Scary, strange, surreal, and yet also very
funny at times, the offbeat drama/thriller The
Ninth Configuration marked the directorial debut of William Peter Blatty,
the Oscar-winning novelist and screenwriter of The Exorcist (1973). Blending themes of madness and militarism with
a narrative setup suitable for some old-fashioned haunted-house shocker, Blatty
adapted the movie from his 1978 novel of the same name, which was in turn
extrapolated from one of his earlier books, the 1966 novel Twinkle, Twinkle, “Killer” Kane! Employing an exceptional group of
actors, some of whom reconvened for Blatty’s only other directorial
endeavor—the underrated sequel The
Exorcist III (1990)—The Ninth
Configuration uses humor and terror to weave a bizarre tapestry of
existentialism, spirituality, and violence. Superficially, it’s about
psychiatry, space travel, and Vietnam, and there’s even room for a bar brawl. The Ninth Configuration doesn’t always
work, because some scenes are confusing, and because parsing what the whole
thing means once it’s over is challenging. Nonetheless, this is a unique piece
of work from a wildly creative individual unafraid to tackle the heaviest of
subject matter.
Set in the Pacific Northeast, the picture takes place in a
castle that the U.S. government has repurposed as an asylum. (If you’re already
have trouble buying that outlandish notion, this movie is not for you.) One
stormy night, a fierce-looking Marine officer named Colonel Kane (Stacy Keach)
arrives to join the psychiatric staff at the facility. He encounters a spectrum
of bizarre patients. Major Namimak (Moses Gunn) dresses like Superman and
believes he has extraordinary powers. Lieutenant Reno (Jason Miller) fancies
himself a theater director as he oversees rehearsals for a production of Hamlet featuring dogs instead of humans.
The sensitive Captain Cutshaw (Scott Wilson) trained to be an astronaut until
he had a nervous breakdown just before takeoff for his moon shot. And so on.
In
its wildest scenes, The Ninth
Configuration features the tightly wound Kane walking through the corridors
of the castle with absurd behavior happening all around him, suggesting the
idea of an emotionally vulnerable individual grasping for pieces of sanity in a
world gone mad. The man responsible for all of the chaos is Colonel Fell (Ed
Flanders), the facility’s chief administrator, who believes letting patients
act out fantasies helps the healing process. Another nuance? Fell and Kane are
tasked with determining which patients are genuinely ill and which are faking
to avoid military service. Yet the most explosive X factor in this fraught
environment is Kane, whose frightening capacity for rage has surprising
connections to an ugly battlefield incident in the past.
Working with the great
British cinematographer Gerry Fisher, whose images mesh intimacy with
grandiosity in clever ways, Blatty generates a one-of-a-kind feel. Since
anything can happen, owing to the lunatics-running-the-asylum milieu, The Ninth Configuration is consistently
surprising even though it’s rarely believable—or, to be more precise, even
though it’s rarely believable in terms of
logic. On an emotional level, the movie connects big-time, especially because
the acting is so robust. Keach’s signature intensity has terrifying power.
Wilson reveals heartbreaking vulnerability. Flanders, Gunn, Miller, Neville
Brand, Robert Loggia, Joe Spinell, and others populate the hospital with
wounded souls distinguished by amusing eccentricities and/or poignant psychological
wounds. Does it all spin out of control toward the end? Somewhat. But does
Blatty create dozens of unique moments that radiate beauty and pain and
wonderment along the way? Absolutely.
FYI, the picture was released into
theaters twice, once as The Ninth
Configuration and once as Twinkle,
Twinkle Killer Kane. Although it flopped both times, subsequent exhibition on
home video and television has earned the picture well-deserved status as a
minor cult classic.
The
Ninth Configuration: GROOVY
