Read me my last rites

Any film about exorcism will always be compared to William Friedkin’s unintentionally hilarious 1973 classic The Exorcist but Mikael Håfström’s attempt to circumnavigate any comparisons with the latter in his latest horror The Rite inevitably fails. Although we’re informed that the story is ‘inspired by true events’, the film unfortunately resorts to your typical body convulsing, manic preaching we’d expect of an exorcist movie minus the profanities.

Colin O’Donoghue sleepwalks through his role as Michael Kovak, a cynical trainee priest in a crisis of faith unable to comprehend the events he witnesses as he accompanies Anthony Hopkin’s veteran exorcist during his ‘rounds’. In his attempt to balance the emotions of concern, guilt and fear O’Donoghue just about manages to carry off a permanent perplexed look like a confused toddler on his first day of playschool. Fortunately Hopkins is a delight to watch a usual, invigorating his role with hammy gusto or just enjoying a months shooting in Rome.

I found myself pining for some good ol’ fashioned crucifix in the crotch action

Interestingly the film has been embraced by the Vatican as a honest portrayal of real exorcism but in reality it’s just a water downed version of it’s more notorious forefather. All the usual clichés are present; limbs are twisted into impossible shapes, bones crack and veins literally pop out of victim’s faces. As far as scares are concerned, they are few and between and instead we are treated to a creepy atmosphere reminiscent of The Shining involving amusing halucinations of demonic donkeys, hairy hands and iridescent frogs.

As the plot progresses so does the tedium as Håfström piles on the theology or mindless religious babbling, it depends on how you view it. ‘The greatest trick the devil ever performed, was to convince the world he never existed’ is the basic plagiarised message we’re submitted to but in all honesty, I found myself pining for some good ol’ fashioned crucifix in the crotch action.