“There were riots in theatres”: how Exorcist II became horror’s most notorious sequel
Exorcist II: The Heretic is remembered as one of Hollywood's most infamous flops. Ahead of the release of Boorman and the Devil, documentary director David Kittredge explains why its troubled production and bold ambitions deserve a fresh look.

Released in June 1977, Exorcist II: The Heretic was one of the most anticipated films of its year. The follow-up to William Friedkin’s The Exorcist, his 1973 mega-hit about the demonic possession of a 12-year-old girl, based on the novel by William Peter Blatty, it was expected to be the biggest movie of the summer. Until audiences saw it, that is. Directed by British filmmaker John Boorman – whose Oscar-nominated 1972 thriller Deliverance had landed him in Hollywood’s upper echelons – Exorcist II: The Heretic took on a more metaphysical tone, lacking the scares of the original.
Critics hated it and so did the public. At a theatre on Hollywood Boulevard, the opening-night crowd openly jeered. “They had a packed house … and then furious audience members [were] throwing things, throwing their popcorn, throwing their Coca Colas … demanding their money back,” remarks David Kittredge, the American-born filmmaker whose exhilarating new documentary Boorman and the Devil examines the making of – and fallout from – Exorcist II.
Even Blatty, who like Friedkin, had nothing to do with the sequel, later admitted he couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the film. While original star Ellen Burstyn also declined to return, the story focused on her character’s daughter Regan (Linda Blair). Living in New York, barely able to remember the events of her possession, she’s approached by Father Lamont (Richard Burton) – instructed by the Catholic Church to investigate the death of fellow priest Father Merrin (Max von Sydow, who reappears in a cameo), who performed Regan’s exorcism in Georgetown, Washington DC.

“The effectiveness of The Exorcist came from Friedkin’s extremely naturalistic approach,” argues Kittredge. “He has an incredible sense of place, and you feel like you’re actually there. The shots are not showy. A lot of them are very locked down, and so when the supernatural elements start to happen, it feels very dangerous and very real and very close. [Exorcist II] is the opposite of naturalistic, and so if you have this movie that is dreamy and trippy and visually this psychedelic ride, you’re not going to necessarily be as afraid of a demon jumping out because everything else has this allure of unreality.”
The negative feeling around the film soon spread. “By Sunday, the box office was falling off a cliff because the word of mouth was so toxic,” says Kittredge. “There were riots in theatres. Literally, can you imagine a movie releasing today that there were riots? Especially a sequel to the third highest-grossing movie ever?” The backlash was so strong, a more horror-centric cut was hastily edited by Boorman, including an ending change that saw Burton’s character survive. The whole experience, understandably, left the director traumatised. “I mean, he really just threw it in a drawer and shut it.”
Making Boorman and the Devil was never about crafting a documentary about a bad movie, he adds. “For any piece of art, there are two ways to look at it. One is, is it good? Does it work the way it’s supposed to? If it’s a horror movie, does that scare you? I don’t feel Exorcist II: The Heretic meets that definition. That said, another way to look at art is: is it interesting? Does it try things that are different? Does it challenge your expectations? Does it tell a story in a different way or a new way? Is it something that you haven’t seen before? And in that regard, I believe Exorcist II: The Heretic is one of the most interesting films of that period, maybe ever.”
Ahead of the myriad technicians, actors and critics that he spoke to, Kittredge’s first interview on the documentary was Boorman. They spoke across one day, at his home in County Wicklow, Ireland, back in February 2018 when he was 85 (he’s now 93). “I wasn’t out to mock the film, I wasn’t out to mock him,” says Kittredge. “I wanted to look at it from a completely sincere standpoint. What were you trying to do? How did you do these technical things? Because technically the film is just insane. The stuff they did with in camera effects was astonishing.”

In particular, Boorman was an early adopter of the then-new Steadicam camera rig, creating soaring movements to replicate the point-of-view of the demon Pazuzu. The director also used so-called ‘ghost glass’ techniques, using semi-reflective, angled glass panes on set that helped achieve in-camera visual illusions. And with a plague of locusts featured heavily in the plot, wildlife photographers Sean Morris and David Thompson used high-speed macro cameras to capture the movements of these insects up close.
Yet amid these innovations, everything that could go wrong did, from the original editor quitting to multiple on-set rewrites. Most disturbingly, the production shut down for five weeks after Boorman contracted a respiratory fungal infection known as Valley Fever during shooting a sequence in California, meant to double as a locust-infested Ethiopia. “When you stir up the dirt and you breathe it in, it can really do a number on you,” says Kittredge. “It can kill you. And he almost died.”

After its disastrous release, Exorcist II was also partially responsible for a major industry sea-change in America, outlawing a process called ‘blind bidding’. At the time, explains Kittredge, “theatres had to put up money, sometimes a year in advance, most of the time before the film was even shot or certainly done, to have the opportunity to show the movie in the future.” When the film flopped so heavily, exhibitors “felt absolutely betrayed” and fought to end this system. By 1980, over 30 states outlawed the concept. “Exorcist II: The Heretic was one the big reasons why theatre owners pushed through that legislation.”
Despite its tainted legacy, Kittredge remains a staunch defender of the movie. “You can put it down. You can say it’s dumb or silly or it doesn’t work. But when you think about movies that try different things and show you different things… I think about stuff from that movie.” He cites others, like Richard Kelly’s dystopian black comedy Southland Tales (2006) and Steven Spielberg’s WWII comedy 1941 (1979), films regarded as flops that nevertheless “take big swings”, he says. “Maybe [they] don’t connect all the time. But that’s what I love about art, and that’s what I love about cinema.”
Boorman and the Devil is in UK cinemas 25 September.