The Exorcist
The review
The Exorcist is widely regarded as the greatest horror film ever made, and it's the rare genre picture that outgrew its genre entirely. Friedkin, arriving fresh off an Oscar-winning crime thriller, shoots the material with documentary-style realism and meticulous, unhurried craft: a slow-burn accumulation of dread in a Georgetown townhouse, grounded by Ellen Burstyn's performance as a working actress trying to hold her life together while her daughter deteriorates, Jason Miller's quietly tormented, doubting priest, and Max von Sydow's weary veteran exorcist. The film treats possession as a genuine crisis of faith rather than a carnival attraction, and that seriousness — along with Owen Roizman's shadow-laced cinematography and a sound design that became legendary — is why it still commands respect half a century on. Its cultural footprint is immense: it was a box-office phenomenon, earned a Best Picture nomination (a rarity for horror), and reshaped the genre it belongs to.
Not everyone surrendered at the time. Critics initially split sharply, with a prominent minority dismissing the film as exploitative shock — a 'gaudy special-effects freakout' dressed up as seriousness. Those charges look quaint in retrospect, but they capture the film's genuine excess: the famous set pieces remain the most imitated and parodied images in horror, and modern viewers can find them dated, especially anyone who absorbed decades of knockoffs before ever seeing the original. Even the cryptic final scene divides opinion, and Friedkin himself confessed he found it baffling. The complaints are real, but they are dwarfed by the verdict of fifty years: the film's power to unsettle has survived its own legend.
At its core, The Exorcist is a meditation on evil, doubt, and the possibility of grace — and the disagreement that persists tracks mostly along whether you read it as profound or sensational, whether the shocks are the point or the delivery system. The initial reception was genuinely mixed; the long-run consensus is not. The film has been preserved in the National Film Registry, is routinely ranked among the best American films of its decade, and its reputation has only grown as the imitations have aged faster than the original.
Who it's for
Viewers who like prestige, artfully crafted horror that takes its subject seriously; fans of 1970s New Hollywood filmmaking and slow-burn dread over jump scares; and anyone interested in the meeting point of horror and religion, or in seeing a genre-defining landmark in its original form. It also rewards repeat viewings — the craftsmanship of the buildup is as admired as the shocks.
Who it's not for
Sensitive viewers, especially around violence or suffering involving a child; those who dislike explicit religious imagery or blasphemy; viewers who prefer fast-paced modern horror, since the film builds slowly for its first half and its practical effects read as dated by contemporary standards; and anyone so saturated in decades of parodies and imitations that the iconic moments may land as camp rather than terror. Some viewers report the film simply no longer frightens them — its shocks have been assimilated by the culture that copied them. — Graphic bodily horror (including projectile vomiting and contortion) · Disturbing imagery involving a child · Gore · Religious desecration and blasphemy · Medical procedure footage (invasive testing, needles) · Self-harm imagery · Explicit language
Birds of a feather...
- FilmPet Sematary (1989)






The other great horror film about a parent's anguish as a child is consumed by something beyond explanation. Its documentary realism, slow-burn structure, and grim seriousness about grief, faith, and evil make it a natural companion in both tone and theme.
73% - FilmCarrie (1976)






Religious dread centered on a young girl whose body becomes a battleground, with a desperate mother at the emotional core. Its documentary realism and tragic gravity match Carrie's blend of the supernatural and the painfully human, and both refuse easy moral answers.
68% - FilmSeven Samurai (1954)






Seven Samurai and 'The Exorcist' both treat heroism as a weary, costly obligation rather than triumph. Each unfolds with deliberate, slow-burn pacing, sustains a relentlessly serious tone punctuated by dark humor, and refuses false resolution, leaving the viewer with philosophical weight about sacrifice, evil, and the limits of human agency.
65% - FilmChristine (1983)






The archetypal possession story, and a thematic cousin: a malevolent force takes hold of a vulnerable host while loved ones watch helplessly. Its patient slow burn and documentary-style realism create the same uneasy feeling that something ordinary has gone horribly wrong.
59% - FilmAlien (1979)






Both use slow-burn horror and bodily violation to unsettle, building dread through atmosphere and a sense of powerlessness against unknown forces.
55% - FilmThe Dead Zone (1983)






Serious, grim supernatural cinema that treats its fantastic premise with documentary gravity: a slow burn, philosophical weight about belief and sacrifice, and horror as a crisis of the soul rather than a thrill machine. Grimmer and more physically assaultive than The Dead Zone, but the same species of adult, ideas-forward genre filmmaking.
55% - FilmDoctor Sleep (2019)






A landmark of serious supernatural horror about a gifted child in danger and adults wrestling with belief, evil, and the possibility of grace. Its slow-burn gravity, moral seriousness, and refusal of easy answers match the film's tone more than its plot.
52% - FilmThe Shawshank Redemption (1994)






Both films follow isolated individuals enduring dehumanizing institutions and finding meaning through belief and connection rather than escape. The Shawshank Redemption shares 'The Exorcist''s patient structure and spiritual stakes, though it replaces supernatural dread with human endurance; each rewards viewers invested in hope, dignity, and the cost of maintaining faith.
50%





