My dear readers, while the manning of this digital publication is a task that absorbs the vast majority of my waking hours, I will admit that in spite of the demands, I have been able to maintain some of my leisure activities. To provide but one example, I consider myself something of an Egyptologist and though my perspective is merely that of an amateur, I do what precious little I can to further knowledge in the field. For this purpose I recently became the financier of an archeological expedition, one engineered to retrieve the mummified remains of Sanqerty, a servant of Vizier Nefkahor II who was entombed with his master. Some members of the excavation party were quick to mention that Nefkahor doomed all those who pilfered his possessions to a most undesirable fate but I stated rather firmly that unless I am quite mistaken, we are currently living in the 21st century and the notion that one person could be the considered personal property of another has been out of fashion for some time. That certainly seemed to set them straight. There seems to have been something of a hiccup as they are now several weeks delayed and I have not heard from them since they reached the tomb’s entrance. But I suspect communication in the region can be dodgy and that these little complications are to be expected with this sort of undertaking.

Meg Hamilton (Olivia Williams) is also perfectly familiar with the difficulties that arise from antiquarian pursuits. She works in the world of architectural restoration and her latest client absolutely insists that she uproot her entire London-based family to spend half a year living in their assignment -- an expansive Yorkshire Moors country house. This property really allows one to “stretch one’s legs,” so to speak, and restoring it to full Victorian glory requires the work of several skilled laborers. Most people would consider it something of a setback to have their entire team fall victim to a mysterious accident, and would be most discouraged to find that superstition keeps any local workmen at some distance from the estate. But not Meg, oh, no! She is a determined old gal who soldiers on in solitude, taking on the entire renovation herself. 

And once underway, she seems to meet with some success. She discovers secret rooms, Rosicrucianistic soul murals and great stone sacrificial altars -- all the sort of stuff one is bound to find scattered about when no one has done any tidying up. But while Meg is continually undaunted by the character of the house, other family members are having greater difficulty adjusting to pastoral life. Her children are a bit alarmed at the number of spirits they see popping up about the house and her husband Alec (Matthew Modine) is falling under the spell of a malignant presence. Once a sensitive artist, Alec transforms into a growling bully and quickly graduates from non-consensual “blood play” to sexual assault. And even though these discouraging developments do not immediately blunt Meg’s zeal for providing wealthy clientele with posh lodgings, she eventually comes to accept that there may be something peculiar about this particular house.

Ever since William Friedkin introduced The Exorcist (1973) to an eager moviegoing public, the horror genre has been absolutely swamped with the forceful removal of unwanted spirits. And while the sight of a good supernatural expulsion is no less thrilling than it was nearly fifty years ago, it has become somewhat difficult to inject novelty into these proceedings. It is with great pleasure, then, that I am able to report that writer and director Nick Willing has provided an innovative vehicle for exorcism -- falling a short distance. While more traditional representations insist on an awful lot of somber ceremony, stressing the great physical trauma to both the possessed and their liberator, Altar proposes a far less taxing approach. Banishing a parasitic spirit may take little more than knocking the wind out of a fellow. In a sub-genre absolutely saturated with invocations and agonized methodology, it is a refreshingly brisk alternative.

Altar runs 94 minutes and does not possess a certified rating in the United States.