Schrader’s Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist

If ever there was a “cursed” film, this film would be it. For starters, John Frankenheimer was hired to direct, but had to withdraw for health reasons, tragically passing away shortly thereafter. Paul Schrader took his place, stepping into what would be one of his worst studio battles (and he had more than his share). Eventually, they hired yet another director to re-write, re-edit, and largely re-shoot the picture, but the results were so poorly received, Schrader was brought back to reshape his original footage into something salvageable. Eventually, his cut released one day after Star Wars: Revenge of the Stith opened. Cursed, right? However, William Peter Blatty had some nice things to say about Schrader’s Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist, which viewers can judge for themselves when it airs Tuesday night on the Movies! digital channel.

Arguably, the cruelty of the National Socialists Father Lankester Merrin witnesses in the prologue might be worse than that of the demon. The young Dutch parish priest was forced to make a horrific “Sophie’s Choice.” Since then, his position in the Church has been iffy and his faith even iffier. While he and they decide his future as a priest, Merrin works on archaeological digs throughout Africa, as a civilian.

His latest excavation in Kenya is a little….weird. Apparently, a pristine 5^th Century Byzantine church was buried under the sand as soon as it was completed. The art and architecture inside are stunning, but uncharacteristically, the statues of the Archangel Michael are pointed downward, in a protective posture.

As we all expect, inexplicable violent incidents start happening after the site is unearthed. The local tribe is particularly restive, so Major Granville arrives with his troops, which only further fans unrest. Father Merrin tries to defuse tempers, with the help of Father Francis, a devout missionary, and Dr. Rachel Lesno, a Holocaust survivor, who also suffers from painful memories of the war.

While the village and tribe descend into hatred, Cheche, the shunned beggar afflicted with woeful birth defects, makes a suspiciously “miraculous” recovery. Of course, horror fans know if something looks too good to be true, it is probably very bad news.

Reportedly, the studio wanted more jump scares, earlier and more consistently. Yet, the thoughtfulness of Schrader’s cut is its greatest strength. Obviously, we know what is coming. Ironically, the more Schrader forestalls the fire and brimstone, the more suspense he builds. The script, originally credited to William Wisher and Caleb Carr explores themes of evil and faith with surprising insight. Again, this adds further fuel to the demonic horrors, when they finally come. Plus, the design work that produced the hidden church is quite amazing.

Stellan Skarsgard and Gabriel Mann are both terrific as the good Fathers. Skarsgard broods quietly as the pre-Exorcist Father Merrin, but there is also deep complexity to his portrayal. Mann’s Father Francis is admirably earnest, but not simplistic. Clara Bellair also tacks a shrewdly understated approach to playing the survivor’s guilt-plagued Dr. Lesno. However, Billy Crawford looks completely out-of-place as Cheche and the way the character’s physical deformities are presented is also questionable.

There are No Saints, Written by Paul Schrader

The Jesuits aren’t what they used to be. These days, they are largely aligned with Liberation Theology. Neto Niente’s nickname “The Jesuit” refers to their hard-charging Seventeenth Century glory years. The gang enforcer could definitely get Medieval on his targets, but he has been cooling his heels in prison for years. When he finally gets released, there’s sure to be Hell to pay in Alfonso Pined Ulloa’s There are No Saints, written by Paul Schrader, which opens today in New York.

Ironically, Niente did not commit the murder he was convicted of, so when the cop who planted the evidence recanted on his deathbed, his lawyer, Carl Abrahams had him released, free and clear. Of course, there are plenty of angry cops who still want a piece of him. Niente would clear out, but he is worried about his son, Julio. His wife Nadia has since married gun-running gangster Vincent Rice, to help provide him a respectable cover. Even though it is not a real marriage, Rice is still abusive—and lethally jealous when Nadia and the Jesuit have an assignation for old times’ sake.

After Rice murders Nadia, abducts Julio, and tries to kill Niente, but the Jesuit is more resourceful than he anticipates. As we fully expect, Niente will chase Rice down into Mexico, leaving a trail of dead associates in his wake. However, Schrader’s grungy payback script is darker than you would expect. Arguably, this is a familiar template for him. Basically, he does for the border town milieu what Hardcore did for the underground LA porn scene and The Yakuza did for the Japanese underworld. Yet, it still works okay, in an unfussy, down-and-dirty kind of way.

