It's what semioticians call a 'structured absence'. We call it a dead giveaway. Never, ever, not once during his feature-length commentary does Paul Schrader utter the words "Renny", "Harlin's", "fucking" and "movie". Still, with less vomit and splatter than Three Men And A Baby, it's not hard to see why Dominion put studio heads in a spin.
As the director freely admits, it's no horror film. Rather, it's an introspective drama of guilt and faith, terminally hamstrung by the fact that the infernal torments of Father Merrin (Stellan Skarsgård) arrive not via the soul but through disastrous special-effects. In the doleful chat-track, Schrader trundles over Making Of anecdotes, techie talk and candid admissions that, at times, he simply didn't have a clue what to do.
More artful, soulful, ambitious and well-intentioned than Harlin's repossession. And, in its own way, equally as unsuccessful.