Review: The Exorcist III

Review: The Exorcist III (1990)

Director: William Peter Blatty

Writer: William Peter Blatty

Stars: George C. Scott, Brad Dourif, Ed Flanders

currently available on Amazon Proime (as of 10/30/19)

William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist III is supernaturally exhilarating, spellbinding its viewers in fascinated horror as it entrances them with incomparable dialog and some of the most intense performances ever captured on film.  The original novel The Exorcist, which was also written by Blatty, was transformed into a bona fide horror masterpiece by the sure hand of master director William Friedkin (The French Connection, To Live and Die in L.A., Bug).  When Blatty took over the director’s chair to adapt its first true sequel (I am discountingThe Exorcist 2 which was a shameless cash grab disowned by Blatty), he touched the film with a passionate knowledge of self, missing from the coldly scientific perspective of Friedkin’s masterpiece.  This means that pain and evil each drip from the screen during The Exorcist III, making it no less horrifying and nearly as fascinating as 1972’s The Exorcist..

Whereas Friedkin filmed his experiment in horror like a police procedural, The Exorcist III(which is actually a police procedural) is filmed with an emotional lens, making its shadows deeper and its reality more pliable.  Characters transform their faces and voices, figures crawl quickly on the ceiling, and a crucified adolescent innocent floats up from a hole in the floor.  While all the horrific descriptions and depictions of violence might risk guiding viewers to look away, the film’s performances are absolutely riveting, especially the starring turn by George C. Scott.

The pain and the terror in Scott’s face is deeply meaningful, and the rage in his arms is captivating.  It is almost as if, in times of great emotional strife, Scott’s character Lt. William Kinderman loses control of his muscles as they spasm in pain.  But it is not only Scott’s performance that elevates the film, but also Ed Flanders’ portrayal of horror-hardened Priest Father Dyer that grounds the emotion of the film in wise empathy.  But it is Brad Dourif’s spellbinding showing as the malevolent Gemini Killer that makes the film intoxicating.

Unlike his magnificent showing in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest as the suicidally bashful Billy Bibbit, Dourif’s turn in The Exorcist III shows us the self-assured face of evil.  Imprisoned, tormented, and unstoppable.  This film shows the monstrous nature of evil, forbidding its audience from looking away even for a second.  Though to my perspective this is not the staggering achievement the original The Exorcist was, this film is more emotionally tangible than its predecessor, and definitely as worthy of a watch this Halloween.

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Review: The Exorcist III

5 Hot New Podcasts

 

1. The Bible with David Lynch:

Acclaimed auteur David Lynch (Twin Peaks, Wild at Heart, Dead Mouse with Ants) reads the King James Bible “from cover to cover,” never altering the pitch, pace or timbre of his voice in the slightest.  What results is a strange, unsettling, and occasionally hilarious journey into the heart of madness.  Recommendation: never listen with the lights off.

2. Comedy Fartstorm:

Hosted by Bob Saget, Comedy Fartstorm features a parade of both famous and obscure comedians like Brendan Schaub, Sarah Silverman, and Bob Newhart making fart sounds with their mouths before laughing uproariously.  Because this podcast features no spoken words, it is up to the audience to determine what comedian makes which fart sound.  Some of the farts might even be real, no one has any idea.

3. Silly Sound Playhouse with Morgan Freeman

Morgan Freeman uses the uncanny gravitas of his speaking voice to introduce very silly sound clips.  Episodes are very short (15-20 minutes) and include sounds such as “Tiny tennis ball squeaky toy with multiple rapid squeezes,” and “Silly kids’ voice saying ‘Yipee!’”  After each sound, Freeman gives a brief appraisal, usually limited to one word, like “fascinating.”

4. Gary Busey Fights Monsters

Famously unhinged actor Gary Busey regales you with stories of the victories he’s had battling legendary beasts like Centaurs and Leprechaun armies during his life.  In one of the podcasts most famous episodes, he tells the story of how he faced down Medusa while he was on the set of “The Magnificent Seven Ride!”  The stories are often harrowing, action-packed, and dubious.

5. The Podcast Podcast Podcast:

Hosts Terry Grintest and Amanda Bullifer discuss the ins and outs of making podcasts about podcasts.  The hosts discuss what podcast podcast creators get right, what they get wrong, and which are the best podcast podcasts every week.  The hosts maintain a running count of how many times the word podcast is used each episode, and when the number goes over 100, they each eat ice cream sandwiches.

5 Hot New Podcasts

Guide: Modern Mime Routines

by: Andrew Halter

1. Piloting a Remote Control Helicopter

This is one of the more subtle uses of mime technique, in which the performer holds his hands parallel to each other, roughly 2-3 feet apart, scanning the sky for an invisible flying machine.  One can also open his or her mouth in amazement and excitement, occasionally becoming concerned that the imaginary helicopter will crash, only to be relieved when it does not.

2. Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Waving Tube Man

The Mime splays his or her arms wide, holding them rigid and unmoving, only to suddenly reverse directions suddenly.  The mime’s face should be completely without expression, suggesting the personification of an inanimate object.  If any small children are near, the mime could suddenly throw his arms toward them, hoping not to make them burst into tears.

3. Suicide

The mime should first pretend to sit at a desk and write a confessional note, making sure to emphasize with his or her finger the tears running down their cheek.  Then, standing up, the mime can slip an invisible noose over their neck, throwing the other end of the rope over an imagined overhead pipe. With hands clasped together in front of them, the mime could weep briefly into their own folded hands, before pretending to dangle lifeless from their own imagined suicidal rig.  Possibility: suddenly spring to life, grinning widely and ensuring any audience that it was all a ruse.

4. Mass Shooting

This act requires at least 15 mimes, as one will portray the shooter and the others his or her unfortunate victims.  All the mimes should begin together in one group, until one of them upholds an imaginary machine gun and begins to murder many of the other mimes.  There should be at least 10 imaginary casualties, with the shooter making sure to shudder his or her body rapidly as if jostled by machine gun fire.

5. Donald Trump Speech

The mime stands as if before a podium, making sure to indicate with hand motions that he or she is enormously overweight.  The mime could gesticulate wildly with his or her hands while occasionally standing openhanded as if asking the crowd a question.  Depending on what part of the country the mime performs this routine, it may end with a final triumphant Nazi salute.

Guide: Modern Mime Routines

Poem: The Killing of a Horse (Sort Of)

The texture flits in and out

like a spark hog, I guess, I mean a spark that’s all

like “I’m totally a spark n’ shit,” sparking shit blue moon

tongue depressors, but you knew this would happen, or preternaturally

supposed the future as it occurs, but sometimes it’s like yesterday

by the Beatles isn’t my favorite, ‘cause it’s kind

of doughty, it’s probably cause you hit her, whichever one that was

I forget shit all the time, and my girlfriend is increasingly reluctant

to believe thee readily evident, repeatedly reticent

panoramic period ending the sentence, and then it starts

“Again, crackers!” crackers this time, cheerio that is

as in “that is,” a good pip, when you pop.

 

explicative pretense denied, bitches, this is my coaster

rain-soaked chinchilla prostitute in the future, a pig in every poke

on the literal use of terms, pejorative leaning Mamet monologue

you son of a bitch, the truth handles your ass or some shit

I’m so Sorkin, showing itself a gag on fire

speech of truth, which has never been written

before now, madness fudge-battered cocaine spectacle

sounds tasty in the sun, but it would totally melt so

it would probably kill you, unless you were a hardcore

user specific, or lucky like me I guess.

Poem: The Killing of a Horse (Sort Of)

Poetry: Philosophy Volume 4

Swelling like good songs, Strummer gone acoustic

spanish optimism, calming a steady breeze

curling inwards, patter past the pit

in your gut still clouds bang horizon

darkness towers forever

over us, all of us, struggle sharply instinctual

suicide, when it’s hard red eyes

frozen by the beat, clear blue

shattered with a ball peen

strike at the center mass, nothing of a cushion

underneath, shards will rain

over everyone on both sides

opposite the split, the river will run

red as the sclera screeching

from the blood shot, unplug in emergency

if at all like this, they’ve won already.

 

But they haven’t a knowing smirk

painted left to right like a comet trail

in the dawn light over the plain, booming a shattering

pulse throughout all reality, it seemed at the time

or must have had I been there, overconfidence

shaky fencepost complicit swaying

this and that, hesitance may be

a symbol of the soul or time ravaging

footprints in the sand, showing the way

enlightenment presents to us

going in circles, seeing blank horizon

everywhere forever on, footpads placing

pleasantly in the sand, it is warm

sustaining hilarious resonant contemplation.

Poetry: Philosophy Volume 4

Poem: Ring the Bell

It’s fight day, today

in the sun we’re roasting and anticipating

a bloodbath, packed in a blender

set to spray the walls with guts, screaming out the names

of our gods and loved ones, plaintiff

under the rolling pin

of progress, undirected asphalt sovereign

lords of deafness, under their hoods

we see the glowing eyes

are hypnotic, sticking us

with the bill, none are an ally

of any dead men pulling, permanent casino fixtures

glimpse hope as impossible.

 

I can see the hatch, above so small

to crawl through a crack

seems death down, to the core

of everyone, but they beg our pardon

telling to try again, once more to the breach

dear friends depart, clanking the shutters

down over the exit hole, glimpse the opponent

in the eyes, looking through

the mirror and me, locked in savage

combat of love

music art making,

Poem: Ring the Bell