Dog Eat Dog: Paul Schrader Adapts Edward Bunker

Troy Cameron would not know what to make of the Indians in the World Series. He is used to Cleveland being a city of losers. Cameron knows full well he and his criminal cohorts are three of the city’s biggest bums, but they hope a big, obviously ill-conceived caper will finally put them on easy street in Paul Schrader’s Dog Eat Dog (trailer here), which opens in Los Angeles this Friday.

You can expect things to get a little sketchy, since DED is based on a novel by real life ex-con Edward Bunker (Mr. Blue in Reservoir Dogs). If you doubt his street cred, keep in mind Danny Trejo was his son’s godfather. Cameron and his regular accomplices, Mad Dog and Diesel, each already have two strikes, so they are also pretty serious customers. Cameron is the last of the three to serve out his second term, but they have patiently awaited his arrival, because Cameron is the one who arranges their jobs through a shadowy underworld figure known as Grecco the Greek. Most of those gigs involve knocking over rogue criminal elements for scores in the ten-grand neighborhood. However, this one will be different.

A deadbeat gangster has fallen behind on his payments to a bigger gangster, so Cameron and company are supposed to bring back some leverage. That means kidnapping the debtor thug’s infant son. Everyone adamant agrees the baby is not to be hurt (and he isn’t), but this kind of crime involves a whole new level of risk. Of course, things go spectacularly wrong, but rest assured not with respect to the rug rat.

It is important to emphasize that point, because the film starts with Mad Dog in the throes of a drug-fueled psychotic episode that will end in bloodshed. It is sequence that would easily fit into Natural Born Killers, so it might be too much for sensitive viewers to get past. (For what its worth, that is the toughest stuff in the film.)

In fact, Nicolas Cage, Willem Dafoe, and Christopher Matthew Cook develop some pretty terrific lowlife buddy chemistry. It is nice to know Cage is still on the comeback trail following a nice supporting turn in Snowden and better-than-you-heard work in the underrated The Trust and Pay the Ghost (I still stand by my positive review of that one). Dafoe gleefully chews on the scenery, enjoying his ironic status as the unrestrained loon in a Nic Cage movie. However, the real discovery is Cook, who brings real gravitas and subtlety to the hulking Diesel. He also has a show-reel-worthy scene with Louisa Krause playing a young but unusually assertive prostitute. Even Schrader gets in on the fun, playing the Greek with the attitude and authority he probably wishes he could have commanded during the making of The Canyons.

DED is definitely a low-budget affair, but it is the sort of dark, tight caper film that is bound to attract an audience over time. It is probably too idiosyncratic for a nationwide opening, but it is guaranteed to make money over time. Arguably, this is exactly the sort of film Schrader and Cage should be concentrating on, rather than moody three-hour-plus character study-slash-terrorism thrillers that just beg to be cut down by the money men. Quite entertaining but not for the faint of heart, Dog Eat Dog is highly recommended for fans of amoral noir mayhem, when it opens this Friday (11/4) in Los Angeles, at the Laemmle Music Hall.

Dying of the Light: Nic Cage Will Not Go Gentle into that Good Night

Evan Lake is the CIA’s top motivational speaker. He also happens to be played by Nicolas Cage, so hold on tight, this will be a bumpy ride. While a station chief, Lake was captured and tortured by a notorious terrorist, but he lived to tell the tale, with honor. Fatefully, just as the physical and mental symptoms of a rare neurological disease start plaguing Lake, he gets a line on his old tormentor, Muhammad Banir. He might as well get his revenge or die trying in Paul Schrader’s Dying of the Light (trailer here)—although Schrader himself would reportedly prefer not to be so closely identified with the final producer-cut product. Regardless, it opens this Friday in New York.

Every year Lake gives a pep talk to the new recruits undergoing basic training and he projects to the back row of the theater—the theater next door. This might be his last hurrah. The agency just got wind his second opinion came back positive (in a bad way). However, his protégé, Milton Schultz has some interesting news. The rare pharmaceutical used to treat Banir’s degenerative disease has strangely surfaced during an incident in Romania. Yes, both men are slowly dying, betrayed by their own bodies.

Since the Agency still insists Banir is dead, Lake goes rogue, burning every possible bridge behind him. Yet, despite his increasingly erratic and anti-social behavior, he can count on the help of the loyal Schultz and Michelle Zuberain, an ambiguously close former Euro colleague. Meanwhile, the dastardly CIA bureaucrats keep trying to send Lake doctors and counselors.

