The kids especially, several of whom lay in an orchestra aisle near my seat and smoked and talked about basketball during those sections of the film in which the tormented child on screen was not vomiting bile at the priests, masturbating with a crucifix, screaming obscenities about the young priest's dead mother, or, for fun, turning her head 180 degrees to the rear. ![]() The film, playing locally at the Cinema I, is the biggest thing to hit the industry since Mary Pickford, popcorn, pornography and “The Godfather.” When I dropped into the Cinema I the other weekday morning at the first showing of the day, it was apparent that here was a movie a lot of people wanted to see, including old ladies, single men with brief cases, loving couples and teen‐age kids (seemingly with and without parents). When it was released in 1973, I was too young to see it but was so disappointed when I finally did.
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