The Antichrist

The roaring success achieved by William Friedken’s “The Exorcist” (1973) didn’t catch Italian producers off-guard, considering that the nation’s genre cinema found itself specializing in possession movies within a few months’ time. Although it was mostly atrocious-quality product heavily dependent on eroticism – sometimes veering into hardcore – from this chaotic stew brimming with ineptitude and rip-offs, Alberto De Martino’s “The Antichrist” (also known in the US as “The Temper”) emerges as a partial exception.

Of high technical quality, the film avails itself of a soundtrack composed by Ennio Morricone and executed by Bruno Nicolai, as well as the noteworthy cinematography of Aristide Massaccesi (aka “Joe d’Amato”), who is passionate about putting the Eternal City’s artistic radiance front and center (the monastery of Santa Sabina all’Aventino, the mausoleum of Cecilia Metella, the countless closeups of sculptures, fountains, and frescoes, not to mention the atmospheric finale inside the Colosseum).

Repeated attempts to add depth to the story with a deluge of historical and cultural references – from the repercussions of the Council of Trent and the addresses of Pope Paul VI, to bringing into play Christian figures such as Saint Philip Neri, Teresa of Ávila, and John of the Cross – clearly fall flat in the face of an embarrassing dearth of general creativity. So, despite all the serious dialogue and grave expressions, it all comes down to the same old possessed girl spewing the same old profanity and pea-green emesis (the special effects are pathetic, by the way).

Disappointing performances from the cast including an embalmed Mel Ferrer, an entirely squandered Alida Valli, a Carla Gravina who’s not terribly credible in the role of an invalid (among other things, it isn’t exactly clear how she manages to drive a car), and a Mario Scaccia so ludicrously stereotypical that he seems to have stepped directly off the set of the upcoming Italian comedy “Occhio, malocchio, prezzemolo e finocchio” (also known as “Evil Eye” – 1983).

Finally, just so we don’t miss out on anything, not even a dose of unintentional humor, we’re obliged to sit through Umberto Orsini in the role of a supposed psychiatrist who spews a rapid-fire slew of bombastic balderdash along the lines of “Once the traumas experienced by your previous life are cleansed, I’m sure I can cure her. It is an apparent phenomenon of reincarnation. In other words, the personality of a dead person is in another person” or, “Any student of parapsychology could name it and all that we have seen. I do not know what they call it today, but in the past it would have been called a case of demonic possession”.

Hearing a doctor make boasts like that, I’d likely opt to put my faith in a priest as well if push came to shove.