For decades, it has been the stuff of Hollywood legend: the catastrophic sequel so reviled it was pulled from cinemas and seemingly erased from history. Now, a startling new documentary, Devil, drags John Boorman's infamous The Exorcist II: The Heretic back into the light, exposing the full, turbulent story of its creation and spectacular failure.
The film, directed by Andrew Abbott and produced by the BFI, acts as a cinematic exhumation. It is built upon a treasure trove of never-before-seen archival footage, including raw dailies and behind-the-scenes material that had been locked away for over 45 years. This is paired with candid new interviews, including one with the now 91-year-old Boorman himself, offering a reflective and surprisingly poignant perspective on a project that nearly derailed his career.
A Production Plagued from the Start
The documentary meticulously charts the perfect storm of misfortunes that doomed The Heretic from its inception. Forced into production by Warner Bros. to capitalise on the phenomenon of the original film, Boorman was saddled with a script he disliked and a premise he found fundamentally flawed.
Devil reveals the immense pressure placed on a young Linda Blair, reprising her role as Regan MacNeil, and the bizarre on-set decisions that included hiring a real-life witch as a consultant. The footage shows a production descending into chaos, a far cry from the chilling precision of William Friedkin's original masterpiece.
From Box Office Bomb to Cult Curiosity
Upon its release in 1977, the critical and commercial reaction was swift and brutal. The documentary doesn't shy away from the panicked reviews and audience walkouts that led to the film being yanked from theatres after just one week. It was a humiliating defeat for all involved.
Yet, Devil argues that time has been kind to The Heretic, reframing it not as a mere failure, but as a fascinating, ambitious, and deeply weird artefact of its time. The film has since developed a fervent cult following who appreciate its sheer audacity and unique visual style, a testament to Boorman's unwavering artistic vision even in the face of disaster.
This documentary is more than a autopsy of a bad movie; it is a compelling study of directorial ambition clashing with studio demands, and a haunting reminder of how quickly fortune changes in the cutthroat world of filmmaking.
