Yuna@yuna_y

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The Exorcist 1973

The scariest thing in The Exorcist isn't Pazuzu. It's the first act, where Regan gets put through one invasive medical procedure after another, and those doctors end up scarier than any demon. That's what I keep coming back to, not the head spin, not the stair walk. William Friedkin made this in 1973 with zero CGI and no jump scare every 30 seconds. Just dread that never lets up, and a 12-year-old girl whose possession makes grown adults cry in their seats. The stories from that original run are wild. Vomit bags handed out, ambulances parked outside, people fainting in the lobby. A movie that did that to audiences still walked away with 10 Oscar nominations, Best Picture among them. The premise is almost funny when you say it out loud. Two ordained Catholic priests, decades of theology between them, holy water, the literal word of God, all of it aimed at one pale, aggressive 12-year-old. And the demon nearly wins. That a matchup that close is even possible says something rough about the Church. A mother spends the whole runtime trying to figure out whether her daughter needs a neurologist, a psychiatrist, or an actual exorcism, while something in the house tears the place apart and tanks the resale value. It's 2026 and nobody has topped this yet. Modern horror plays soft by comparison. What Friedkin built holds up as a study in grief, faith, and psychological terror, and it's staying rent-free in pop culture forever. 4.5/5 #WilliamFriedkin

3w

Yuna@yuna_y

Segui

The Exorcist 1973

The scariest thing in The Exorcist isn't Pazuzu. It's the first act, where Regan gets put through one invasive medical procedure after another, and those doctors end up scarier than any demon. That's what I keep coming back to, not the head spin, not the stair walk. William Friedkin made this in 1973 with zero CGI and no jump scare every 30 seconds. Just dread that never lets up, and a 12-year-old girl whose possession makes grown adults cry in their seats. The stories from that original run are wild. Vomit bags handed out, ambulances parked outside, people fainting in the lobby. A movie that did that to audiences still walked away with 10 Oscar nominations, Best Picture among them. The premise is almost funny when you say it out loud. Two ordained Catholic priests, decades of theology between them, holy water, the literal word of God, all of it aimed at one pale, aggressive 12-year-old. And the demon nearly wins. That a matchup that close is even possible says something rough about the Church. A mother spends the whole runtime trying to figure out whether her daughter needs a neurologist, a psychiatrist, or an actual exorcism, while something in the house tears the place apart and tanks the resale value. It's 2026 and nobody has topped this yet. Modern horror plays soft by comparison. What Friedkin built holds up as a study in grief, faith, and psychological terror, and it's staying rent-free in pop culture forever. 4.5/5 #WilliamFriedkin

3w