THE RITE
By Clarence L. Donowitz
Much like every film about the mafia will be judged by "The Godfather", every film about exorcism will have to contend with "The Exorcist" as the gold standard. And with good reason. For sheer horror and creativity, William Friedkin's film remains peerless after almost 40 years.
If "The Rite" fails to conjure up the same terror as did "The Exorcist" (and how could it with a PG-13 rating), it stands apart from other weak entries in the genre in that it is mainly about something other than exorcism. All the thrashing about and cursing in Latin are the means by which some deep questions surrounding faith are raised.
The film takes a step in the right direction in choosing its protagonist. "The Rite"'s priest is not the been-there-exorcised-that veteran. Nor is he is the neophyte servant of God who questions his faith when confronted with human ugliness. Michael Kovak (Colin O'Donoghue) never had any faith to begin with. He joins the seminary for the same reason some people gravitate toward the army: to get a free education. After being ordained, he plans on resigning from the priesthood. It is only when the Father Superior threatens to convert his scholarship into a $100,000 loan that he decides to give the priesthood another shot by attending a class on exorcism in Rome.
In Italy, the powers-that-be put Kovak in contact with Father Lucas (Anthony Hopkins), who is an old hand at fighting demons. Father Lucas is the staple of the exorcism movie, the seasoned veteran whose faith has vacillated in the past, but is now firmly in place. He fights demons like an old general who has accepted that there is evil in the world and that he is the one called upon to fight it. This is the least interesting part
of the movie, simply because we have seen it before.
Where "The Rite" treads new ground is the way in which Kovak's lack of faith adds a third dimension to the God-Satan battle. Without him, the film would be a battle of good versus evil and a drama played out on a Mannichean playing field can only sustain the interests of the didactic or the very religious. But the film smartly understands that most people in the audience are neither hardcore atheists nor fundamentalists, but somewhere in between.
As a non-practicing atheist I was fascinated by Kovak, who holds steady in his lack of faith even when faced with evidence which defies rational explanation. I was reminded of a Believer friend of mine, who maintained that being an atheist requires
more faith than believing in God. Kovak is unapologetic about his doubts and articulates them clearly. He never asks the simple question "If there is a God, why is there so much
suffering in the world?", which has always struck me as a juvenile point of view. After all, doesn't free will give humans a license to do evil? Kovak's disbelief is based more on
a lack of evidence than a moral objection to the less than perfect state of the world.
It is unfortunate, that O'Donoghue does not bring more to the role. He plays the part with such an understated, muted tone, that it seems as if he is not acting at all and
that's not a compliment. He hits the same notes over and over again, and though it's a good one, it soon wears out its welcome.
The supporting cast fares better: Ciaran Hinds gives an appropriate turn as Father Xavier, the priest who sends Kovak to Father Lucas as a way to reaffirm his faith and Alice Braga is effective as Angelina, the journalist investigating claims of exorcism. A fringe benefit of having a priest as a protagonist is that it avoids any embarrassing love subplot. Kovak and Angelina's relationship is not particularly well drawn, but it never
goes below the belt and that's a good thing.
In a crucial scene, Anthony Hopkins reminds us of how good he can be when not relegated to roles that require him to merely look pensive. He harnesses some of the old energy he channeled in "The Silence of the Lambs" and it is liberating to see him switch facial expression in mid-grimace.
Unfortunately, the film suffers from structural problems which threaten to bury it at the one-hour mark. At this point, the main conflict has been established, but there are no further developments and the cinematography steeps us in mood and atmosphere in an effort to detract us from lackluster plot development. There's a lot of creaking and shuffling up and down sinisterly-lit staircases, but nothing that can be called a revelation.
Thankfully, the film finds its gear once it reaches its climax. Kovak is forced to confront his lack of faith in order to exorcise a demon. There is a moment when he realizes he cannot do this on his own and calls upon God to help him. One wonders if
this is a genuine transformation, or just a pragmatic attempt to use any and all tools available. If believing in a God gets you out of a pinch, why not use Him?
I would have preferred a cynical ending where Kovak gravitates back to being an non-Believer, but I understand that this may be outside the boundaries of propriety.
Still, having faith in an unseen Higher Power is one thing. I've always found it much harder to have faith in the human beings right in front of my eyes.