The Ritual

In a world where two or three exorcism movies are being released each year, you have to do something special to make your mark. Unfortunately, The Ritual is about as bland as you can get from an exorcism movie.

It's first issue is that it commits the cardinal sin of not being remotely scary or creepy. Partly this is because everything it is doing has been done to death, and has been done better in other films. Partly it is because it doesn't even seem to try too hard to cultivate a spooky atmosphere. The whole tone and look of the film is just dull.

The performances are OK, but nothing special. Al Pacino is wasted in a pretty formulaic role, and Dan Stevens does his best to put meat on the sparse bones of a beleaguered priest tasked with hosting the exorcism. It is a wonder how such a good cast was assembled for such a poor film.

Ultimately though, I do think this film falls apart with its story. It is just so formulaic and derivative of the exorcism genre. I knew every single story beat that was going to happen before it did. Nothing here is remotely new. I think they rested on their laurels due to the fact it was based on a real story, but that doesn't make it any better. The whole thing just lacked any real theatricality or spark.

Of all the exorcism films that I've seen in recent years, this is most definitely one of the least inspiring. One to avoid.

I thought that Russell Crowe had cornered the market in crappy exorcism films, but The Ritual proves me wrong: anything Crowe can do, Al Pacino can do just as bad, if not worse: Al's lackluster performance as elderly Father Theophilus Riesinger is a career low. Not that Pacino is all to blame for this tired and predictable possession flick: David Midell's direction is atrocious, with horrible, wobbly, reportage-style camerawork making the film a strain on the eyes, while his script is a messy hodge-podge of well-worn clichés that have been done to death ever since Regan first spewed up pea soup over 50 years ago.

In The Exorcist, it was easy for the viewer to feel empathy for the little girl who unwillingly played host to Pazuzu, since director William Friedkin was mindful to introduce us to her before the demon took hold. The fact that Linda Blair was so loveable and cherubic before becoming a foul-mouthed, head-turning beast with a crucifix up her snatch made her transformation all the more horrific. Not so with The Ritual, which immediately jumps into the deep end, poor possessed Emma writhing and drooling uncontrollably from the get go. We know very little about the woman, which makes it very hard for the viewer to care about what is happening to her. The only reason I was keen to see the demon driven from her body was that the film would finally be over.

Sadly, it takes several tedious rituals to achieve the desired result, none of which deliver anything we haven't seen many times before: we get some vomiting, guttural swearing, and levitation, with observer Father Joseph Steiger (Dan Stevens) struggling with his faith a la Damien Karras. One might imagine that the best would have been saved for last, but the final ritual, in which the priests successfully exorcise the demon, is a damp squib: it's loud and chaotic, but there's nothing shocking, and it's over before you can say Captain Howdy, everybody living happily ever after (as the film's closing captions inform us).

I rate The Ritual 1/10: it's formulaic, boring, unimaginative and utterly banal garbage. Those of us stupid enough to stay to the end exited the theatre in a hurry.