I read somewhere that audiences make their minds up about whether or not they like a film within the first 15 minutes. Now, I'm still dubious about that theory, but one thing I've noticed again and again is that if a film has serious problems, they will more often than not reveal themselves quickly (and hilariously a lot of the time). Sometimes it's something blatantly obvious like the actors are terrible or the sets/CGI looks cheap. Other times it can be a problem with the story or screenplay. Either the logic is flawed and nothing makes sense or the writing is just simply atrocious. And on the rare occasion, you get the impression that something is wrong before even seeing a single frame of the film.
In Deliver Us from Evil, the latest horror film from director Scott Derrickson (Sinister, The Exorcism of Emily Rose), before anything gets started the film's creators want the audience to know that the film is based on the real-life accounts of New York police officer Ralph Sarchie. Like that means anything! Look, plenty of movies are based on true stories and are great. Hell, some of the best films of all time are based on true stores. But an exorcism movie "based on the accounts of New York police officer Ralph Sarchie"? That means nothing! That's like a horror movie about Bigfoot saying at the beginning that it's based on the accounts of this guy who was totally attacked and kidnapped by Bigfoot this one time. It means nothing. The only reason it's there is to try and provide some gravitas to the events on screen and hopefully elicit a reaction of, "Well, I would say this is pretty laughable, but if it actually happened... Man!" Audiences don't care if a movie is based on a true story. They just want to watch a good movie (and in this case, one that's scary and suspenseful). It's not only lazy storytelling, it's insulting to viewers. It's also the film's biggest problem.
Deliver Us from Evil constantly tries (and fails miserably) to add weight and meaning to the inevitable silliness of the exorcism subgenre. Nearly every scene seems shrouded in darkness. Ralph Sarchie and his partner Butler (Eric Bana and Joel McHale) constantly find themselves slowly tiptoeing through unlit, spooky New York City apartments and brownstones with only their flashlights (which constantly seem to be going out) to guide them until some kind of animal pops out to bark or hiss at them. The city is also constantly being assaulted with torrential downpours leaving our protagonists to sit moodily in their cars contemplating life and the urban decay around them. However, unlike the moral squalor of a film like David Fincher's Se7en, here it just feels like an attempt to add gravity to a film full of cliches.
It's a film that somehow manages to be a generic exorcism movie AND a generic cop movie at the same time. The majority of the movie is populated with scenes of either Sarchie and Butler investigating various supernatural disturbances or examining evidence to track down a mysterious veteran turned painter (Sean Harris) who seems to be involved in the deaths of his military friends and their loved ones. When this isn't happening, Sarchie can mostly be found hearing things others can't and talking to Father Mendoza (Edgar Ramirez), a Spanish Jesuit priest and ward of one of the mysterious painter's supposed victims, about his past sins and all the weird stuff that's been going on. Sarchie also has a wife and daughter (Oliva Munn and Lulu Wilson), but they're mainly there to be terrorized by unseen and unexplained forces and to be the reservoir into which Sarchie pours all of his fetid memories of being on the force even though he "doesn't want to bring that stuff home." And all of this might have been tolerable if the exorcism/horror part of the film was actually any good. Unfortunately, what it boils down to is a few jump scares in darkened buildings or on darkened streets. Jump scares, mind you, where the thing that does the scaring isn't even frightening. Rarely is it a ghoul or a possessed human. More often than not it's a cat (Sarchie hates cats) or a dog or a dangling pipe that kind of looks like a snake. When it is something otherworldly, we never see it. Now, I don't have a problem with not seeing what is torturing Sarchie's family, but Derrickson just cuts away! Sarchie's daughter hears scratching in the walls, her stuffed owl Ha Ha Hoo's and rolls around, doors slam and then Olivia Munn rescues her and that's it. They don't even talk about it with Sarchie, A POLICE OFFICER THAT HAPPENS TO LIVE IN THE SAME HOUSE AS THEM.
