Hell Hath No Fury

Creek’s president at the time, Jonathan Zimbert, and development executives Joe Martino and Hilary Galanoy. Unfortunately, all three were soon to leave the company, in what Carr describes as the first signs that “This was destined to be one of those projects where misfortune just rained down all over the place.”

And for Carr, who had gotten along famously with Frankenheimer, Schrader’s hiring was something of a thunderbolt. (Admittedly not the first person who would spring to mind for the project, Schrader had, according to Carr, landed the gig mainly because of the expectation that his name would generate healthy foreign sales for the film. For his part, Robinson says he “didn’t know Paul Schrader from Adam” when he was proposed by McElwaine, a friend of Schrader’s agent.) “The only time Schrader and I had any contact was a phone call that we had after he was officially hired,” Carr says — a story consistent with Schrader’s own account. “We talked on the phone for probably two hours, out of which I probably talked 15 minutes. And never once — it’s a meaningless detail that nevertheless has some meaning — did Schrader manage to get the words out of his mouth that he liked the script. When I hung up the phone, I realized, ‘That’s it. This is now officially over.’ I called Jim Robinson and said, ‘You need to know that if you hire this guy, this will be his movie. If the day comes when Paul calls me and says, I don’t understand something or I’m lost on this, I will answer the phone. But I do not anticipate that happening.’ And Jim’s constant refrain is that he runs the company, he’s in charge of the show, and, basically, it’s his movie. Which is utter nonsense. He says that on every shoot, and every time he’s got some peculiar excuse for why he actually couldn’t control the director at all.”

If Carr sounds tough on Robinson, you should hear him talk about Schrader. Though he has softened his line considerably since the widely circulated e-mail message in which he accused Schrader of being drunk on the set and suggested, among other things, that the movie might be saved by re-shoots only “if that little cocksucker stays in his fucking hole,” Carr makes little secret of his disdain for Schrader’s version. “What it reminds me of,” he says, “is if you did a blocking rehearsal of the script and somebody filmed it. Nobody’s really focusing. All the actors have that unmistakable look where they’re standing around silently screaming, ‘Someone direct me, please!’ I’ve done a lot of directing in the theater, and I know that look on actors’ faces. But I don’t really blame them. It wasn’t an easy script to do.” He is, however, more than happy to blame Schrader. As he told the Web site Horrorexpress.com in September of last year, “All this crap about Morgan Creek wanting a conventional horror movie is just that, crap made up by Schrader to cover his ass, or rather to cover his lackluster cut.” It was a moment, Carr freely admits, at which he himself was being actively courted by Morgan Creek to return to the project, though that never happened. “I’m sure that Jim Robinson, right up to the moment he got on the plane with Renny Harlin to go to Rome and re-shoot the whole movie, was on his cell phone saying to me, ‘Now, I want to make sure you’re still involved,’” Carr says. “It was one of the most amazing bullshit jobs ever.”

Nowadays, back in upstate New York, where he teaches military history at Bard College and has no immediate plans to return to L.A., Carr has a marginally more generous take on Robinson’s intentions for Exorcist: The Beginning. “You know, the script that I read that they were going to use for the re-shoot — along the lines of a shitty imitation of The Mummy — it wasn’t the worst script I’ve read of that type,” he says. “It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t necessarily awful.”

Reading that script later, I too find it an entertaining, if altogether more conventional, affair. Credited to first-time screenwriter Alexi Hawley (with Carr and Wisher sharing “story by” credit), it has been predictably gussied up with buzzing flies, upside-down crucifixes, sinister tarot cards and, in what may be perceived as a nod to fans of The Passion of the Christ, blood-soaked messages scrawled in Aramaic. The possibly possessed village boy from Carr’s script has been eliminated in favor of an entirely different possibly possessed village boy. A mad professor has been added to the mix. But what’s more remarkable about Hawley’s script are all the ways in which it doesn’t differ from Carr’s. Africa and the archaeological dig are still there, as is the British army, the flashback to the Dutch village (though now positioned much later in the story) and Merrin’s ultimate standoff with the demon — even if, true to a prediction Schrader made at our first meeting, that confrontation is now more physical than theological. “If they were going to spend all that money to do a rock ’em, sock ’em Exorcist, I figured they would have gone toward a Texas Chainsaw–style movie,” Schrader (who has also read the Hawley script) tells me when I drop by his Manhattan office in July on a rain-soaked afternoon. “But they didn’t. They just tried making a more rapid version of what they had and, as such, probably a more commercial version. But whether it’s more commercial in the context of where they were when they made that decision is another matter. If no money had been spent at all, then I suspect that script is more commercial than the one I directed. But having already spent $35 million on my version, is it still more commercial?”