The Exorcist III
A lot swirls through The Exorcist III—serial killers, possession, theology—yet it holds together through sheer conviction. William Peter Blatty trades Friedkin’s shock for something more insidious: dread that seeps into every corner of the frame. It’s less a rollercoaster than a slow descent, a meditation on faith, guilt, and the evil men do—both human and otherwise.
George C. Scott anchors the film with weary gravitas, his grief and scepticism giving weight to the madness around him. Opposite him, Jason Miller—or perhaps something in his skin—delivers a performance that’s unnerving in the quietest ways. The editing and sound design disorientate beautifully, each cut and whisper feeding that creeping unease.
Imperfect, yes—but perfectly chilling. The final act wobbles under what feels like studio meddling, yet by then the spell’s been cast. A worthy successor that proves the devil’s still in the details.
George C. Scott anchors the film with weary gravitas, his grief and scepticism giving weight to the madness around him. Opposite him, Jason Miller—or perhaps something in his skin—delivers a performance that’s unnerving in the quietest ways. The editing and sound design disorientate beautifully, each cut and whisper feeding that creeping unease.
Imperfect, yes—but perfectly chilling. The final act wobbles under what feels like studio meddling, yet by then the spell’s been cast. A worthy successor that proves the devil’s still in the details.
Mini Review: A lot swirls through The Exorcist III—serial killers, possession, theology—yet it holds together through sheer conviction. George C. Scott gives weary gravitas, Jason Miller unnerves in silence, and Blatty trades jump scares for creeping dread. The finale wobbles from studio meddling, but the film still chills to the bone. The devil, it turns out, really is in the details.
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