In 2020, I watched a horror film called “Possum”. This doesn’t sound important now, but trust me, it will be.
As someone who appreciates artistry, independent filmmaking, and horror – especially when all 3 are combined into one thing – I’m always searching out obscure cinema to watch and share with others. Some of these are films that, in many aspects I’m sad to say, have been somewhat lost to time. I could easily recommend you a list of oddities that are somewhat tough to find, including films such as “The Dark Backward”, “Closet Land” and “Wilder Napalm”, all of which in one way or another mingle with the horror or thriller genre. Possum was, for reference later, nothing too new. That isn’t to say I didn’t appreciate it on certain levels, but its base concept of utilizing horror to explore trauma or grief is certainly not something that hasn’t been done to death, even in its more minimal state. But we’ll come back to Possum later. I just wanted to open with it because it would be important down the road to back up my argument.
Earlier this year, I watched a cult horror film from Japan titled “House”. Released in 1977, it’s technically a comedy horror from Nobuhiko Obayashi, and stars mostly amateur actors. It’s plot is primarily about a schoolgirl traveling with six classmates to her ailing aunts country home, where they then come face to face with supernatural events and have to fight the house itself as it attempts to devour them. That “comedy” genre, by the way, is a very important part of “House’s” identity, because its wackiness far outweighs its horror, even if its horror is rather horrific. The film, if it took itself seriously, would likely still be a solid piece of work, but the comedy certainly helps it sell an otherwise somewhat ridiculous concept, with, quite frankly, somewhat ridiculous moments.
“House” is, not to be cute, a powerhouse of madness. Don’t for a second think I am talking down about it, because I assure you, I am not. It’s a masterpiece in many ways. But the thing is, for a long while, I wanted to review the film but was unsure how, until last night, when I watched yet another obscure horror film, this one hailing from Germany, and that was 1981’s “Possession”, starring Sam Neill. Suddenly, I had all the context in the world for what I wanted to say about “House” but couldn’t find a way to put into words, and it’s mostly because “Possession” fails at everything “House” did successfully, and not just because they’re different. This may be a somewhat controversial statement, considering “Possession’s” cult status has allowed it to gain a fairly respectable film score and a more favorable view of it in hindsight, but I’m here to tell you how these two movies, released only 4 years apart and from two different countries, oddly mirrored one another, and not in the best of ways.
And I think the best place to start is with “House”, because its ability to pull off the ridiculous only go to prove why “Possession” failed to do the same thing.
I won’t even attempt to beat around the bush, and instead just state outright that in “House” a young schoolgirl is eaten alive by a piano, and it’s a moment of pure cinematic magnificence.
“House” is like watching the Japanese attempt to make a David Lynch movie, but thinking David Lynch movies are comedies. Lynch is a man whose work also heavily straddles the absurd in an almost comical manner, and in fact his arguably most famous film – the simultaneously oppressively dark and oddly hilarious – “Eraserhead” was released the same year as “House”, which makes a lot of sense really. “Eraserhead” is yet another cult horror film that definitely deals with heavy topics such as the anxiety of parenting and death, but in ways nobody else has managed to do so. “House” isn’t nearly as morose, despite also being a horror movie, simply because its comedy is so in your face that you often don’t have time to be mortified at the horror that does take place on screen.
“House” is also interesting as, like I said, most of the people who star in it were amateur actors, and even the director, Nobuhiko Obayashi, was primarily an editor for mainstream television advertisements and created experimental films, often with his own distinct surreal style and anti war themes. These anti war themes are not surprising, considering Obayashi’s father was called to battlefront during World War 2, and as a result, he was raised through early infancy by his maternal grandparents. “House” is an interesting film, in part, because while she didn’t write the screenplay, his own daughter, Chigumi Obayashi, is actually credited with the story of the film. She was only a child when he made the film, and incorporated most of the main concepts within the film, including the main premise of a house that eats people. “House” was, from what it seems, a labor of love from one family in particular. “House” would be his first foray into feature film directing, and he was even the special effects director for the movie.
I think that’s one reason why the film turned out not only as outlandish but also as excellent as it did, because it had a very specific tone from a very specific person. But where “House” succeeded because of these aspects, the other film I want to discuss faltered for the same reasons.
You see, Obayashi incorporated themes of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki into the script, as he was born in Hiroshima and, as a result, lost all his childhood friends from these bombings. It would only make sense that that he would then go on to direct a feature film about the loss of your friends to something you cannot stop. The idea of taking trauma and utilizing it to create great art is nothing new, it’s something that’s been done time and time again, but there is a right way and a wrong way to do this, and thankfully “House” does it the right way. The same cannot be said for “Possession”.
