathetically and unceremoniously, surrounded by strangers. There is no evidence of God or Heaven in her demise. It’s even pointed out that Karras’ decision to become a priest directly prevented his mother from living a better life.

Karras is shattered, his guilt and anger sending him on a one-way ticket to that house in Georgetown, in search of not just redemption and salvation, but any kind of sign that some higher power is running this shitshow.

God never shows up; the evil is ultimately bested by a terrified, desperate man with no one - celestial or otherwise - backing his play. That’s terrifying, and that sounds about right.