1 out of 5

For “Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes”, I wrote it was this movie season’s poster child for needing an apathetic studio executive to mercifully cut 45 minutes off the overlong film like amputating gangrene. Today’s “The Exorcism” is what happens when you cut too much: it’s abrupt; obfuscating; and, frankly, embarrassing.

The whole time I was trying to put my finger on exactly what wasn’t working: some lousy dialogue and CGI. But I wasn’t expecting a masterpiece: surely a one-star review cheesy lines & VFX does not make?

Nevertheless, events in The Exorcism transpire almost transitionlessly: Russell Crowe’s disgraced actor Tony Miller goes from recovering alcoholic to back on the bottle, and possessed, all in the first act; Samantha Mathis shows up for less than a minute as the executive for the comeback film Miller is working on, and ditto for Sam Worthington as his co-star; and the less said about the slapdash finale with a wasted David Hyde Pierce, the better.

There seemed to be enough working ingredients that either the story should have been told as drama (concentrating on the strained relationship between Miller and his estranged daughter in-and-around environments non-conducive to healing, like a movie set) or as a harder version of what we got here. For instance, Miller isn’t fired from the meta-film for almost three weeks, and by then he’s so far gone that he’s full-on contorting. Why wasn’t he let go sooner? This could have been solved by having a scene with Mathis saying they’re “over-budget and over-schedule” and another delay would kill the film, but it’s not here.

The Exorcism reeks of being hacked to pieces in post-production, when someone in a suit told the editors to concentrate on the horror instead of the plot. I’m not saying that a longer version actually exists, or that it would be better than what we got in the end: movies lose scenes in the filmmaking process all the time, and the public isn’t always privileged to the DVD leftovers. But I imagine another movie ten-times better lost in a warehouse somewhere: an allegory about moviemaking and how the script becomes its own monster and feasts on the egos of those involved, with Adam Goldberg (doing great work here as the meta-film’s director) the Machiavellian ringmaster.

There’s a more interesting film here that’s had its textured ends removed like calf testicles.