On rebooted 'Exorcist,' a new way to get rid of demons: Hugging it out

The frightfully bad sequels, prequels and rip-offs that followed William Friedkin's classic 1973 film "The Exorcist" usually featured a predictable, if central, scene: One or two Catholic priests, representing the patriarchal church, attack their demonic foe with clerical muscle. The possessed victim - who is almost always female and restrained in an unavoidable suggestion of sadomasochism - hisses and teases the men while they flick holy water on her (more of an "it" than a "her" at this point) and shout prayers and scripture. Evil is vanquished through brute force.

One of the many thoughtful surprises, therefore, in Fox's underappreciated series version of "The Exorcist" this fall came early in the story, when a jaded, veteran demon-chaser, Father Marcus Keane (Ben Daniels), meets Mother Bernadette (Deanna Dunagan), a cloistered nun whose exorcism technique is altogether modern and, in a more sublime sense, feminine.

Instead of trying to cast the demon out, Mother Bernadette and her sisters offer a warm embrace and the power of forgiveness. When the moment is right - once the demon inside a human is exhausted by restraint, prayer and holy water - the sisters flip the script and welcome the evil presence back to God and eternal bliss, softly whispering to the demon that he is loved, that his many sins are washed away.

This method works a whole lot better than all the screaming, cussing and extreme chiropracty. And it once more reminds us that vengeance and hatred eventually consume the soul, while forgiveness, directed even at the worst offenders we can imagine, offers a way out of darkness. Mother Bernadette's lesson is a refresher course at this particular moment in our culture's constant grudge match.

That plot point and others convinced me that this version of "The Exorcist," created by Jeremy Slater, has a lot more on its mind than simply rehashing one more movie or TV show from the past.

"It's been a terrifying challenge," Slater told me recently. He knows fans of the original "Exorcist" rolled their eyes when Fox announced the show, as did plenty of critics; had he not been making it, "I would have had the exact same reaction."

With just two of its 10 episodes left to air this Friday and next, "The Exorcist" may not be delivering the ratings the network hoped for (falling well below 2 million viewers each week), yet, from the first episode, Slater's version distinguished itself with a look and sensibility that honors Friedkin's eerie style. It also tells a much broader story that touches on several areas of conflict, particularly for today's ambivalent American Catholic.

"I was adamant that our show cannot be an attack on the Catholic Church, that we can't sit here and take easy potshots at something that's important to people's faith," Slater said. "We have to also present the church as it is, addressing some of the ugly little secrets, but also showing it as a powerful force for good in the world." That means including old demons and references to pedophiles; it also means showing soup kitchens and bold, problem-solving nuns.

The show is set in Chicago, where church officials are pulling out all stops for an upcoming papal visit. A sinister cabal of upper-crust Catholics (both clergy and lay members), who call themselves the Friars of Ascension, are entrusted with the logistics of the pope's visit. As it happens, they're also devil worshippers who have the organs of murder victims on the city's South Side incinerated so they can use the ashes for a "vocare pulvere" summoning ritual.

It's nutty, yes - and upsetting, I'd imagine, to the sort of Catholic who can still get worked up over wildly fictional depictions of the faith. (If so, they probably ought to conserve fuel for next month, when HBO brings out a provocative miniseries called "The Young Pope.")

Without becoming an overt theological commentary, this "Exorcist" nevertheless touches on relevant aspects of today's church. The Friars of Ascension, led by a priest with a taste for luxury, could very well stand in for the corruption and cover-up that lurked behind the piety of a Pope Benedict-era conservative bent. Father Marcus, one of the show's two deeply flawed heroes, is found doing time at one of those priestly rehab centers where the church used to hide its pedophiles and other reprobates. His transgression? Performing exorcisms, one of which resulted in the death of a possessed boy.

Geena Davis stars as Angela Rance, a hotel executive who asks her young, idealistic parish priest, Father Tomas Ortega (Alfonso Herrera), for help with her older daughter, Kat (Brianne Howey), who has withdrawn and confined herself to her bedroom after a traumatic event.

With his Latino heritage and deep commitment to serving the poor, Father Tomas is clearly meant to represent the church's future, the one promoted by the real-life Pope Francis. When Father Tomas visits the Rance household (a multistory townhouse, echoing the original "Exorcist") to counsel Kat, he instead has a bizarre encounter with Angela's younger, seemingly happy teenage daughter, Casey (Hannah Kasulka), who soon goes full Linda Blair on the place. (Cue the sputum - what would "The Exorcist" be without its excessive effluvia?)

Out of his depth and unfamiliar with the church's musty exorcism rituals, Father Tomas seeks out Father Marcus; the two priests go to Mother Bernadette's convent and witness a glimmer of hope in her redemption-centered technique.

"Mother Bernadette came from a sense that if the show is lucky enough to run for more seasons, it would get exhausting to see the same rite of exorcism over and over," Slater said. So he and his writing staff (which includes a couple of nonpracticing Catholics) tried to envision exorcism from other perspectives and even other faiths. "What would it look like carried out by a group of nuns," Slater wondered, "or by a rabbi or a Southern Baptist faith healer?" (For a more Protestant approach to demon-ridding, check out the first season of Cinemax's gloomy but impressive "Outcast," which ran last summer.)

It's impossible to write about what's good about "The Exorcist" without revealing some of its shockers. If you intend to go back and watch it from the beginning (which I recommend), then here's your spoiler alert.

As its story grew more absorbing, "The Exorcist" revealed that Casey Rance is possessed by Pazuzu, aka "Captain Howdy," the same demon who worked his way into young Regan MacNeil in the original film. Rather than leave viewers imagining what it's like to have a demon inside you, "The Exorcist" personifies Pazuzu as a salesman (Robert Emmet Lunney) in a singed business suit, a being that only Casey can see.

Soon enough, Casey's mother, Angela, recognizes him and confesses her darkest secret: She is Regan MacNeil, four decades later. It isn't long before Angela welcomes Pazuzu back into her body, unleashing an evil that even Mother Bernadette can't redeem, and it's a plot twist that capitalizes on Davis' noteworthy commitment to playing a parent possessed.

It's a little bit hokey and a whole lot of fun, and Slater was pleased that relatively few viewers saw the big surprise coming. "That was sort of the blessing of having a small audience in those first few weeks," he said. "With something like 'Westworld,' those fans guessed every damn twist before it happened and were all over (the internet) with it. ... We didn't have thousands of people writing about our show every week."

Thus, in a tender mercy, you are forgiven for missing what "The Exorcist" has to offer - and you still have two episodes to do penance.