“Possession” would do much of the same thing, and far be it from myself – an artist – to say another artist cannot make something that’s cathartic for themselves, but that defense breaks down when it’s also released for public consumption. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with bewildering works of art, flagrant vagueness and not spoonfeeding an audience. In fact, I’d wager to say that some of the greatest films of all time have benefited by not playing by the rules, and refusing to explain themselves. But there’s an inherent difference between doing such a thing because it’s intentional and doing such a thing because you aren’t sure what you’re trying to say. When a pain is so deep, so real and so raw, that it influences your work, that work also can become muddled with confusion. That’s exactly what happened to “Possession”.
So let’s talk about “Possession”, and how it – despite its fascinating visual effects, surreal aesthetic and expertly crafted sense of dread – managed to make a mess of things.
“Possession” was a horror film, released in 1981 by Andrzej Zulawski, a Polish writer and director.
The film stars Sam Neill and Isabelle Adjani, and was filmed in West Berlin in 1980. The plot, and I say plot with some serious air quotes, follows an international spy and his quickly dissolving marriage to his wife, as she begins behaving erratically. To give the film credit where credit is due, I will first speak of its strengths, of which there are many, even in spite of what I’ve said about it already. The performances given, especially by Adjani, are remarkable to say the least. The soundtrack is unnerving without being annoying, and the special effects, what few there are, are fantastic and deeply offputting. The cinematography leaves a bit to be desired. At times, it can be gorgeous, and other times so very amateurish that you’re amazed the gorgeous scenes that preceded it are in the same film, and the acoustics are terrible. It’s actually extremely hard to tell what anyone is saying at any given point, unless perhaps you watch with subtitles.
But even if those were its main flaws, I’d call it a good film. The reason it isn’t is because those aren’t its main flaws. Its utter lack of cohesiveness and plot are what ultimately drive this experimental drama horror into the realm of maddening, and not for the right reasons. I’m trying to remain factual, and not let my inner critic get the better of me, but it’s very hard. Much like “House”, “Possession” also was heavily inspired by an incident in the directors life.
The screenplay was written during an extremely painful divorce between the director and his then actress wife Malgorzata Braunek. The first hour of the film is, without question, easily the most realistic depiction of a relationship falling apart that has ever been put on camera. As someone who grew up in a home full of screaming and combativeness between her parents, I can say that nothing else has ever been captured on film that was as honest to god as the first hour of “Possession”, when it comes to that topic. Clearly, seeing as how painful this divorce was for Zulawski, he too knew how to put that on screen in a way that rang true.
And the performances really prove that. In fact, Adjani’s performance was so heavy and emotionally exhausting for her, that afterwards she not only required several years to recover from it, but also attempted suicide as a result, and Neill himself said it was the single hardest and most demanding role he’d ever undertaken. I don’t doubt those claims, either. I can see this sort of work taking a toll on peoples psychological well being.
And yet, in spite of all that – and in spite of the film, much like “House”, being inspired by an incident in the life of those who made it – it’s simply too incoherent and messy and, above all else, plainly difficult to enjoy, even as a film critic. While I’m sure the film was oddly therapeutic and cathartic for Zulawski, it’s fairly unintelligible from the outside looking in. Unlike “House”, which reveled in its camp to make light of the horrific events that inspired it, “Possession” decided to be just as uncomfortable as the actual incident that inspired it. And it isn’t even the sort of uncomfortable that one can appreciate, it’s the kind that makes you feel as though you’ve wasted your time.
While there is a story being told in “Possession” that many others have already picked clean in pieces much better than this, about the act of replacing your loved ones with idealized versions of themselves and distrust set against the backdrop of the Cold War, it’s ultimately suffocated in the nonsensical film that surrounds it. Two films, two very similar films in many ways, and yet both reach drastically different conclusions just based on how they were approached from the get go.
“House” was fun, and “Possession” was anything but, and while there’s certainly artistry in the uncomfortable and horrific, and generally something to gain from the experience, all I can say is that “Possession” failed to really make a statement, likely because it never really had one to begin with. It didn’t have a point, it simply had ideas, and much like the marriage portrayed in the film, the film too collapsed in on itself.
It might be a bit obvious to others, but for those who it isn’t, both films have a singular title, but the title for each are not metaphors for what is occurring. “House” is very direct, as it’s quite literally about a house. There’s no underlying theme – near as I can tell – that makes the title mean anything other than what it is. “Possession” on the other hand is certainly capable of being a title that works as a double entendre. Not only is his wife quite literally possessed by something, but Neill’s character is quite possessive himself, of not just his wife but also the image they have cultivated together, and the image he wishes to portray to those outside of a perfect familial unit. It’s very much about possessiveness in all its varying facets, not just the demonic, but also the human.
