Review
Culture
Fun & play
4 min read

Silly fun, serious question

The Pope’s Exorcist ask viewers what is it to have faith in the face of true and terrifying inexplicable evil. Priest Yaroslav Walker reviews.
A priest holds a cross up in his hand in a chaotic environment while a colleague looks on
Father Amorth in action, played with commitment by Russell Crowe.
Sony Pictures.

It goes without saying that all contemporary films about demonic possession and exorcism are seen in the light of the great masterwork. 1973’s The Exorcist is pretty much a perfect encapsulation of what an exorcism film needs to have: believable characters, a strong script, proper pacing, and a genuine respect for the concept of the supernatural – all culminating in an opportunity for the viewer to wrestle with their faith. Exorcism films rise or fall by the metric this cinematic cornerstone inaugurated. I’m pleased to say that The Pope’s Exorcist does a reasonably decent job. 

Let’s be clear: it’s silly fun, and a bit of candy-floss fluff, which allows Russell Crowe to launch an assault on yet another accent. Yet, sugary-sweet fun is no bad thing, and underneath the loving horror-genre-cliché surface, there is something of substance to consider. The plot is standard: afflicted family – Julia and her children Amy and Henry – arrive in Spain to oversee the restoration of an old Abbey Julia’s late-husband left the family. Boy is possessed. Boy cannot be saved by medical science, so the exorcist saves the day.  

The performances are all committed, and you can tell the performers are having a great time, Crowe especially.

The possession is quick and effective with scenes suddenly cutting from the horrifying to sanitised medical procedures (an homage, I think, to the great original). Attempts to explain matters away scientifically are attempted and quickly abandoned, and the film is proudly unambiguous. The Holy Father knows of this Abbey, and its dark history, and personally tasks Crowe’s Amorth with uncovering the truth. The film’s pacing is excellent in the first half, and wastes little time in introducing the main players. The script is sharp and lean (for the most part), with minimal exposition, allowing details to emerge naturally. The performances are all committed, and you can tell the performers are having a great time, Crowe especially. The final third is tremendously silly and overblown, and probably could have been cut down dramatically, but one can forgive it its excess for the themes it raises. 

Purportedly based on the autobiographical writing of the late Father Gabriel Amorth, sometime exorcist for the Diocese of Rome, The Pope’s Exorcist could be viewed as shifting the burden of the question posed by the 1973 classic (what does it mean to have faith in the face of true and terrifying inexplicable evil?) to the institutional level. It is 1987 and the winds of modernity are blowing hard. Amorth (Crowe) is a contradiction of a priest – he rides a Vespa scooter, jokes around with nuns, and demonstrates a relaxed attitude with those in authority, and yet his faith in God and his belief in the supernatural is solid. He works tirelessly in a world and a Church that balks at him: expecting rigidity and conformity in outward appearance, yet sceptically admonishing him for his belief. It could’ve just as easily been set in 2023. Such themes resonate in the context of a Western Church still struggling for self-definition in a modern world of which it is ‘in’ but never meant to be ‘of’.

The film is very much speaking into the moment. What is the supernatural, and does the Church even believe in it? 

The question the film raise (whether it means to or not) is how will the Church see itself and its mission in the coming decades. Early on Amorth is admonished by an American cardinal who is intent on making the Church more ‘relevant’ to the modern sceptical generation. He sees little use for the office of exorcist, and seems to disregard the supernatural as fantasy. As Amorth investigates the possession he learns the dark truth of the Abbey and its role in the Spanish Inquisition. He is confronted with the pernicious persistence of sin – his sins, the sins of those around him, and the historic sins of the Church. 

The film is very much speaking into the moment. What is the supernatural, and does the Church even believe in it? What is evil, and what does it mean for a man and for the Church to truly deal with sin? How can the Church speak into a world that does not believe, and yet is not equipped to confront the reality of evil?  

As the film reaches its conclusion it becomes clear that the Enemy does not wish to simply possess a child, but wishes to possess the Church. Watching the film in view of the present struggles the faith faces – a struggle over the very definition of sin, evil, redemption, etc – one can read the demon as a stand-in for the Spirit of the Age. Whether it means to or not, The Pope’s Exorcist asks the viewer to genuinely tackle the question of who ought to direct the Church – contemporary mores or the eternal truth of Christ? The final scene gives a hopeful answer while also hinting at the possibility of sequels. It is camp, it is silly, but it affirms life, goodness, truth, and faith, and I wouldn’t say no to another outing for Crowe as Amorth. 

 

Article
Culture
Fun & play
Holidays/vacations
Mental Health
5 min read

I disobeyed Disney’s command to 'celebrate happy’

You don’t have to live your best life

Natalie produces and narrates The Seen & Unseen Aloud podcast. She's an Anglican minister and a trained actor.