Then there's the final exorcism scene where things are finally going to come to a head. Sarchie and Mendoza find and arrest the mysterious painter and find themselves face to face with the demon in a locked interrogation room. As Mendoza prepares, he tells Sarchie the five steps to exorcising a demon and warns him to only read the responses to the bible verses Mendonza reads. As we're told, Sarchie has a type of ESP and may be vulnerable to the demon's tricks. And then they begin... the most generic and somehow boring exorcism in history. It's clear from the opening scene that the film wanted to be just like William Friedkin's 1973 classic The Exorcist. But where that film was able to find a sense of dread deep within the hearts of its audience, where it was able to create an exorcism that felt both terrifying and heartbreaking, Deliver Us from Evil fizzles out. For one, the exorcism goes off nearly without a hitch. Sarchie is only ever bothered once when the demon blasts loud noises directly into his brain. Most of the time, he's actually really helpful. It's even his ESP that allows the duo to find out that the demon's name is "The Jungler" (continuing the hilarious trope of demons with ridiculous names) which helps Mendoza cast it out. And while you would expect the priest to actually be the one who is nearly deceived by the demon, where Father Karras is both tortured and finally possessed himself by the demon in The Exorcist, all it takes for Father Mendoza to snap out of it is a quick pep talk from good ol' Sargent Sarchie. Finally, after 5 or so minutes, they cast the demon out. He blows a few windows out and yells really loud, but he leaves. His host, the weary solider/painter, looks confused and in shock but remembers and tells Sarchie where the demon locked his wife and daughter and there's a triumphant slow motion reunion. The end.
Actually, not quite. We're informed through an ending paragraph that Ralph Sarchie retired shortly after these events and now works with Father Mendoza as a demonologist, which got me thinking - How good would this have been as a documentary?! Now, I'm not trying to take away from the actors themselves - they are easily the best and strongest aspect of the film and make poorly written dialogue and silly situations work as best they can. (Eric Bana and Edgar Ramirez are both fantastic and Joel McHale is a particularly surprising standout. The way he is able to combine his patented snarky humor with the seriousness and physicality that is also called for is terrific.) But this story would have worked so well as a documentary. Learning about the real Ralph Sarchie and hearing his direct accounts of his exploits would have been incredibly interesting. Plus, then being able to follow him in the present as he works with Father Mendoza and being able to decide for oneself if the things he says and does seem plausible or if he seems like a complete nutjob could have been fascinating. As it stands, however, Deliver Us from Evil is a derivative and tedious movie that constantly finds itself stuck in the conventions of two subgenres. It's a movie that's absurd while trying to be consequential.
And for those of you who might think I'm being too hard on it, let me end with the only truly unique thing about the film: THE DOORS. The music of the Jim Morrison and The Doors plays a major role in this film. Why? I have no idea. Father Mendoza briefly mentions that one way for a demon to enter the physical plane and possess someone is through a door - one of these is how The Jungler finds his way inside Santino while the group of soldiers investigate a cave in Iraq. But that's it! Why does the demon play hit songs from Jim Morrison's band? Does he just have a weird sense of humor? Maybe he just assumes everyone hates the keyboard. I don't know, but there are at least 3 or 4 songs from The Doors catalog that play in various ways throughout the movie. Whether Sarchie is hearing "People Are Strange" in his head or possessed Jane Crenna is babbling "Break On Through (To the Other Side)" after dropping her baby into a lion enclosure, The Doors are everywhere. It's not clever or subtle (in case you don't get the connection, closeups of the words "door" and "The Doors" in Sarchie's notes are cut together dramatically) and no one really comments on it apart from a few jokes early on. It also certainly doesn't serve the plot whatsoever. Why it has to be The Doors and couldn't be some Latin phrases or blood-curdling screeches or any other music ever is beyond me. It's literally one of the most baffling elements in a film I have ever seen.
I hesitate to say I hated Deliver Us from Evil simply because the inherent ridiculousness of the majority of it was enjoyable on some level. But the prophet himself, Jim Morrison, once said, "Hatred is a very underestimated emotion." And who am I to argue?
2 out of 10
