Sister Ann knows exactly what she wants to be: an exorcist. But a glass ceiling—a stained glass ceiling—is in her way.
In the Catholic Church, only priests can be exorcists. And only men can be priests. Them’s the rules, and they’ve been in place for 2,000 years. The church isn’t going to change course now—even if today’s exorcists are dealing with a sudden surge in cases. Even if the Vatican has taken the unprecedented step of opening exorcist schools around the world—including right there in Boston.
Sister Ann accepts her status. Mostly. She is, after all, a nun these days—wedded to Christ and living under the vows of poverty, chastity and (sigh) obedience.
Still, she thinks she’d be a dynamite exorcist. And she has some deeply personal reasons for wanting to become one.
When she was growing up, her mother was … uneven. Sometimes she’d be loving and caring. Other times, she’d be a terror—yanking out Ann’s hair in clumps with her wicked comb, pounding at locked doors with her head as Ann, on the other side, prayed and prayed. The doctors said Ann’s mom was schizophrenic. But Ann suspected that her mother’s ills were more spiritual than mental: Mom was, Ann believed, possessed. And the demons she hosted eventually destroyed her.
Ann was terrified of her mother. But looking back, how Ann wished she could’ve helped her. Now, all she wants to do is help other people with the same infernal affliction: She sees the people behind the black eyes and snarling mouths. She wants to bring them back.
But for now, Ann only helps as she’s allowed. Boston’s exorcism school serves as sort of a possessed-person’s hospital, too—where those suspected of being possessed are held, observed and (if necessary) treated. Ann serves as a sort of nurse, visiting those under observation. She brings them food, gives them baths and talks with them when they’re in their right mind.
And she’s made a particularly strong attachment with Natalie, a 10-year-old girl. Ann admires her crayon drawings. She sneaks her a bit of candy now and then. As the doctors and exorcists discuss the child’s condition, Ann sits on the sad little girl’s bed and whispers to Natalie, with a wink and a smile, “She’s not as scary as she looks.”
Surely, a sweet little girl like this—who draws pictures of rainbow trains and who smiles as big as sunshine—couldn’t be really possessed, could she?
But the devil does not spare sweet little girls from his attentions. And Natalie is indeed under his sway.
For his infernal legions, the true prize isn’t this 10-year-old child: It’s Ann. In her, the demons see a grievous threat … and a coveted prize. If they can use Natalie to get to Ann, the realms below would ring their crooked bells.
If they have their way, Ann may soon see possession from the other side of the prison wall.
Sister Ann certainly means well. She’s kind and generous and, indeed, truly wants to help both her church and those poor possessed souls. And as we learn more about her backstory, we discover just what sort of obstacles she had to deal with to get to where she is now. It’s not easy to overcome the childhood wounds she suffered, or to recover from her wayward teen years. But, through the grace of God (whom she would quickly credit), Ann did overcome those obstacles, finding a home and purpose in the sisterhood. She also chooses to commit an act of great sacrifice to save someone, too.
The priests around Ann eye her interest in exorcism with varying degrees of support or concern. Father Dante (Ann’s best friend at the school) would love to see her join him on the front lines. Father Raymond believes that allowing Ann to become an exorcist would be a mistake. Father Quinn, the primary spiritual teacher at the school, is of two minds: On one, he’s respectful of the Church’s laws and believe they’re there for a reason. On the other, he sees Ann’s passion and spirit, and he knows that Ann has a strong bond with the girl still inside Natalie’s body. Perhaps Ann can save her where nobody else can.
But regardless of how they view Ann, all of these priests seem committed to doing good here. They’re committed to fulfilling their vows faithfully and doing their jobs courageously.
We should also note that the school employs psychologists, too; they help both the exorcists and the patients themselves. In the movie, all sides acknowledge that it can be difficult to tell the difference between possession and mental illness, and the school responsibly tries to make the right determination—and thus give its patients the right sort of help.
As you can tell—perhaps beginning with the movie’s title—Prey For the Devil is just dripping with spiritual content. (At times, quite literally: There’s a huge font of holy water in the school’s catacombs.)
We’re dealing with demonic entities and possession from the first scene to the last, and infernal forces are quite active throughout. But so are other, better forces. The demons we see are often impacted by signs of the cross and holy water and the like. We hear plenty of prayers and Scripture readings, too. “Always remember the Word of God is your most powerful weapon,” Father Quinn tells his students.
Prey for the Devil also seems to make an interesting point regarding the nature of possession: Many of the victims most grievously afflicted are those who feel so much guilt and shame over past sins that, they believe, the mercy of God doesn’t extend to them. They deserve whatever’s coming to them. While the film makes it clear that that’s not true—that no one is beyond God’s love and mercy—that sense of unworthiness cracks the door open a bit and leaves these struggling souls very vulnerable.
But sometimes, the film can spin that reasonably cogent take in unhealthy ways, too. During an exorcism, Sister Ann tells a possessed woman that God loves her—even though she committed an act that she feels incredible shame over. She is not beyond God’s mercy. The woman seems to believe it. And when the demon apparently disappears, Ann tells her, “You’re saved. You saved yourself.” In the context of the movie, I get what Ann means, but the statement still felt quite off.