A family pose for a picture at Disneyland
Disneyland.

I’ve just got back from a wonderful family holiday in California. And, of course, we couldn’t take our teenage daughters to California and not go to Disneyland.  

This year marks the seventieth anniversary of Disneyland, the Californian theme park conceived and built by Walt Disney, which opened in 1955. We forget now that this was a revolutionary concept in its time and wonderfully founded on the wholesome notion of creating a place where families could immerse themselves in an imaginative world; where parents and children could play and have fun together. In our screen-obsessed, individualist, loneliness-epidemic age, that continues to be a very good idea. 

We spent two days at Disneyland which proved enough time for me to have a chat and selfie with Iron Man; become a Space Ranger firing lasers alongside Buzz Lightyear; go on a turbulent adventure through a dangerous lost temple with Indiana Jones; and even join the Rise of the Resistance to be chased by some mean-looking Storm Troopers. Good times. 

However, a point of friction for me, ironically, was the theme for Disneyland's 70th anniversary celebration: "Celebrate Happy".   

I think Disneyland is great. A place designed for families and friends to have fun together absolutely gets my jaunty thumbs up. But I got increasingly annoyed by being told I should be happy all the time. Apart from anything else, the motto was clearly coined by someone who has never experienced the greatest irony of all: Disney Leg.  

Disney Leg (grown-up name Cutaneous Vasculitis, also experienced when playing golf) is a form of small blood vessel inflammation resulting swelling, a purplish rash, burning sensation and itching caused by walking or standing for hours at a time in high temperatures. It occurs most commonly in women in their late 40s or early 50s. I was one such woman. And I can tell you for nothing that Disney Leg is no celebrator of happy.  

Disney leg may have made me more Eeyore than Tigger, but my Disney experience was also framed by reading Kate Bowler’s wonderful book, Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I've Loved. I love Kate Bowler. I want her to be my best friend, forever. I want to be her when I grow up.  

I first met her when I listened in to the Seen & Unseen Live that featured her in conversation with Graham Tomlin. She introduces herself saying, “I’m Kate. I’m a Duke professor, podcaster and author with a single mission: giving you a little more permission to admit that you’re not always ‘living your best life’. After years of being told I was incurable, I was declared cancer-free. But there’s no going back. I am forever changed by what I discovered: life is so beautiful and life is so hard.”  

For everyone.” Kate is leading her own Rise of Resistance as she resists the tyranny of the wide and pervasive culture of extreme positivity that could also be summed up as “celebrate happy”.  

If my life is a failure because I’m not happy all the time, then how do I find the courage and hope that I need when faced with suffering or challenge? 

If Kate had been there, she wouldn’t have insisted that I celebrate happy, she would have found some shade and a bucket of iced water for me to immerse my Disney ankles in. She would have listened to me describe my discomfort with compassion and empathy such that I would then also feel able to tell her about how much I was enjoying myself. 

You see, I believe that the way towards “happy” isn’t through denial of suffering. It can’t be. We all know that life can be unbearably hard as well as achingly funny. To deny one is to negate the reality of the other. And to make “happy” our life goal is to exclude so much else that is beautiful in its complexity. If my life is a failure because I’m not happy all the time, then how do I find the courage and hope that I need when faced with suffering or challenge? And suffering and challenge are an everyday part of life that we simply cannot choose to ignore. The unpaid bills, the cancer diagnosis, the broken relationship - these things don’t go away or hurt less when I insist that I’m living my best life. 

Some of the best times of my life have occurred at exactly the moment when life has been hardest. Because that’s when I’ve had to acknowledge that I’m not in control of everything; that there is something, Someone, bigger and more powerful and more glorious than anything this world can offer me. If I insist on making happiness my god, I might easily miss out on the God who loved me so much he was prepared to suffer and die for me. My best life is found not in “happiness” but in the truth of God’s sacrificial love for me. 

I don’t mean to denigrate Disney at all. I think the Disney DNA of fun and a warm welcome give the rest of us much to learn from. Did you know that the people who walk around Disneyland dressed up as the famous Disney characters are highly trained, including the golden rule: when a child hugs you, you don’t let go until they do. Isn’t that beautiful? (I wonder how that would play out if I insisted on that in my church?)  But I do want to take the focus off the demand to “celebrate happy” and be free to celebrate the wider experience of life as well. 

What I took from my Disney/Kate Bowler sandwich is that the best of life comes from embracing the highs and lows; being honest about and unafraid of mixed feelings.  

Life is, as Ronan Keating once said, a rollercoster, just got to ride it. But also, I would add, life is getting fed up in the queue to get on the ride. Life is also feeling too hot or tired and needing to sit down. Life is also looking at your photos afterwards and realising that Tinkerbell has photobombed you. And I believe that all of that is to be celebrated, along with the happy. 

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