Last Monday I wrote about one of the best horror movies—indeed, one of the best movies—of all time, 1973’s The Exorcist.  My review barely dipped into the complex religious themes of the movie, as well many of the flick’s subtle shades of implication and visual storytelling.

Today I’m reviewing what is intended to be a modern sequel/reboot of the classic, arriving fifty years later:  2023’s The Exorcist: Believer.  Well, you’d better believe(r) that it doesn’t stack up to the original.

The Exorcist: Believer was never going to “stack up to the original,” to be clear.  It’s difficult, maybe even impossible, to catch cinematic lightning in a bottle twice.  But The Exorcist: Believer, despite sharing several story beats with the original, falls far short of even being a worthy successor.

The film suffers from so many of the tendencies of modern Hollywood movies:  it’s too long (although under two hours, thank goodness!); it’s too derivative of the superior source material; and it’s too woke.  On the last point I will argue that it could have been worse, but the it laid on the multiculturalism pretty thickly.

When I saw The Exorcist on the big screen, I was riveted.  It was hard to look away, even as horrific as some of the scenes were (and they still hold up after fifty years).  When I saw The Exorcist: Believer (just one week later!), I was… bored.  I actually found myself wishing I hadn’t scarfed down my tub of popcorn as quickly as I had so I’d have something to keep me occupied while I watched the movie.

In the spirit of quasi-sequels, the film tried to be The Exorcist, but bigger.  Why not possess two girls instead of one?  Why not have representatives from all the religions (well, a handful of them, anyway) instead of just one?

It also spews pea soup all over the characters from the original.  Ellen Burstyn is back as Chris MacNeil, Regan’s mother from the original.  She apparently cashed in on her daughter’s exorcism with a tell-all book, ruining their relationship.  She acts as some kind of Obi-Wan Kenobi of exorcisms, even though she has never performed one.  Burstyn also has the cringiest line in the movie, when she says that she wasn’t allowed into the room with the exorcists because, “their damn patriarchy wouldn’t let me into the room.”  It’s a clear nod to “Modern Audiences.”

So is the ecumenical approach to exorcism.  As Burstyn’s character explains, all religious traditions have some form of exorcism (probably true).  But this time, the possession is so bad, a team of superheroes must team up to fight evil!  There is the well-groomed Baptist preacher; a Pentecostal preacher (wooooot!), and a practitioner of hoodoo.  The Catholic Church won’t endorse the exorcism, but the priest ends up getting involved.

I’m not necessarily opposed to this idea—although I would be in a real life exorcism—and it could have been intriguing.  The problem is that even amidst this incredibly dangerous dual possession, everyone is pretty chill.  Seriously, it’s incredibly noticeable, and everyone sounds like they’re in the locker room before a football game:  “yeah, we’ve got this!  We can do it together!”  The hoodoo lady calmly does her witchcraft and the Baptist preacher awkwardly but confidently goes along.  The Pentecostal guy just raises his hands in the air like he’s listening to Chris Tomlin in a strip mall church.

In the original film, the demon is killing people left and right.  The demon in this flick kills [SPOILERS]—I’m pretty sure—just one person (not counting one of the girls—oops, spoilers!).

The one unsettling part of the flick is when the father of the white girl desperately accepts the demon’s proposal to free his daughter instead of the black girl.  Naturally, this deal with the Devil backfires, and the girl is dragged into Hell, her earthly body flatlining.

The Red Letter Media review of the film suggests how unfair the little girl’s damnation is, as she didn’t do anything wrong (other than try to contact the spirit of the black girl’s decease mother—c’mon!).  I think that makes it even scarier and more unsettling–and fitting:  the father played with two little girl’s souls, and sacrificed his daughter to Satan due to his selfishness.

Of course, the father is the religious white dad (with two other kids, who are barely shown).  At one point he complains that the local police department is protecting “a bunch of f*ckin’ bums” when his daughter and the black girl go missing.  Naturally, this tells the audience that White Man Bad and that White Christian is Hypocrite because he doesn’t show adequate compassion towards a group of homeless individuals (who later mock him, suggesting his daughter has run away so she can get laid—truly grotesque considering the girls are supposed to be about twelve or thirteen).  The audience knows this guy is going to make things worse.

On the contrast, the black father is the vision of virtue and restraint, risking everything to save his daughter.  Everyone knows from the first introduction of the black daughter that she’s going to be okay in the end.

That said, the film does offer a sensitive and positive portrayal of Christian faith.  The hypocrite dad’s wife is very insistent that there are demonic forces at play, and she immediately recognizes the demon’s bargain for the manipulative trickery that it is.  The two Protestant pastors are very willing to risk their lives and to live our their faiths to save the little girls.  It’s not a constant mockery of Christianity, which is more than be written about most films, and that’s refreshing.

All of the wokeness and such aside, though, it’s just not a good movie.  It aspires to live up to the reputation of the original, but it fails to get there.  With Danny McBride as one of the writers of the story the film is based on, it’s little wonder this movie isn’t that great.  Getting the dude who wrote stoner comedies in the last decade to pick up where William Peter Blatty left off is like getting Pee Wee Herman to tag in for Mike Tyson.

If the film were at least entertaining—and, to be fair, it is at points—it would be worth seeing for horror fans.  But unless you’re a diehard The Exorcist completionist, you’re better off skipping this one—or watching The Exorcist II (1977).