InRO Weekly — Volume 1, Issue 16

FILM REVIEWS
possession game, and one has to wonder how he would react to a
movie that features him repeatedly taking swigs from a flask and
washing his sweaty pits with holy water — pious as he is, he does
at least say a Hail Mary before that last transgression. So yes, this
priest is a bit of a rapscallion, bellowing “Cuckoo!” while walking
around Vatican City and chasing after large groups of nuns, all in
the name of a laugh. But there’s nothing funny about evil, and
Amorth is appalled when a new group of senior advisors within
the Church try to tell him how to do his job. The heartless
bureaucrats are slashing jobs while refuting the existence of evil,
a curious detail to include in a film set in 1987, although one
would be hard-pressed to determine the exact era, so
unconcerned is the end product in such trifling details. (But hey,
The Pope’s Exorcist is woke to the evils of corporate capitalism!)
The Pope himself (Franco Nero), however, is on Amorth’s side, and
there are certainly worse people to have in your corner.
Meanwhile, in an abbey in the countryside of Spain, an American
family consisting of mom Julie (Alex Essoe) and kids Amy (Laurel
Marsden) and Henry (Peter DeSouza-Feighoney) have arrived to
commence construction on a new home and start a new life after
the car crash death of their beloved patriarch a year earlier.
Henry was present for the event, and was so traumatized by what
he saw that he hasn’t spoken a word since; this tracks when the
film abruptly flashes back to that fateful night for a single shot
from Henry’s POV that consists of the father with a piece of rebar
impaled through his skull. Again, nice touch. Turns out, this abbey
has a storied history of evil, and it isn’t long before the
construction crew has inadvertently awakened a long-dormant
demonic entity that immediately possesses the young and
emotionally prone Henry. Cut to the young boy honking boobs and
smashing heads though porcelain sinks, all while repeating the
word “fuck” more times than Joe Pesci in Goodfellas. (Bonus
points for a film concerning exorcisms that is actually rated-R
and leans heavily into that lane.) Amorth is soon called to the
manor, and discovers that this possession may be the real deal,
especially after the demon discusses long-buried secrets and
sins from the Father’s past. He teams up with a local priest by the
name of Esquibel (Daniel Zovatto), because dude could use the
help, especially when it’s discovered that somehowboth this
demon and the property are linked to the Church itself, ultimately
exposing its attempt to cover-up its role in the Spanish
Inquisition(!). No wonder Amorth is so sweaty.
The degree to which The Pope’s Exorcist attempts to be both
reverent and critical of the Catholic Church is as compellingly
ridiculous as everything else on display, a story of how individual
goodness can triumph over systemic rot. But lest you think the
movie sounds more serious or profound than it actually is, Avery
is not the least bit interested in anything resembling depth or
authenticity, and thank God for that. Every facet of the
production is consistent in its intentional key of borderline camp,
from Crowe’s voracious scenery-chewing to the cheap-looking
production design to the SyFy Channel-level visual effects.
There’s simply no denying the certain charm of watching an
obvious rubber doll with the voice of Ralph Ineson refer to a
priest as a “panty sniffer.” And then there’s the film’s climactic
showdown, which sees Father Esquibel throw a cross to Amorth
but with the holy relic meant to mimic a gun. Avery somehow
even manages to sneak some gratuitous female nudity into the
proceedings, because of course he does, and also leaves the
door open for 199 — yes, 199! — possible sequels, with Amorth
commenting that a replacement will be needed somewhere down
the road. The Pope’s Exorcist is exactly what this stale subgenre
needed — a blast of gory, goofy fun in a desert of dire solemnity.
Personally, this critic will take ten more entries minimum, so long
as they include even more scenes of the Pope projectilevomiting
blood into people’s faces. Thank God, thank the devil,
thank the demons — this movie is good. — STEVEN WARNER
DIRECTOR: Julius Avery; CAST: Russell Crowe, Daniel Zovatto,
Alex Essoe, Franco Nero; DISTRIBUTOR: Sony Pictures; IN
THEATERS: April 14; RUNTIME: 1 hr. 43 min.
SOMEWHERE IN QUEENS
Ray Romano
After Jerry Seinfeld and his "What's the deal?" color commentary
on the silliness of the quotidian struck gold in Seinfeld,
comedians started to habitually appear in comedies and sitcoms,
popping up like dandelions, most of it harmless. But rarely was
anyone or anything as incisively irreverent or eccentric or
intelligent as what Seinfeld and Larry David did. Everybody Loves
Raymond, starring Ray Romano as a version of himself but in
Long Island instead of Queens, is one of these unremarkable
shows that, nonetheless, makes for pleasurable background
viewing, a pleasant concatenation of a decade’s
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