Dispossessed

DISPOSSESSED

One of the greatest horrors of my tawdry little childhood occurred when I was about eleven years old. It was at a friend’s birthday party and there were around fifteen obnoxious, prepubescent boys who had to be entertained by one unfortunate, adult couple. In the evening we all went to the cinema to see Young Frankenstein and Party Party but during the afternoon we all watched a video at their house. Videos were still something of a novelty then.
As the film started we paid little heed, preferring to talk young boys’ nonsense. Suddenly all sorts of things began to happen on screen and we were all entranced for the remainder of the movie. It was The Exorcist. I had been brought up as a Catholic by my Irish mother and so believed the horrific visions unfolding before me. I was utterly petrified by the whole thing. After all, the Gospels have plenty of stories with Jesus casting out demons, I sort of listened to them most Sundays; it must be true. I was a mite affected by that film.
At the time I had inherited the room previously occupied by one of my elder brothers who had gone to university. It was part of the converted attic and slightly larger than Pavarotti’s coffin. There was the bed against one wall and a desk on the opposite; I sat on the bed to write on the desk. Dad refused to heat the room but, during the winter months, he would board up the skylight so that the water tanks did not freeze. At night it was pitch black. I spent the next two months or so unable to sleep as I waited, terrified, for my bed to start moving.
There is no doubt that the film shaped my life and was one of the reasons why I became annoyingly religious in my teens. I had never seen it again; I was far too frightened. I did have an idea, a few years ago, for a Reality Television programme. It would involve a group of people, all of whom were affected in some way by The Exorcist. Each person would tell the story of seeing the movie and how it had altered their life. All the people would then meet and watch the film together, with a camera positioned behind the screen to catch the horrified faces. Just a thought.
Having rejected all things religious as an adult, I occasionally thought about the film and toyed with the idea of watching it again. I once noticed a DVD copy on sale in Cash Converters but did not have the nerve to buy the thing. It remained a small thought at the back of my head and an occasional topic of conversation with friends.
In early July 2008 I noticed that The Exorcist was being shown on one of the cable channels I receive, on a Wednesday evening. For a week I argued with myself about whether to watch the thing or not. That lunchtime I indulged in some cider therapy as I tried to muster the courage to face my childhood demon, please excuse the pun. As the evening progressed and the clock moved inexorably to nine o’ clock and the start of the movie, I bolstered my flagging bravery with some rouge and a prince harry. At around eight I panicked and rang my dear friend Jann with whom I had had a conversation about the film only the previous week. I was feeling alone and scared.
‘Would you mind watching it as well, so that we could metaphorically hold hands?’
‘No. If you want to be that stupid it’s down to you. I’ll be watching Diet On the Dancefloor.’
That’s what friends are for.
The film started. It begins with a load of archeology which those small boys of yesteryear had found so tedious. I watched with trepidation. Then the film moves onto the young girl playing with the Ouija Board and meeting Mr. Whatever-his-name-was. At the moment when her beds starts moving I passed out, waking with a start at four in the morning feeling decidedly foolish but a little relieved. So much for that idea.
A week or so later it was being shown again, though this time on a Thursday. I determined to just do it and did not even have a drink that day. I watched the movie as jober as a sudge. It was not surprising that the film affected me so much as it is almost promotional for Catholicism; I could have been a prompter for much of the script, amen.
It is a tremendous movie. It finished, I abluted, went to bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. My slumbers were untroubled by any nightmares.
Possibly life is better if we confront our fears, especially the irrational ones.