Favorite moments of cinema: The evil in its purest form

In my experience with the horror genre I have never understood why to be scared of "the unknown." It is true that aliens, things, clowns, monsters gut people, gore and other myths and/or characters could cause commotion at some point, but not remain in the conscience as an afflicting presence that could follow us silently for the rest of our days. Throughout this film curriculum, I have therefore reached a conclusion, and that is that in that area, the founding, communication and intimate penetration of "evil" must be the greatest end for anyone who wants to do "horror", a known evil, with which the audience can interact daily in their daily lives, and not just in cinema.

Although The Exorcist entails religious-Catholic ideologies that could be contrasted for some with the idea raised earlier by its "fantasy" or "unknown" server, let's do an exercise of narrative exclusion towards the elements of the "Father", "Catholicism," "Devil" and/or "God" to only focus on the essence of its functional and disturbing success: the projection of evil in its purest state.

The terror of The Exorcist is not found in vomiting, spinning heads, spitting-blood spiders down the stairs or masturbating crucifixes; aesthetics and such superb sequences are mere resources of support to conceptualize the evil incarnate, the one that rots society and rejoices in suffering, the one that serves as the basis for the understanding of the existence of various characters in the history, one who exceeds the limits of understanding. Friedkin didn't seek to explain it, but only to communicate it with singular mastery, building a gloomy setting in the room of a young woman who is engaged in a psychological and spiritual battle against two human beings, one full of faith, another full of anger and doubts! What approach! What a battle! What a way to progress through the script, the performances and address said meeting! Without forgetting the audiovisual technical qualities that led the filmmaker to create this jewel.

Merrin, human archenemy of the Devil, after his arrival, announcement and first confrontation is struck by evil in the eyes of his adversary and his assistant. Witness that moment, the evil sitting in a corner, indifferent, cold, rejoiced, take your time to shudder, so that a shiver runs through your spinal cord, whether you are believers or not, think about the possibility of finding it one day in the form of his fellow, his acquaintance, his neighbor.

The Exorcist has died and hopes fade, however faith takes many forms, and in this case he takes charge of the wrath of Karras, which when taken away from his protection (symbology made for believers in the saying), expires to evil with his sacrifice.

But this wouldn't work if it wasn't for the great beginning of the movie. It is here that father M realizes that his worst fear has come true, that his old enemy, the demon Pazuzu is loose once more upon the world. And he fears that he may no longer be strong enough to stop him. The dogs going savage against each other was symbolism for the devil turning man against brother. It's the great conceptualization of that old fable:

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life:

“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil–he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.”

He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you–and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

The Exorcist is not only the great horror classic, but the only film capable of transcending consciousness in its concept of evil.