The Art of Cinematic Failure: Why 'Boorman and the Devil' is a Must-Watch for Film Enthusiasts
There’s something oddly captivating about watching a master filmmaker dissect their biggest failure. Boorman and the Devil, David Kittredge’s documentary about the making of Exorcist II: The Heretic, isn’t just a post-mortem of a flop—it’s a profound exploration of artistic ambition, missteps, and the human cost of creative hubris. Personally, I think this documentary transcends its subject matter to become a meditation on what it means to fail spectacularly in an industry that often demands perfection.
The Wrong Man for the Job
One thing that immediately stands out is John Boorman’s candid admission that he was the wrong person to helm a sequel to The Exorcist. What many people don’t realize is that Boorman didn’t even like the original film. Instead of leaning into its dark, demonic core, he tried to subvert it, crafting a story about the power of good. From my perspective, this was a bold but fatally misguided choice. Audiences in 1977 weren’t looking for a philosophical counterpoint—they wanted more of the same chilling horror. Boorman’s disconnect from the audience’s expectations is a fascinating study in how even the most talented creators can lose sight of what makes a project resonate.
A Dreamlike Disaster
What makes this particularly fascinating is Boorman’s insistence on turning Exorcist II into a dreamlike, almost surreal experience. Tap-dancing scenes? A sleep-inducing ‘synchronizer’? These choices weren’t just odd—they were actively detrimental. If you take a step back and think about it, Boorman’s vision was less a sequel and more a personal art project shoehorned into a franchise. This raises a deeper question: Can a film be both a failure and a work of genuine passion? In Boorman’s case, the answer is a resounding yes. His willingness to take risks, even if they backfired, is a reminder that creativity often thrives on the edge of disaster.
The Human Cost of Failure
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Boorman’s failure with Exorcist II sent him into a tailspin. He panicked, re-edited the film for international audiences, and later admitted it was a mistake. This vulnerability is rare in an industry where directors often deflect blame onto studios or markets. What this really suggests is that failure isn’t just a professional setback—it’s an emotional one. Boorman’s honesty about his own role in the film’s collapse is both humbling and refreshing. It’s a stark contrast to the ego-driven narratives we often see in Hollywood.
The Silver Linings
Despite its flaws, Exorcist II isn’t without its merits. Mike Flanagan, who’s currently directing his own Exorcist film, praises the cinematography and Ennio Morricone’s score. This raises an intriguing point: Can a film be appreciated for its individual elements even if it fails as a whole? In my opinion, absolutely. What this documentary does so well is highlight the duality of Exorcist II—it’s a mess, but it’s a fascinating one. I’d rather see an ambitious failure like this than a safe, soulless blockbuster any day.
Why This Documentary Matters
Boorman and the Devil isn’t just for fans of The Exorcist—it’s for anyone who’s ever grappled with failure. What makes it particularly compelling is Boorman’s willingness to own his mistakes while still defending his vision. This isn’t a story about what went wrong; it’s a story about the resilience of creativity. If you take a step back and think about it, failure is often the most honest teacher in art. Boorman’s journey with Exorcist II is a testament to that.
Final Thoughts
As someone who’s always been drawn to the underdog stories of cinema, Boorman and the Devil feels like a gift. It’s a reminder that even the most celebrated filmmakers can stumble—and that those stumbles can be just as illuminating as their triumphs. Personally, I think this documentary is essential viewing, not just for its insights into Exorcist II, but for its broader commentary on the nature of failure and redemption in art. After all, what’s more human than trying, failing, and learning to live with it?
