Spotlight.

I have always wondered why The Exorcist has never terrified me. I have seen it on several occasions, under several states - more often than not alone in the middle of the night - and it has never spooked me, not even in that "boo" way some stupid films always do. I have come to realize the reason of this is because The Exorcist isn't really a horror movie, at least not in the sense it thinks it is. The movie is not about demons and possessions, it's about a different kind of devil: Hollywood.

Why does the possession have to happen to the daughter of a movie star? Chris MacNeil as played by Ellen Burstyn is the epitome of a Hollywood personality; liberal, a non-believer, dedicated to her craft. Why does the possession happen to her daughter and not a secretary's or a doctor's?

Perhaps the idea was precisely to highlight why things like these happen to non-believers but instead what the movie highlights is the idea of spectacle as seen through demonic possessions or movies.

Could there be any other reason why the movie's most iconic shot, feels so much like a staged entrance?

One of the earliest scenes in the film even anticipates this moment, as we see the spotlights being prepared for the movie Chris is working on.

Later, as the exorcism proceeds, we see the young girl floating while the terrified priests try to help her. The idea that both devils and Hollywood crews can make people fly is presented to us during an earlier scene where we see Chris discussing the movie, while in the background a crate is pushed around. Element which later might be used to lift actress Linda Blair from her bed.

Notice how the crate lingers in the back, not even the characters seem to notice its presence, a prescient reminder that the magic of movies isn't supposed to be obvious. All of this leads us to my favorite shot in the movie:

A shot, so cinematic that it begs to be seen more than once. Here the movie becomes aware of its own movie-ness, since we're the only ones who see this creepy face flash in Chris' house and if a demon's face was to flash behind our backs, who would get scared? The movie reveals it's not about the characters' interests but about the audience's. Burstyn has her best damsel in distress look and the demonic face appears for a mere instant, reminding us that regardless of our religious beliefs, the movies have always had the possibility to thrill us in unison.

This post is part of Nat's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" series.

High and Dry.

I have to confess that before writing this post I had never been able to make it through an entire viewing of Requiem for a Dream, not because I found it too bleak or gruesome or whatever (Lars von Trier and Michael Haneke are two of my favorite filmmakers...) but because I always felt it was entirely over hyped and to be honest not that good a movie.
Things haven't really changed in the nine years that have gone by after my first attempt to watch it, so don't think this will include a change of heart.
In fact I never got what the buzz about Darren Aronofsky was all about until I saw The Wrestler...but that's another story.

Given that I had to choose my favorite shot of the movie this time I had to look at it with a more critical eye and in doing so I realized that the thing that has always bothered me about this movie was how obvious everything is.
It's nothing but a morbid look at drugs disguised as a cautionary tale, Aronofsky's direction in fact is almost reactionary in the way he condemns and judges all his characters.
This was never more obvious to me than in the film's opening scene where we see Sara Goldfarb (Ellen Burstyn) lock herself in a closet when her son Harry (Jared Leto) arrives at her house.
At first we have no idea what's going on and assume he will beat her up.

She looks through the keyhole terrified as Harry bangs and throws a tantrum. Then we see what he's after; he's trying to pawn his mother's precious television set once again.
He's done it so many times before that she has chained it to the heater.
In this precise shot where through split screen we see the terrified woman looking at her son's behavior and his attempt to steal the chained TV, we have the essence of the entire movie.
Notice how beyond Sara and Harry there's someone else in the shot: the person looking at Sara.
In this case the camera serves as Aronofsky's eye as he lets us know that the movie to follow will be his look at how people who succumb to drugs are chained to addiction.
The use of the word "chained" is by no means a pun, given that Aronofsky's visual language, and well, the chain tied to the TV, make it clear what he's referring to.
Throughout the whole Requiem for a Dream we are reminded by the director of how monstrous this people can be, he wears his sensibility on his camera and the movie suffers greatly because of it.


A following sequence of shots proves Aronofsky's judgment (or perhaps a slight attempt at some sense of humor) when we see Sara give Harry the keys to the TV lock.
She carries it in a chain (another one...) around her neck and when she gives it to Harry, for a minute we have the impression she's handing something sacred.
It's no coincidence that for a second the shiny balls of the chain remind us of rosary beads.


After all, addiction, is their religion.


This post is part of the Hit Me With Your Best Shot series, hosted by the fabulous and quite addictive, Nat of The Film Experience.