Possession (1981) | CLASSIC REVIEW

Isabelle Adjani as ‘Anna’ in the famous/infamous subway scene in Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession.

Directed by Andrzej Żuławski — Screenplay by Andrzej Żuławski.

Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession is the kind of European horror feature whose reputation precedes it. A highly regarded Cannes award-winning film, Possession is a film that, before I finally watched it, had been on my watchlist for quite some time. I had seen stills and clips from it beforehand, all of which indicated to me that this was a special film whose impact was felt in several films that came after it. When I finally saw it, I was somewhat overwhelmed by it, and I mean that in a good way. Below you’ll see my initial reaction to the film, with which I do discuss elements of the film quite openly, so if you have yet to see it, then tread carefully.

Possession tells the story of a husband, Mark (played by Sam Neill), and a wife, Anna (played by Isabelle Adjani). When the husband returns home from an extended stay away, his wife insists that she wants to separate and end their time together. She has found someone else, and when Mark finds this out, he sends a private investigator to follow the mother of his child. What that private investigator finds is truly disturbing, and it turns out Anna has more to hide than your average divorcee. Meanwhile, Mark encounters another woman, Helen, who looks exactly like his wife.

A film about a marriage falling apart and being divided set right next to the Berlin Wall is, honestly, really smart storytelling (and the eerie emptiness of the city adds a great deal here). It also helps to make this such a fascinating film to analyze. The film’s whole ‘perfect-doppelgänger-replacing-the-original-version’ idea feels like it’s a commentary on countries, or territories, that had been apart (divided by the wall) coming back together and becoming either something more idealized, pristine, perfect, or something dangerous, destructive, alien, and inauthentic. Whether that’s meant to be Germany, Poland, or whatever, I’m not sure. But that’s one of the things it immediately made me think about as it had ended.

It’s essentially Kramer vs Kramer meets Rosemary’s Baby meets David Cronenberg through a Cold War lens. I was also reminded of Aronofsky’s mother!, Lars von Trier’s Antichrist and Guadagnino’s Suspiria remake. It’s a film about divorce, the madness being ‘cheated on’ can do to you, the guilt you feel for breaking up when you have a child together, the effects of neglecting your family and your child, the thoughts you conjure up in your head about the partner who let you down, and the complicated desire of wanting the normalcy of the partner who you once had such a love for (and still do, to an extent) and then the allure of wanting someone else — someone better — can feel like.

I must mention the famous/infamous scene set in the tunnels of a subway station because the subway scene is simply extraordinary. Here we see Isabelle Adjani’s character flail about and look absolutely mad. The placement of this scene in the film is interesting, and the scene itself is the standout sequence of the entire film. It’s a knock-out. A triumph. It’s one of the most physically intense scenes of pure and utter madness I’ve ever seen someone be put through. It looks exhausting, it’s jaw-dropping. It’s a mindfuck with how it looks like Anna’s oozing white liquid and blood out of her. It’s batshit and impressive at the same time. Isabelle Adjani deserves all of the awards that you could possibly throw her way for what she puts herself through here and what she gives back. 

There are undeniably comedic moments, and I think there are certainly elements here that are deliberately turning the dial to more than the max volume of ten, so to speak (some actors push it higher than even eleven — to mixed effects). Is there overacting? Yeah, probably (also a lot of screaming that can get tiring to listen to). But it works for the insanity of breakups, especially violent ones. Adjani is note-perfect in her genuinely concerningly effective creepy physical performance, with eyes that can look straight into your soul. She is overpowering. Oh, and the first time you see ‘the thing’ is genuinely one of the most unsettlingly surprising WTF-moments I’ve ever had with a film. 

Possession is creepy, deranged, comedic, and confusing. I do think it’s more of an art film about a separation’s chaotic descent into loss of self than a straight-faced and accessible horror film, so it isn’t for everyone, but I thought this was really fascinating in all the right ways.

8.5 out of 10

– Review Written by Jeffrey Rex Bertelsen.

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