Possession

Zulawski made an exorcism into a film. Possession is what happens when a woman’s insides—her guilt, shame, rage, repression, and desire—finally refuse to be polite.  Adjani is otherworldly. Her performance is a full body purge. The subway was basically a spiritual miscarriage. And she isn’t losing a baby—she’s expelling the poison of being a woman in a world that wants her to be pure, obedient, or dead. I don’t think I’ve quite ever witnessed such a powerful and haunting performance. Every time I’ve ever said, “that’s the greatest performance I’ve ever seen”, does not amount to Adjani’s performance.  The monster is clearly not just a thing she fucks, but instead, it’s a god she births. It’s a vessel for her trauma, her pleasure, and her ideal man—one that doesn’t cheat, talk, or fail. It’s the one thing that can carry what she can’t anymore.  Catholic guilt haunts the entire film. The film bleeds repression. Female sexuality is demonised (literally), desire is a sin, and Anna is caught in a loop of punishment. And instead of submitting, she simply creates her own salvation. Out of slime. Out of screams. Out of a thing that crawls out of the shadows and becomes her EVERYTHING.  The style of the film is simply perfect. Claustrophobic shots, bruised colour palettes, grotesque camera movements. The film literally shakes with the force of its own emotional violence. Possession isn’t horror. It’s divine madness. It’s art. It’s a nervous breakdown filmed through the eye of god and sex. — This review is kinda all over the place. But it felt right to just let it spill out.