Exorcistic: The Rock Musical
Written by Michael Shaw Fisher; Directed by Alli Miller and Chadd McMillan
The Asylum NYC | 123 East 24th St, NY, NY 10010
Opens September 8th
Photo Credit: David Haverty
Sitting at the edge of a thrust stage, with smoke curling up from beneath the platform and heavy metal covers blaring through the house speakers, I knew Exorcistic wasn’t going to be a straightforward retelling of The Exorcist. What I got was the unholiest of the unholy: a chaotic, hilarious, and surprisingly thoughtful rock parody that leaned all the way into meta-theatre.
The Exorcist remains one of the scariest films I’ve ever seen, but what makes it endure isn’t just the horror. It is the way it explores faith, doubt, and the battle between good and evil. Exorcistic reframes that story, not by retelling it directly, but by parodying the very act of creating a musical about it. It asks: where does the possession begin, and does it ever end? How are we surviving in this state of the interpretation of evil?
The show begins with a weary stage manager (Jaime Lyn Beatty) setting up rehearsal for a 29-Hour Reading. Soon, the rehearsal dissolves into performance, and then into something else entirely, as the possession of the lead, Regan, or rather Megan (Emma Hunton), derails the trajectory of the play. Along the way, the cast commits fully to a whirlwind of theatrical devices: mask work, breaking the fourth wall, projections, the “anatomy of a scene,” and a wild mashup of rehearsal, staged reading, and commercial production. At some point, a guest star appears to save the day and the production, raising the ante of absurdity. At my performance, the role was filled by Garrett Clayton (Teen Beach, Hairspray Live).
The music is fun, infectious, and invites you to join in like a concert. Songs like “The Jesuit Blues,” “Movie Star With a F*cked Up Kid,” and “Make Peace With Your Demons” pull you into the maelstrom. The performers deliver with unhinged commitment, embracing the comedy, the chaos, and the sexuality. Minimal set pieces keep the focus on the actors, while projections heighten the sense of being inside both a rehearsal room and a demonic nightmare.
The company worked as a true ensemble, passing the spotlight fluidly and keeping the momentum alive. Emma Hunton, as Megan O’Neill, anchors the piece with powerhouse vocals and a grounding presence amidst the madness. She is matched by Ethan Crystal (Father Garras), Jesse Merlin (Father Barren/Hypnotist), Steven Cutts (Rowdy/Father Pryor), Leigh Wulff (Kate O’Neill), Jaime Lyn Beatty (Stage Manager/Garras’ Mother), and Richardson Cisneros-Jones (Durke Bennings/Detective Linderman). Together they form a fierce, fearless ensemble with roaring voices and comedic timing that cross every line to bring the insanity to life.
At its heart, Exorcistic is not just poking fun at a horror classic. It is asking what it means to make theatre at all. The parody framework gives the artists room to ask serious questions through absurdity: what happens when performance collides with possession, when structure meets disorder, when rehearsal becomes ritual?
The show works best when you stop trying to follow every beat and instead surrender to the ride. It becomes less a parody of The Exorcist and more an anatomy of a production, exposing the bones of theatre-making while reveling in its own glorious mess.
Created by writer Michael Shaw Fisher, Exorcistic belongs to the lineage of The Play That Goes Wrong and The Office: A Parody, yet it pushes further into anarchy and self-awareness. With choreography by Camal Pugh, direction by Alli Miller and Chadd McMillan, and a powerhouse band led by Zach Spound on keys (with Jared Decker on drums, Matt Patton on guitar, and Andrew Dow on bass), the show thrashes forward like a rock concert possessed.
In the end, Exorcistic is meta to the nth degree: demonic chaos fused with live music and relentless parody. It is not about following the story, it is about letting yourself be overtaken by the theatrical possession itself.
Click HERE for tickets.
Review by Malini Singh McDonald.
Published by Theatre Beyond Broadway on September 8, 2025. All rights reserved.