‘The Devils’: Vintage banned movie sets box offices on fire

The Devils has returned to theaters after more than fifty years, and audiences are turning up in numbers that surprised everyone involved in the rollout. Warner Bros. Clockwork booked the restored 4K director’s cut for a one-week run in roughly 350 screens, yet the film cleared $1.7 million and posted nearly five thousand dollars per screen, prompting an extension. The NC-17 rating did not keep seats empty; it may have helped turn the screenings into a limited event.

Restoration details

The version now playing is the first public presentation of Ken Russell’s intended cut since the original negative was trimmed for distribution in 1971. Footage long available only in bootlegs has been reinstated from the camera negative, restoring sequences that censors removed for blasphemy and explicit content.

Mark Kermode, who tracked down missing reels for years, called the result “no longer damaged goods.” The BFI, which supervised the project, premiered the restoration at Cannes Classics before handing it to Clockwork for commercial release.

The runtime lands at 114 minutes, and the MPAA assigned the NC-17 without cuts, confirming that the complete vision remains intact.

Original reception

In 1971 the film opened to an X rating in both the United States and Britain, and seventeen British local councils banned it outright. The most notorious sequence, later labeled “the Rape of Christ,” showed nuns writhing on a crucifix while a skeletal figure mimed sexual assault; censors considered it too blasphemous for any audience.

Russell described the picture as his only overtly political work, an attack on the collusion of church and state. The production design by Derek Jarman and the score by Peter Maxwell Davies added to the feverish tone that reviewers at the time found either visionary or grotesque.

Vanessa Redgrave and Oliver Reed anchored the cast as the afflicted nun and the libertine priest caught in Richelieu’s power play, performances that have aged better than the surrounding controversy.

Current box office

Clockwork’s limited release opened on a Thursday, and by Saturday night several major markets reported sold-out shows. Multiplexes that rarely program NC-17 titles found themselves fielding calls from younger viewers who had read about the restoration on social platforms.

The per-screen average of $4,925 placed the film ahead of several wide releases that weekend, an outcome few distributors predicted. The one-week booking quickly became two, then three, as word spread that the uncut print would not return for the foreseeable future.

Industry trackers noted that arthouse circuits and mainstream chains posted similar numbers, suggesting the audience split between longtime cult followers and first-time viewers drawn by the restored footage.

Why the timing works

The film’s central plot, a state official weaponizing sexual hysteria to eliminate a political rival, echoes current debates over institutional power and performative morality. Audiences arriving after the pandemic appear more willing to sit with the material’s discomfort.

Marketing leaned into the “lost for fifty years” angle rather than soft-pedaling the rating, a strategy that turned the NC-17 into a selling point instead of a deterrent.

Warner Bros. Clockwork also coordinated with local film societies to host post-screening discussions, giving first-time viewers context without diluting the shock value of the restored scenes.

Cast and craft

Redgrave’s performance as Sister Jeanne remains the film’s still center, a study in repressed desire that erupts into public accusation. Reed plays Father Grandier as a man whose personal appetites make him an easy target for Richelieu’s campaign.

Jarman’s sets, built on a soundstage at Pinewood, favor stark angles and saturated color that keep the action from settling into period nostalgia. Maxwell Davies’s choral score functions like another character, pushing the hysteria forward without dialogue.

The restored footage clarifies several narrative beats that had been trimmed to the point of incoherence, particularly the sequence in which Grandier’s execution is staged as public spectacle.

Critical response

Reviewers who caught the Cannes premiere noted that the additional footage does not soften the film’s edges; it sharpens them. The added scenes of torture and confession make the political machinery more explicit without turning the picture into a lecture.

Rotten Tomatoes logged a fresh score within days, though several critics warned that the intensity remains undiminished. Audience scores skewed higher among viewers under thirty, many of whom cited the film’s relevance to present-day culture wars.

Kermode’s long advocacy helped shape the narrative around reclamation rather than simple shock value, giving the re-release a critical frame that 1971 coverage lacked.

Distribution strategy

Clockwork booked the film into a mix of arthouse venues and multiplexes in secondary markets, betting that curiosity would overcome the rating. The strategy paid off in cities where the picture had never screened uncut.

Digital rights remain with the BFI for the moment, so the theatrical window is the only legal way to see the full restoration. That scarcity helped drive the opening numbers and the decision to extend the run.

International rollout begins next month in territories that originally banned the film, with similar limited engagements planned in France, Italy, and Japan.

Cultural ripple

The re-release arrives alongside a documentary by Russell’s son Rupert that examines the director’s later years and the repeated attempts to suppress the negative. Early footage suggests the film will position The Devils as the hinge between Russell’s pop-art phase and his later, more openly confrontational work.

Online, clips of the restored sequences circulate with the original X-rated warning card attached, turning the old censorship label into a badge of authenticity. The meme cycle has introduced the title to viewers who might otherwise have ignored a 1971 British drama.

Film schools have added the picture to spring curricula, citing both its formal daring and its utility as a case study in state censorship of art.

What happens next

The extended run proves that an NC-17 title with historical baggage can still generate mainstream interest when the restoration supplies a clear reason to return. Clockwork is already discussing a possible 4K disc release timed to the documentary premiere.

For distributors watching the numbers, the takeaway is straightforward: scarcity and controversy can still sell tickets if the print itself justifies the fuss. The Devils has waited half a century to make that point without apology.