From its outset, "Emily Rose" presents itself as an entirely atypical thriller. Rather than frame its story within the conventions of the genre, the film combines equal parts horror and courtroom drama. Based loosely on the true story of a 1970s Minnesota teenager who died following an attempted exorcism, "Emily Rose" chronicles the trial of Father Moore (an assured Tom Wilkinson), who faces charges of criminal negligence following the girl's gruesome death. In an effort to avoid public scandal, the Archdiocese hires defense attorney and self-described agnostic Erin Bruner (Oscar nominee Laura Linney) on Moore's behalf. Though she hardly seems one to believe in demons, Linney's character develops a strong faith in the sincerity of Father Moore and passionately defends him against a prosecutorial case which alleges that Emily in fact suffered not from possession but from psychotic epilepsy, and that Moore's failure to defer to conventional medical wisdom directly resulted in her death.
As the trial unfolds, the story of Emily's descent into madness is told in stunning accounts of ghoulish apparitions and harrowing struggles. In turn, Bruner's involvement in the case-about which, Moore explains, swirl "dark forces"-gives rise to seemingly demonic visions of her own. Director Scott Derrickson is meticulously shrewd in these depictions, however, ensuring that Bruner's scenes are eerie enough to be frightening but not so fantastic as to seem beyond plausibility. Likewise, the testimony from which the film's more horrific scenes are drawn is readily contested by the prosecution so that audience members are prompted to evaluate for themselves the arguments of either side.
In this regard the film is masterful, revealing a reciprocal to every intrigue. Bruner is instructed by the Archdiocese to keep Moore from testifying in an effort to minimize embarrassment to the church, yet Moore's selfless insistence that he "tell what really happened to Emily" compels her to defy this instinct. The question of Moore's trial is not simply whether or not demons exist, but whether or not the priest can be found guilty if both he and Emily sincerely believe that they do. Did Father Moore's negligence precipitate the death of a young girl, or would an insistence on forcible medical treatment have conflicted with her right to choose a spiritual cure?
While the care taken to ensure this depth is readily evident, the film's dual nature ultimately works to the detriment of its showmanship; as a hybrid of two genres, it is neither here nor there. Unlike simpler horror films which make no effort (and, one might argue, have no need) to question the substance of their plot, "Emily Rose" often feels encumbered by its philosophical bent and never takes off as its more chilling moments suggest that it should. That is not to say that the film is boring-far from it. Ultimately, it may be that "Emily Rose" simply attempts to cover more ground than may be readily contained within a two-hour movie.
In spite of its shortcomings, there is no denying that "Emily Rose" is truly insightful and provocative, not to mention frightening. While many horror fans will likely leave the theater more perplexed than enthralled, this brooding film is nevertheless sure to leave its mark as a highlight of the genre.