The Art of Failure: Why 'Boorman and the Devil' is a Must-Watch for Film Enthusiasts
There’s something profoundly human about watching a master grapple with their greatest misstep. Boorman and the Devil, David Kittredge’s documentary about the making (and unmaking) of Exorcist II: The Heretic, isn’t just a post-mortem of a cinematic flop—it’s a meditation on ambition, ego, and the unpredictable alchemy of art. Personally, I think this is where the documentary transcends its subject matter. It’s not about Exorcist II; it’s about what happens when a visionary like John Boorman collides with a project he’s fundamentally mismatched for.
The Wrong Man for the Job
One thing that immediately stands out is Boorman’s candid admission that he was the wrong person to helm a sequel to The Exorcist. What makes this particularly fascinating is his disdain for the original film. He didn’t just ignore its essence—he actively tried to subvert it, crafting a story about the power of good instead of evil. From my perspective, this is where the tragedy begins. Boorman wasn’t making a sequel; he was making a rebuttal. And in doing so, he alienated the very audience that craved the darkness of the original.
What many people don’t realize is how rare it is for a director to have such creative freedom and still fail so spectacularly. Boorman had the biggest budget of his career, final cut privileges, and a supportive studio. Yet, the film tanked. If you take a step back and think about it, this raises a deeper question: Can too much freedom be a curse? Boorman’s hubris—his belief that he could redefine the franchise on his terms—is both admirable and fatally flawed.
A Dreamlike Disaster
The choices Boorman and his collaborator, Rospo Pallenberg, made are a masterclass in how not to make a sequel. Tap-dancing scenes with Linda Blair? A “synchronizer” device that bored audiences to tears? These weren’t just bad ideas; they were tone-deaf to the genre. What this really suggests is that Boorman was operating in a vacuum, disconnected from the audience’s expectations.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Boorman’s reflection on Richard Burton’s performance. Burton, a legendary actor, was reportedly cooperative but disengaged, treating the role as just another paycheck. This highlights a broader issue in filmmaking: even the most talented performers can’t save a project if the vision behind it is flawed.
The Silver Lining of Failure
What’s striking about Boorman and the Devil is its refusal to treat Exorcist II as a punchline. Instead, it humanizes the failure. Boorman’s humility—his willingness to take full responsibility—is refreshing in an industry where blame is often shifted to studios or markets. In my opinion, this is where the documentary shines. It’s not about assigning fault; it’s about understanding the complexities of creativity.
Mike Flanagan’s appreciation for the film’s cinematography and score is a reminder that even failures can have redeeming qualities. Personally, I’d rather see a bold misstep like Exorcist II than a forgettable, by-the-numbers film. At least it tried something different, even if it crashed and burned.
Why This Matters
Boorman and the Devil isn’t just for film buffs—it’s for anyone who’s ever pursued a passion and fallen short. It’s a reminder that failure isn’t the opposite of success; it’s a part of the journey. What makes this documentary so compelling is its exploration of how one failure can shape a career, a legacy, and even an art form.
If you take a step back and think about it, Exorcist II is a cautionary tale about the dangers of ignoring your audience. But it’s also a testament to the resilience of artists like Boorman, who emerged from the wreckage to create some of cinema’s most enduring works.
Final Thoughts
As someone who’s always been drawn to the stories behind the stories, Boorman and the Devil feels like a gift. It’s not just a documentary; it’s a conversation about what it means to create, to fail, and to keep going. In a world where success is often measured by box office numbers, this film is a reminder that sometimes, the most interesting stories are the ones that don’t work out.
So, is Exorcist II: The Heretic a good film? Absolutely not. But is it worth studying? Without a doubt. And that, in my opinion, is what makes Boorman and the Devil essential viewing. It’s not about redemption; it’s about understanding. And sometimes, that’s more valuable than perfection.
