Released in theaters on June 6, 2025, The Ritual is a haunting religious horror film based on the real-life 1928 exorcism of Emma Schmidt—one of the most documented cases of alleged possession in American history. Directed and co-written by David Midell, and produced in association with Buzzfeed Studios, the film stars Al Pacino as Father Theophilus Riesinger, a devout German-American exorcist, and Dan Stevens as Father Joseph Steiger, a modern priest grappling with grief and spiritual doubt. Also starring Abigail Cowen, Patricia Heaton, Ashley Greene, and Patrick Fabian, The Ritual dramatizes a brutal, 23-day exorcism in a remote Iowa convent. In this film review, we explore the claustrophobic tension, visceral performances, and spiritual undercurrents that drive this slow-burn tale of possession, pain, and the search for salvation.
Genre:Drama, Horror, Thriller
A Classic Structure, Steeped in Atmosphere
From its opening scenes, The Ritual wears its influences on its sleeve. A crumbling convent. An ailing young woman. A priest who’s lost his faith, paired with one who’s clinging to it with his last breath. It’s the blueprint of countless exorcism films—and yet, thanks to a firm commitment to historical accuracy and grounded character work, The Ritual feels more restrained and mature than many of its genre peers.
Real History, Reimagined
The story takes place in 1928 Earling, Iowa, where Emma Schmidt (Cowen), a devout Catholic woman, begins displaying disturbing behavior. Her mother contacts the Church, and the Vatican authorizes a formal exorcism led by Father Riesinger (Pacino). Father Steiger (Stevens), still mourning the recent suicide of his brother, is assigned to host the ritual and assist—despite his skepticism.
The exorcism is conducted over 23 grueling days in three distinct stages, with Emma bound to a bed in an upper room. The film doesn’t rush to deliver shocks. Instead, it carefully builds dread through long silences, sparse lighting, and a palpable sense of spiritual weight.
A Career-Curving Turn from Al Pacino
It’s impossible to discuss The Ritual without addressing Al Pacino’s deeply idiosyncratic performance. With a thick German accent and a weary, muttering cadence, Pacino’s Father Riesinger is as much a relic of another era as he is a man of God. His performance teeters between gritty realism and theatrical abstraction, occasionally veering into near-camp but always held together by sheer magnetism.
Riesinger is no action hero—he is old, frail, and haunted, often shown praying in dark corners, his hands trembling, his eyes flickering with fear and faith. Pacino infuses the role with a sense of deep internal turmoil, portraying an exorcist who is himself being consumed by the battle he's chosen to fight.
Dan Stevens Grounds the Conflict
As the more modern, emotionally frayed Father Steiger, Dan Stevens offers a strong counterbalance to Pacino’s gravity. He plays Steiger not as a man of certainty, but as a reluctant participant trying to make sense of suffering through logic and compassion. His arc—moving from disillusionment to conviction—is the film’s emotional spine.
While the character is at times too reactive, Stevens injects enough pathos to make his journey believable. His growing rapport with Emma in her lucid moments adds tenderness to a film that is otherwise relentlessly grim.
Abigail Cowen Gives a Physically Demanding Performance
As Emma, Abigail Cowen is asked to do a lot—scream, contort, writhe, spit bile, and emote through layers of makeup and prosthetics. But she also manages to humanize Emma during rare, quiet moments. Her performance reminds the audience that beneath the demonic manifestation is a deeply traumatized woman in need of healing—not just from supernatural forces, but from past abuse, isolation, and religious guilt.
The film uses her condition to explore themes of mental illness and trauma without fully resolving them, but Cowen’s portrayal invites empathy beyond the horror.
The Horror is More Spiritual Than Supernatural
Visions, Voices, and Vengeance
Unlike typical exorcism fare that relies on jump scares and over-the-top visual effects, The Ritual is most terrifying when it leans into subtlety. The horror is often psychological and ambient, built on mood rather than spectacle. There are supernatural events—levitations, voices, impossible strength—but they’re shown through the eyes of characters who are doubting even what they see.
This restraint works in the film’s favor. The moments of chaos feel earned, not gimmicky. A scene in which Emma channels multiple voices—some claiming to be Judas, others family members—is as chilling as anything involving a flying crucifix or demonic CGI.
A Heavy-Handed but Earnest Approach
Director David Midell clearly has reverence for the story and for Catholic ritual. His approach is solemn, sometimes to a fault. The film occasionally feels overburdened by its seriousness, with little room for levity or dramatic surprise. At times, the dialogue leans into theological exposition, slowing the pace in the middle stretch.
The film's cinematography, dominated by handheld close-ups and muted tones, creates a sense of intimacy, but the shaky style may prove divisive. Some viewers may find the aesthetic immersive; others may find it visually fatiguing. Either way, it adds a sense of documentary realism that underlines the film’s “based on true events” identity.
Faith vs. Skepticism – A Familiar Yet Compelling Conflict
At the heart of The Ritual lies the enduring tension between faith and reason. Steiger’s reluctance to believe in demonic possession—despite witnessing increasingly disturbing events—mirrors broader societal debates about science, psychology, and spirituality. Riesinger’s absolute faith is not presented as blindly righteous, but as a costly commitment.
The film smartly refrains from giving easy answers. Is Emma truly possessed? Or is she suffering from trauma and psychosis? The film lands on the side of belief, but leaves just enough ambiguity to keep the conversation going.
Final Verdict – A Slow, Somber Possession Tale with Weight
The Ritual may not reinvent the exorcism genre, but it elevates it with seriousness, strong performances, and a historical foundation that gives its horror a haunting echo. Pacino’s eccentric but engrossing turn, paired with Stevens’ grounded skepticism and Cowen’s raw vulnerability, ensures the film always has a human core beneath its spiritual battle.
This is not a film for jump-scare seekers or casual viewers. It’s a slow-burn horror drama steeped in Catholic theology, moral struggle, and psychological dread. Its most terrifying element is not the demon, but the cost of belief—and the silence of a world that too often refuses to listen until it’s too late.
Rating: ★★★½ (3.5/5)