At the very beginning of this column, I mentioned a film titled “Possum”. This is why.
“Possum” is a 2018 British psychological horror film written & directed by Matthew Holness in his feature film debut. It stars Sean Harris and Alun Armstrong. And, much like “Possession”, it’s a rather bleak and visually cold film centered around a disgraced children’s puppeteer who returns to his childhood home and is forced to confront the abuse and trauma that he suffered as an adolescent at the hands of his stepfather. It premiered at the Edinburgh International Film Festival on June 25th, 2018, where it received mostly positive reviews that praised not just Harris’s performance but also the atmosphere, soundtrack and extremely unsettling imagery.
But “Possum” shares far more with “Possession” than simply its visual aesthetic, concept of trauma as horror and titles that both start with P, because “Possum”, much like “Possession”, deals with the concept of dopplegangers. “Possum” was originally written as a short story by Holness and subsequently published in the horror anthology “The New Uncanny: Tales Of Unease”. According to Holness, the publishers had all the writers read Freud’s theory of the uncanny, pick a fear that appealed and write a story centered around it for a modern audience. The puppet within the film could be considered a doppleganger for Harris’s character, as this is how he sees himself after what he’s been through, and it quite literally haunts him, hiding in the shadows, always ready to strike, as trauma usually does.
For the record, I didn’t particularly like “Possum” either. However, unlike “Possession”, I at least respect it because it tried to do much of the same thing, with much of the same atmosphere and effects, and did it successfully. I can admire a film and still not enjoy it.
While “Possum” was also too sparse for my tastes – which says something considering my favorite film of the past few years was 2017’s “A Ghost Story” from David Lowery – it at least utilized the same feelings, the same low key style and substance to create an ethereal otherworldly feeling of dread and unease. I can appreciate what “Possession” tried to do, but I truly appreciate that “Possum” managed to actually do it. I tried to keep my critic out of this column, I tried to stick to factual arguments, and I think I did a pretty good. In the end, yes, I didn’t really like two out of these 3 films, but I at least can respect their artistic efforts and the fact that they exist, because they’re certainly interesting to discuss. And, in the end, “House” is the clear winner here, because not only is it the most fun of all three, but it managed to explore rather horrific concepts in a fun and engaging way, and is shockingly the most coherent of all the films we’ve discussed here.
The sad thing is that only Holness is the only one who can improve from here.
Obayashi and Zulawski died in 2020 and 2016 respectively, and while they both leave behind a fairly distinguished and lengthy of body of work, we won’t see what they may have done past that. Both men weren’t exactly young at the time of their deaths – Obayashi was 82 and Zulawski was 75 – so they weren’t cut down in their prime or anything. They’re actually fairly respected men in their fields, and while I may not have liked “Possession”, I can’t say I’m not interested in seeing what else Zulawski has done. Holness, however, is still here, and he can only go up from “Possum”, and I’m excited to see where his growth as an artist leads him.
Creating great art out of pain, out of trauma, out of grief, is not something new. I do it myself, as I’m sure many others do, as many have done before me and many will do after. Creating art that confounds most and only works for yourself is also not something new, and I’m all for it. But you have to recognize that if you put your art out there, people will see it, and it should at least be on some level cohesive for them. Sure, they say “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, and that’s fair, but I think we, as artists, owe it to the public to make something even remotely accessible if we’re giving it to the world at large.
“Possession” is very personal, it doesn’t take much to realize that, but it also exists as a film, a film that people will view, and if that’s the case, then I think it should be – if not more accessible – then at the very least more viewable. It’s incoherent plot is only another part of its problem, along with its terrible acoustics and often poor camera work. I recognize the movie has merit, after all it exists which means it was important enough to someone to be made which gives it value, but as a movie goer as well as a critic, it ultimately leaves more of an uncomfortable aftertaste than an enjoyable aftertaste, and that’s never a good feeling to come away with.
This piece, I recognize, is probably more personal than most of the columns I intend to house on the site, but I simply had to talk about this. After all, “Possession” is nothing if not worthy of conversation. After all, I think the overall feeling within the film – of losing someone you love to something you do not understand and cannot control – is a feeling we’ve all likely been through, and that’s a universal glue that we can all unite under. Because underneath the oddities of the film there’s a feeling of not being good enough, for yourself or those around you, in a world that’s rapidly changing, and that’s what film is really about.
That even at our most alien, we aren’t completely misunderstood.
Huh, what do you know, maybe I did appreciate “Possession”.
Hollywouldn't 