The Devil’s in the Details: Why Boorman and the Devil Is More Than Just a Documentary
There’s something undeniably captivating about Hollywood’s failures—especially when they’re as spectacular as Exorcist II: The Heretic. But what makes Boorman and the Devil, David Kittredge’s documentary about the making of this infamous sequel, so intriguing isn’t just its subject matter. It’s the way it forces us to reconsider what we value in cinema. Personally, I think this documentary is less about Exorcist II and more about the audacity of creativity itself.
The Heretic’s Legacy: A Failure Worth Revisiting
Let’s be honest: Exorcist II: The Heretic is often remembered as a punchline in Hollywood history. A critical and commercial flop, it’s the kind of sequel that makes you wonder, “What were they thinking?” But here’s the thing: what if the real story isn’t about its failure, but about the ambition behind it? Director John Boorman took a massive creative risk, and while it didn’t pay off at the time, it’s a reminder that cinema thrives on bold swings.
What many people don’t realize is that Boorman wasn’t just some random director handed a franchise. He was a visionary behind films like Point Blank and Deliverance. So, when Warner Bros. offered him the chance to helm the Exorcist sequel, he wasn’t just making a horror movie—he was trying to redefine what a sequel could be. In my opinion, this is where the documentary shines. It doesn’t just rehash the film’s failures; it celebrates the courage it took to try something so wildly different.
The Art of Ambitions Gone Awry
One thing that immediately stands out is the documentary’s refusal to treat Exorcist II as a cautionary tale. Instead, it frames it as a testament to the importance of artistic risk. Interviews with Boorman, Linda Blair, and other industry heavyweights like Karyn Kusama and Mike Flanagan add depth to this narrative. They don’t just defend the film—they dissect it, revealing the complexities of a project that was perhaps too ahead of its time.
From my perspective, this is where the documentary becomes more than just a behind-the-scenes look. It’s a meditation on failure and its role in artistic growth. Boorman’s career was undeniably altered by Exorcist II, but the film also became a catalyst for broader conversations about creativity in Hollywood. If you take a step back and think about it, isn’t that what great art does? It challenges us, even when it fails.
Why This Documentary Matters Now
In an era where blockbusters dominate and originality often takes a backseat to profitability, Boorman and the Devil feels like a timely reminder of what we’ve lost. Personally, I miss the days when studios were willing to take risks on ambitious projects, even if they didn’t always succeed. This documentary isn’t just a love letter to Boorman—it’s a call to arms for filmmakers and audiences alike to embrace boldness.
What this really suggests is that the film industry needs more stories like this. Not just to celebrate failure, but to reframe it as an essential part of the creative process. As Kittredge puts it, “Big creative swings are what going to the movies is all about.” And he’s right. Without those swings, cinema becomes stagnant.
A Deeper Question: What Do We Value in Cinema?
This raises a deeper question: Do we value safety over innovation? Exorcist II may have been a commercial disaster, but it’s a film that people still talk about decades later. Compare that to the countless forgettable sequels and reboots we get today. In my opinion, the documentary forces us to confront our own biases about what makes a film ‘successful.’
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the documentary doesn’t shy away from the film’s flaws. It doesn’t try to rehabilitate Exorcist II’s reputation so much as it invites us to appreciate it on its own terms. This isn’t about revisionist history—it’s about understanding the context and the intent behind the film.
Final Thoughts: A Documentary That Demands Reflection
Will Boorman and the Devil change how you feel about Exorcist II: The Heretic? Maybe, maybe not. But what it will do is make you think—about creativity, failure, and the risks we’re willing to take. Personally, I’m thrilled that this documentary is finally getting a theatrical release. It’s not just for horror fans or cinephiles; it’s for anyone who’s ever wondered what happens when ambition outpaces expectation.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how it connects to broader trends in filmmaking. As we see more and more franchises playing it safe, Boorman and the Devil serves as a reminder of what’s possible when filmmakers dare to dream big. So, will I be checking it out in theaters? Absolutely. Because, in the end, this isn’t just a documentary—it’s a celebration of the kind of filmmaking we don’t see enough of anymore.
