The Exorcism of Emily Rose
by John Miller
A movie with a title like The Exorcism of Emily Rose begs to be classified as a horror film. But while writer-director Scott Derrickson has no qualms resorting to the tricks of the genre—lights suddenly extinguishing, doors mysteriously slamming shut—his decision to tell the story as a courtroom drama creates a surprisingly thoughtful picture.
Laura Linney stars as Erin Bruner, a junior partner working her way up the legal ladder as a criminal defense lawyer on high-profile cases. With her own advancement in mind, the skeptical Bruner agrees to take on the case of Father Richard Moore (Tom Wilkinson), a Catholic priest. Moore stands accused of negligent homicide for convincing a college student to undergo an exorcism rather than take her epilepsy medication. As she works toward persuading the jury that the girl’s subsequent death should be attributed to demonic possession instead of the priest’s misguidance, she begins to find herself persuaded as well.
Emily Rose expertly dodges the issue of suspended disbelief, requiring only that moviegoers have faith in the honesty of the witnesses at the trial, rather than the existence of possession itself. The film’s agnosticism is its strongest point: Emily Rose provokes genuine horror without dumbing itself down for the audience.
An Unfinished Life
by Brian McGinn
Montana is a beautiful state. Robert Redford is a beautiful man. Where Montana has its rolling landscapes and wild animaux, Redford has his flowing strawberry blond locks and his rugged style. These two entities collide in An Unfinished Life, and it is not the first time the two have met. Redford's The Horse Whisperer (his three-hour ode to, in no particular order: Montana, Romance, Horses, and Romanticized Montana), also featured the lovely state of Montana and the lovely human being Robert Redford.
Both films are peaceful and filled with details of the slow life: days spent working on the broken farm truck, horseback rides across great open plains, and strangely enough, scenes in which Redford teaches a young girl how to drive. Most importantly, both films feature a sharply world-weary Redford; this is why both find some level of success.
In An Unfinished Life his character is a bitter old man, stuck in an endless cycle of sorrow. He finds his only pleasures in the land, in his interaction with nature and with a crippled Morgan Freeman. As the film progresses, Redford meets and accepts his granddaughter and daughter-in-law (Jennifer Lopez), and learns to accept his imperfect family.
The key to Redford’s western films is to understand that the Old West is not a time, but a state of mind. Taking An Unfinished Life as anything but a story of family redemption set in Redford’s Western world would be to misunderstand it. It is simply a lovely, quiet portrait of twin disap¡pearing American landmarks—one an aging movie star, slowed by the hands of time, and one the great frontier, slowed only by the destruction that stems from human disregard.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.