The Ninth Gate (1999)

Johnny Depp finds Beelzebub at Books-A-Million!

The Ninth Gate (1999)
Directed by Roman Polanski
Written by John Brownjohn, Enrique Urbizu, and Polanski; based on the novel by Arturo Pérez-Reverte

Meet Johnny Depp, Rare Book Mercenary—a cross between Paladin, Indiana Jones, and Mrs. Gildersleeve who ran the Bookmobile in elementary school. Book collector Frank Langella wants Johnny to authenticate a volume he bought from the guy who killed himself before the opening credits. This tome, The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of the Shadows, was published in 1666 (get it?), and led to the burning at the stake of one Aristide Torchia. It seems that Torquemada objected to Torchia co-authoring books with Satan, considering it blasphemy, since Satan’s only sanctioned role in literature is as an agent.

But this does bring up the question of how they worked out the billing... Alphabetically? (By Beelzebub and Torchia.) Maybe it was “By Satan with Aristide Torchia” (after all, whose name on the cover is gonna sell more books?) Or maybe it was the standard celebrity kind of arrangement: “By Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, as Told to Aristide Torchia.”

Anyway, there are only three copies of the book, and Frank wants Johnny to compare his to the other two, because the genuine article can summon up the devil.

Lena Olin, widow of the book’s former owner, shows up at Johnny’s place and asks to buy the book back. When Johnny refuses, she puts her hand on his crotch and her tongue down his throat. Johnny is puzzled—is she coming on to him? As she strips for action, we notice a tattoo of a snake on her butt. Since Johnny is dealing with occult disciples and satanic arcana, this is obviously a significant clue, and Johnny quickly deduces that she’s a herpetologist.

When the book fails to turn up during sex, Lena pulls Johnny’s hair and bites him, fighting techniques she apparently learned on the playground from one of Roman’s previous girlfriends.

Next, Johnny goes to see the elderly identical twins who sold the book to the dead guy. The monozygotic bibliophiles point out that three of the nine engravings in the book were signed by Torchia’s co-author, Lucifer. Johnny is skeptical, recalling how he was duped by that fake Mephistopheles Diary (“Dear Diary, Today I tricked that bimbo Eve into going off her diet. Boy, is God going to be pissed, because his only rule was ‘No Fat Chicks!’”)

But Johnny heads off to Portugal to examine the second copy of the book, which is found to contain three different engravings signed by Lucifer. Apparently, this is some kind of McDonald’s contest, where you have to collect all nine game pieces to win a Quarter Pounder. The next day he finds the owner of the second book drowned and his engravings gone! Somebody else is obviously after the free fries, and is willing to kill to get them!

Johnny then travels to Paris to see Baroness Kessler, owner of the third book. She turns out to be a sharp old gal who provides valuable exposition, for which we will always bless her, even if she is a staunch fundamentalist devil worshipper who doesn’t hold with Ernest Borgnine’s liberalization of church doctrine. She explains that after the death of Torchia, his followers formed a group called The Silver Serpent Secret Friends (or something like that). However, the sect has degenerated into a club for bored billionaires who need excuses to dress up in black robes and have orgies. The Baroness used to be a member, but when she was chosen last for orgying she took her book and went home. Lina, current leader of Satan’s Serpents, wants a copy of the book to use at the annual gathering where they try to summon Satan. (“The agenda for our meeting on the 12th includes a reading of last year’s minutes, a semiformal orgy, and the raising of Lucifer, followed by punch and cookies in the fellowship hall.”)

Leaving the Baroness’s, Johnny is menaced by a scary guy, but saved by Emmanuelle Seigner, wife of the director. She not only demonstrates her slo-mo martial arts moves, but also flies, suggesting she’s either bionic or demonic, take your pick. About now I’d be suspicious, if I were Johnny. But then, if I were Johnny, I wouldn’t have done Nick of Time or The Astronaut’s Wife either.

Johnny wanders around France until he finds Frank Langella at a tower pictured in the book, the nine engravings spread out before him. Frank announces that he’s solved the puzzle (it’s apparently some sort of satanic Where’s Waldo?), and so he will become the equal to God (which, as countless mad scientists have proven, means ignominious death in the next five minutes). Frank intones the rebus prayer to the devil derived from the engravings, brags about having power over all things, and lights himself on fire to demonstrate that he feels no pain. Um, big mistake. Johnny eventually puts the shrieking Demonic Torch out of its misery, grabs the engravings, and runs outside. Emmanuelle appears beside him, and is suddenly nude; they make love to the background of the burning building and the odor of charred Frank Langella.

Emmanuelle reveals that the ritual didn’t work for Frank because the ninth engraving was a forgery. She disappears, leaving behind a note saying that the real engraving is at the twin booksellers’ shop. Johnny goes there and the engraving eerily falls into his hands. It shows Emmanuelle riding a three-headed dragon in front of the ruined tower at dawn. Johnny returns to the tower. The sun comes up. The screen turns white.

The End.

“NO FAIR!” I hear you shouting. “What in tarnation happened?”

Well, since you asked so nicely, let me explain my theory.

Johnny had collected all nine authentic satanic engravings; he had solved the riddle. (Just be glad this movie wasn’t a hit, or kids would have been giving up Pokemon cards and spending all their time trading and collecting 17th Century engravings: “Get the whole set! Impress your friends! Devour your enemies!”) He had summoned Old Scratch, who was presumably the spooky chick, so the judges at Price-Waterhouse determined that he had complied with all the rules set forth by the State Attorney General, and was legally entitled to the Grand Prize of omnipotence. And once he was omnipotent, he got the hell out of this stupid movie and started a new life as...I don’t know, Rosemary’s Cry-Baby. The End.

Yes, The Ninth Gate: a powerful story about the dangers of entering promotions sponsored by Satan. I hope you’ll think differently about Ed McMahon after what you’ve seen today.

But the movie is also a cautionary tale about cursed books, and how you should probably try to avoid them. The best way to do this is to resist signing up for the Cursed Book Club, despite the two free volumes. As you may recall, there have been several other cases where demonic texts brought suffering to innocent people, such as The Necronomicon of Abdul Alhazred. While we don’t blame it for what happened in Re-Animator, we do hold it culpable for all those nerds who keep blathering about Yog-Sothoth, and how after Cthulhu returns the cheerleaders will be sorry they wouldn’t go out with them. And of course, there are many other tomes whose very names strike dread in the hearts of the innocent: Unaussprechlichen Kulten by Friedrich von Junzt; De Vermis Mysteriis by Ludvig Prinn; and Melania, by Melania Trump. We advise you to stay well away from these damned books, for the sake of your very soul!

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