THE RITUAL (2025) – Review
Going into The Ritual, I genuinely wanted to like it. On paper, this should have been a standout entry in the exorcism genre. Directed by David Midell and co-written with Enrico Natale. The film assembles a surprisingly heavyweight cast for a horror movie: Al Pacino, Dan Stevens, Abigail Cowen, Ashley Greene, Patrick Fabian, and Patricia Heaton. That alone sets expectations high. Add in the “based on true events” angle, and it feels like the film is positioning itself as something serious, grounded. And potentially unsettling in a deeper way than your average possession flick.
Unfortunately, while the cast does what they can, the movie surrounding them feels painfully familiar. By the time the credits rolled, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen this exact film many times before. Just with different actors and a different title
A Story Rooted in Reality, But Afraid to Dig Deeper
The film centers on two priests tasked with saving a young woman named Emma Schmidt, whose case is often cited as one of the most documented exorcisms in American history. One priest, played by Dan Stevens, approaches the situation with skepticism, his faith fractured by past trauma. The other, portrayed by Al Pacino, is older, heavier with guilt, and haunted by mistakes that refuse to stay buried.
Together, they must overcome their differences and perform a series of dangerous exorcisms to rid Emma of the entity tormenting her. This setup had real potential. A true story like this offers an opportunity to explore not just supernatural horror, but the psychological toll of belief, doubt, and responsibility.
Instead, the film uses its real-world roots mostly as window dressing. It gestures toward authenticity without ever fully committing to it. It choosing genre convention over deeper exploration at almost every turn.
An Exorcism Genre Running on Autopilot
At this point, exorcism films come with a built-in checklist, and The Ritual follows it almost beat for beat. We get the distorted voices, the unnatural body movements, the levitation, the blasphemous insults hurled at the clergy. And the familiar cycle of “it’s getting worse” escalation. None of it is executed terribly — it’s just relentlessly predictable.
While watching, I found myself anticipating scares seconds before they happened. Not because I was paying close attention, but because the movie telegraphs everything so clearly. There’s no sense of surprise, no moment where the film truly blindsides you or redefines what possession horror can look like. What once felt shocking in this genre now plays like ritualistic repetition, and ironically, that’s exactly the problem here.
Performances That Deserve a Better Movie
If there’s one consistent bright spot, it’s the acting. Al Pacino gives a restrained, almost somber performance that avoids caricature. He doesn’t chew the scenery or lean into theatrics; instead, he plays his priest as a man worn down by years of spiritual warfare. There’s quiet authority in his presence, and I often found myself wishing the film would slow down just to let him inhabit scenes longer.
Dan Stevens is arguably the emotional backbone of the film. His portrayal of a priest grappling with doubt feels sincere, and his gradual shift from rational skepticism to existential terror is convincing. In my opinion, Stevens does the most with the material he’s given, especially in moments where the horror is more internal than supernatural. You can see the weight of belief pressing down on him, and those moments are far more compelling than any jump scare.
Abigail Cowen shines most when she’s allowed to be human. The scenes where Emma briefly resurfaces — confused, exhausted, terrified — are far more unsettling than the possession itself. When the demon takes over, her performance is serviceable but familiar. That’s less a failure on her part and more a limitation of the role. Which demands she repeat the same exorcism-movie behaviors audiences have seen countless times before.
Style Over Substance — and Not Even Much Style
One of the most baffling aspects of The Ritual is its visual approach. The film frequently adopts a shaky, almost mockumentary-style camera movement that feels completely at odds with the story being told. This isn’t found footage, yet the camera behaves as if it is. This results in awkward framing, unnecessary close-ups, and a constant sense of visual instability.
Instead of heightening tension, the cinematography often pulls you out of the moment. Scenes that should feel oppressive or claustrophobic end up feeling messy and unfocused. This stylistic choice actively works against the film, making it harder to connect emotionally and diminishing what little atmosphere it manages to build.
A Safe, Forgettable Descent Into the Expected
By the final act, The Ritual settles fully into autopilot. Every narrative beat lands exactly where you expect it to. Every moment of crisis, every test of faith, every final confrontation unfolds without surprise. The film never takes a creative risk, never challenges its audience, and never justifies its existence beyond competent execution.
That’s what makes the experience so frustrating. There are moments — usually involving Pacino or Stevens — where you glimpse the film this could have been. A more intimate, more psychologically driven exploration of belief and possession. Instead, it chooses safety, familiarity, and formula.
Final Thoughts
In my opinion, The Ritual is the definition of wasted potential. It’s not offensively bad, nor is it completely inept. It’s simply bland — a technically competent but creatively hollow entry in an already overcrowded genre. Strong performances can’t compensate for a script that refuses to innovate and direction that seems unsure of how to build genuine dread.
If you’re deeply invested in exorcism films, there’s enough here to hold your attention for a couple of hours. But for everyone else, this is likely to blur into the long list of possession movies you half-remember and never revisit. Despite its pedigree and true-story foundation. The Ritual ultimately feels less like a chilling experience and more like a ritual you’ve already endured far too many times.