[Spoiler Warning] The movie itself might debunk Ann’s assertion, too. The exorcism isn’t successful, and the consequences are tragic.
Prey For the Devil also has a religious feminist point to make.
A persnickety nun tells Ann that her duty is to “comfort, to pray, to show mercy” to those afflicted. “That is all.” It doesn’t matter to said persnickety nun, or to the Church at large, that Ann has both the aptitude and the inclination to become an exorcist. While the film points out that women have been exorcists before (name-checking Catherine of Siena as one in the 1300s), the theological tension about whether Ann should be one seems designed to point to the real-world tension over whether the Catholic Church should allow female priests. In one scene, Ann dresses herself in explicitly priestly garb, collar and all.
We see loads of crucifixes (including one used to, perhaps symbolically, pry open a lock) and rosaries. A statue of Jesus looms over a font of holy water; a statue of Michael about to stab the devil (depicted as half dragon) graces the school’s foyer.
Candles and Catholic iconography make appearances. Loads of characters pray and recite Scripture. We learn that the Catholic Church truly saved Ann—spiritually and perhaps physically—when as a teen she made some very poor decisions.
Sister Ann and Father Dante attend to a woman who was raped and got pregnant. She eventually got rid of the baby (the movie doesn’t say how, but you could surmise she had an abortion), and the shame she feels over the act has apparently left her open for possession. We see her exposed tummy during the exorcism, though it’s obviously not designed to be at all titillating.
[Spoiler Warning] During the exorcism, the demon inside the woman points out that Ann, too, knows what it’s like to have a new life growing inside her—and what it’s like to give it up. It mocks Ann for not even knowing the father of her child. Later, Ann admits that she got pregnant when she was 15, and she was so “wasted” that she didn’t know the father’s name. She chose adoption for her baby.
Demons lash out in loads of ways—actually killing some folks who seek to dispel or curb them.
In perhaps the movie’s most violent scene (in the back of an ambulance), it appears as though a demon-possessed individual may separate a man’s arm from his body (the scene is incredibly quick, so it’s hard to say definitively) and sets a priest’s crucifix on fire—beginning a process of immolating the priest. When the ambulance arrives at its destination, it arrives with three corpses. (We’re not exposed to any graphic close-ups, though. Rather, we hear someone talk about the fatalities.)
We also see priests telekinetically hurled into walls and gates—sometimes killing them. A man is yanked off his feet. In flashbacks, we see a woman lying dead on the floor, her head laying in a pool of blood. (We hear that the woman killed herself.)
Grotesque scenes and images abound as well. Hair is pulled into a girl’s mouth, and a hand shoots out of that same mouth. Someone pulls what looks to be a strand of hair from her own eyeball. A woman removes what apparently was a prosthetic from her face, revealing a gaping maw of sinew and working jaw underneath. A woman seems to have something horrific crawling in her distended belly, and that same belly is covered in finger marks from the woman herself clawing at it.
Possessed individuals bend backwards in impossible positions (surely deeply painful to the possessed), scamper up walls and seem to try to lick others with long, pointed tongues. A possessed man’s back is scrubbed, and the water seems to burn him. Crosses burn. Someone is submerged in holy water—tormenting the demon inside and nearly drowning the mortal person.
We hear that centuries before, “hundreds” of women were drowned in a holy water font when they suspected of being possessed. (Whether they were or not is up for debate.) A wall is filled with pictures of exorcists who apparently died in the line of duty. We hear several references to possessed people who hit a “terminal” state of possession: Father Quinn says that while the soul may still be saved, death is imminent for the body. Later, we hear that 90% of people who enter that terminal state die, a figure that Sister Ann finds shocking.
In flashbacks, we see Ann’s mother pound her head against doors and comb Ann’s hair violently. Fan blades supernaturally fling off the fan itself, embedding in walls and crashing through windows.
One s-word, uttered by a very alarmed priest. But that’s it.
We hear references to Ann’s wild youth, where she apparently drank a lot of alcohol, did drugs or both. Ann and a couple of priests drink wine after a harrowing experience.
One priest says that after being involved in an exorcism as part of his education, he’ll need to wear “adult diapers” to class from now on.
Father Dante and Sister Ann conspire to trick their superiors in order to get into restricted areas of the exorcism library and take part in an unsanctioned exorcism.
As a movie, Prey for the Devil feels a little unsure of itself. Though it often plays like a straight-up, not-particularly-original exorcism movie, it sometimes edges into more fantastical, Van Helsing-like territory. I could be wrong, but I’m assuming that the Catholic Church doesn’t actually run such well-appointed training schools, filled with handy possessed patients on which to train. It’d not surprise me if, by Prey for the Devil VI, Sister Ann is toting a crossbow that fires flaming, crucifix-tipped bolts.
Admittedly, the content here is more restrained than it could’ve been. This PG-13 movie can be grotesque, but it’s not wildly gory. The language is surprisingly reined in. And the explicitly religious heroes here are both heroic and devout. That, in today’s cynical landscape, is nice to see.
But those positives aside, Prey for the Devil comes with all the negatives you’d expect. Lots of demonic activity. Lots of scenes that’ll make you jump or wince. And it’ll have many would-be viewers casting it aside, if not casting it out.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