Evidently, Schrader and several cast members are unhappy with the current theatrical cut, but it is hard to see why. It is a reasonably serviceable thriller with a bit of style here and there. Let’s be frank—this is latest film from the director of The Canyons and the star of Left Behind. It’s just not that bad, especially compared to some of the recent gems in the Cage filmography. Frankly, it probably doesn’t even crack the bottom twenty (hello, The Wicker Man, Stolen, Seeking Justice, Trespass, Season of the Witch?)

Be that as it may, Cage sure does his thing as the tightly wound Lake. The man just doesn’t seem to have an inside voice. When he gorges on scenery, it is like watching a bull in a china shop, but at least he is nowhere near as embarrassing as Meryl Streep unconscionably overacting in Osage County. As Schultz, Anton Yelchin looks thoroughly freaked out, probably because he was. At least Irène Jacob does her best to class-up the joint as Zuberain.

Dying wrings plenty of atmosphere out of its Romanian locales and surprisingly, it is almost sympathetic in its treatment of the CIA (perhaps that is why some principals are unhappy). Say what you will, but they are dashed indulgent of Lake. In its current state, the film also portrays the Islamist terrorists as unambiguously vicious extremists. It is far from perfect and nobody would describe it as high art, but Dying of the Light is compulsively watchable, building a fair degree of suspense in its weird way. Recommended for fans of Cage’s flaring nostrils, it opens this Friday (12/5) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

IFF ’09: Adam Resurrected

It was a case of bad timing. When Paul Schrader’s Adam Resurrected was released last year, it was one of a number of Holocaust related films jostling for critical and award attention. Unfortunately, Adam was largely lost in the shuffle, but it might have been the best of the field. Though not graphically violent, it contained powerfully disturbing images of human cruelty that gnawed on one’s consciousness well after the initial viewing. Now the Israel Film Festival’s upcoming screening of Adam Resurrected (trailer here) offers an opportunity to rediscover and reevaluate the film, as part of its tribute to Schrader, who will be awarded the 2009 IFF Achievement in Cinema Award on opening night.

Adam Stein is a troubled soul who has problems with authority. He is made of similar stuff as Yossarian from Catch-22 and McMurphy from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. He is also a Holocaust survivor, whose survival came at a tremendous emotional cost. Haunted by his experiences, Stein is a reluctant patient in the Seizling Institute, a fictional mental sanitarium in Israel specializing in the treatment of Holocaust survivors.

Before the war, Stein was an entertainer, whose act blended elements of Victor Borge with Cirque de Soleil—perfect for Weimar Germany, but not so well received under National Socialism. Though not particularly religious, it was only a matter of time before he was deported to a concentration camp. Upon his arrival, he is recognized by a former audience member, the camp commandant, who spares Stein’s life for his own twisted enjoyment, forcing him to live as his pet dog.

In a narrow sense, Resurrected is a completely bloodless film that shows none of the actual killing in the camps. However, Stein’s dehumanizing scenes with the twisted Commandant Klein are profoundly troubling, depicting man’s inhumanity to his fellow man with visceral immediacy. As wild and ruckus as Stein might act years later, his problematic behavior bears no comparison with what was done to him. Though clearly provocative, there is no doubt about the film’s moral center (unlike the often baffling The Reader).

Schrader’s direction is visually unsettling, often framing scenes from odd angles, but also sensitive enough to capture the tortured humanity of his characters. As Stein, Jeff Goldblum gives a very strong performance, dialing down his trademark manic delivery just enough to connect with the pathos of his character. Willem Dafoe is appropriately cold and severe as the evil Klein, while the venerable Derek Jacobi is a welcomed presence, exuding learned compassion as Dr. Nathan Gross, the director of Seizling (but he is not given much heavy lifting to do as an actor). Some of the richest work in Resurrected actually comes from supporting players, like Joachim Krol and Idan Alterman, who play fellow patients in Seizling that suffered similar losses but lack the consolation of Stein’s flamboyant rebellion.

It seems Schrader de-emphasized the black comedy of the film’s original source novel by Yoram Kaniuk. This was probably a wise decision. While Resurrected is often uncomfortable to watch, it is always for the right reasons. It is a challenging, stylistically distinct film that deserved a better theatrical reception than what it received almost exactly one year ago. It screens Sunday (12/6) and next Saturday (12/12) at the SVA Theater.