Still, I couldn't help thinking there's nothing in Constantine that begins to match the primal chill of Satan's single cry of "Merrin!" when the priest enters the possessed house in The Exorcist.
Doomed to Hell by a childhood suicide attempt (like "The Exorcist," the Constantine mythology is rooted in useful Catholic liturgical precepts), his main concern in life is to somehow get right with God in time to avoid being consigned to the abyss, where his anti-Satanic efforts here on Earth have caused much gnashing of fangs, and his fate would therefore be extra-unpleasant, not to mention endless.
Almost every Catholicism-cloaked supernatural thriller since "The Exorcist" has demonstrated an inherent lack of originality, falling back on the same tiresome genre staples: Possessed young women and tied-to-bed exorcisms, "lost" books of the Bible that allow the screenwriter to invent plot-convenient mythology, and a troubled hero trying to prevent some kind of demonic cross-over into our plane of existence.
When a demon breaks the rules and actually crosses over into our world -- usually in the form of a possession, a la "The Exorcist" -- John "deports" that sucker back to hell, where he belongs.
Where The Exorcist, The Prophecy, and even Kevin Smith’s Dogma have all ventured, Constantine gives the middle finger and delves into darker territory.
Screenwriter Kevin Brodbin's genre-jumping tale of a loner battling demons in contemporary Los Angeles is clearly designed to be the launch of a new franchise that could be a hybrid of "The Exorcist" and "The Matrix" ("The Exotrix," perhaps?), and director Francis Lawrence utilizes lots of sepia tones, low-angle shots and sweaty extreme close-ups in an attempt to give it an uncommon look.