Hell Hath No Fury

Two months later, Harlin was in Rome, on Schrader’s old sound stages, shooting a film called Exorcist: The Beginning, made from a new script and featuring almost entirely new creative teams in front of and behind the camera. (Skarsgård and Storaro were the lone holdovers.) Virtually none of Schrader’s scenes were expected to be retained.

“There’s nothing like making a practice movie,” chuckles James Robinson. It’s now May 2004, midway through the Cannes Film Festival, and I’ve literally run down the Croisette from an early-morning press screening of Fahrenheit 9/11 to meet with Robinson in his temporary office at the posh Hotel Martinez. Posters for his first three movies to be distributed by Universal — where Morgan Creek has just moved its deal after more than a decade at Warner Bros. — line the room, while Robinson’s very presence at Cannes is itself something of a statement: Despite reports to the contrary, Morgan Creek is alive and still kicking. Famous for making his fortune before he ever set foot in Hollywood, as a Baltimore entrepreneur whose holdings included a highly profitable Subaru distributorship, Robinson co-founded Morgan Creek in 1988 with then-partner Joe Roth. They went on to enjoy early hits like Young Guns and Major League, mixed in with such prestige titles as David Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers and Paul Mazursky’s Oscar-nominated Enemies: A Love Story. In 1991, the company hit its first bona fide home run with the release of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. But the past few years have been leaner for Robinson, who hasn’t had a smash since 1995’s Ace Ventura: When Nature Callsand whose recent efforts include the likes of Chill Factor, Juwanna Mann and I’ll Be There, pictures that either went straight to video or might just as well have. Any way you slice it, Robinson, who prides himself on his hands-on involvement in all of Morgan Creek’s productions — he claims to personally cast the lead roles in all his pictures, in addition to choosing the key creative teams — has a lot riding on Exorcist: The Beginning.

“I was not happy with the Paul Schrader version,” says Robinson, who looks a bit like Merv Griffin and whose words flow forth in the just-plain-folks patois of a small-town politician running for office. “Now why do I say ‘Paul Schrader version’ when I’m such a hands-on guy?” he continues. “Bottom line here is that we give the director a lot of latitude during the actual making of the movie, and then I step back in during postproduction. I’m there during production, but if a director has got himself a certain agenda, he can put that thing into effect. So, I saw the director’s cut. Then I went in the editing room with Paul, but no matter what we did, it had been shot in such a way that you really couldn’t change it. I use the word cerebral — the movie was more cerebral than it was fun or scary or all the other things. But let’s not kid ourselves. This is the entertainment business. Realizing we could not get the movie we thought we were going to get, the one Frankenheimer would have given us in a heartbeat, I said, ‘We can just throw the thing at video and walk away, or we can make another movie.’”

No question: Robinson is persuasive. Like any true salesman, he’s eternally diplomatic and knows how to work the room. “Jim’s a nice guy,” Caleb Carr tells me by phone several weeks later, “but if you want to go to your grave being one of the most untrustworthy, unreliable people on Earth, he’s got a good shot at it.” Though, like nearly everyone involved with Schrader’s film, he has since moved on to other projects, it’s clear that Carr, who previously suffered an infamously protracted courtship with Scott Rudin over a movie version of The Alienist, still feels bruised by his Exorcistexperience. “You know, I had a very interesting upbringing on the Lower East Side of New York City, and I often marvel at the fact that anything can still shock me,” he says. “I have seen most of the horrible shit that people can do to each other at very close range. Yet I am still stunned by Hollywood people’s capacity to be dishonest. It’s just amazing.”

Pounding the Hollywood pavement between book gigs, Carr had originally come to Morgan Creek to work on a couple of other assignments when, in the fall of 1998, he stumbled onto his own archaeological find: Wisher’s script, lying around in a dusty storeroom. “It did have enormous problems, but it also had one of the greatest opening scenes of a horror movie that I’ve ever read,” Carr says in reference to the Dutch-village sequence he would embellish in his rewrite. “The idea of doing a prequel to The Exorcist was not something I had ever considered, but in the course of reading this thing, I started to think, ‘This is a really cool idea. How does an average priest become an exorcist?’” Though Carr claims it was only through his own persistent nagging that he was even allowed to take a crack at the project, upon finishing his script he found a trio of allies in Morgan