Possession (1981)

"From now on she'll know how much righteous anger and sheer will she's got in her to say: 'I, I can do as well, I can be better! I'm the best!' Only in this case can she become a success. Nobody taught me that. That's why I'm with you. Because you say 'I' for me."

    connection, loneliness, the vulgarity of a human rejected, the vulgarity of a human emotionally imprisoned. possession is flourishing with complexity, as stylistically exhilarating as it is viciously emotional. a dark, sinister, and bitter psychological film that blends the jagged, synthy, grimy, practical effect heavy style of 80's horror with an eye for inventive arthouse storytelling.

but first! here's the deathfart obligatory feminist analysis block!

    possession is an excellent film made by a less then eloquent man, which i say from the perspective of watching the full film into watching the director's commentary. however, my appraisal of this film remains afloat on this one quote from andrzej żuławski:

I try to make films about morals but without morality because I don't believe in preaching... some of my Polish colleagues are making (films) like that saying "this is good, this is wrong, this you should do, this you shouldn't". I don't believe that. If you point your finger to a moral dilemma, if the audience is not totally stupid, they will draw their own conclusions. They will say what's useful to them.

    if you've read my article on citizen kane, you'll understand how crucial a film's perspective on women can be to my overall enjoyment of the story. with the microcosmic patriarchy that is the film industry, the objectifying or discriminating depiction of women is a frequent barricade to me enjoying maybe like 90% of critically acclaimed pictures. with possession, you have a recipe for much of the same. a man director treats his female actors like garbage and makes a tantrum-filled emotionally explosive film about his relationship with his freshly divorced ex-wife and women in general. yet, żuławski isn't your typical charlie kaufman (at least not in regards to his work, i'm sure if i met the guy it'd be a different story).

I'm a strong believer in couples, in marriages, in children... most of the scenes that are taking place between the man and the woman are picked out of my life, even the dialog. But, I wrote the film not to be complacent with myself.

    the last line żuławski relays here seems like it would be ham-fisted, but i believe it to be true and successfully executed. both mark (the husband) and anna (the wife) are equally deplorable and selfish people in this picture. in fact, i find myself sympathizing with anna through most of the film despite us following mark for the majority. and yes, there's a lot of stories that are told where its like "oh everyone's a terrible person and that's the point" and its true that they suck more often than not. it feels like a totally destructive and worthless approach to storytelling, it's often a recipe for a film that can relish in the aesthetics of being an asshole while flippantly claiming some sort of half-baked dismissal of said behavior.
    possession, to me, circumvents this. this will be very anecdotal of my own interpretation of the film, but i cite the first żuławski quote as a means of validating my interpretation. possession is very much a detached journey into the minds of a couple who are very clearly terrible fucking people in their own way, that much is made clear of them right from the start. i think the film does a great job at never insisting that you sympathize with either of them for the sake of its point, only that you reflect on their downfalls through the very symbolic and visually rich storytelling.

anna (left), helen (right)

    you might cite that mark's relationship with helen is the closest thing to an answer to the madness that the film provides. helen is this lovely, domesticated woman, the most frustrating cliche of any misogynist film. but i don't see helen as a refuge or a reward for mark, but rather a symbol of mark's own perpetual, selfish escape from his own flaws through the women in his life. given the fact that helen is, you know, a suspiciously idyllic anna doppelganger (played by the same actor), i see helen as being the embodiment of mark's view of each woman as an identical, disposable replacement of the last, he look at women not as individuals but as something to fill a role in his life. helen is consistently artificial throughout the movie, a two-dimensional stand in compared to the ever complex anna. i don't think the film shows us the Real Helen, i think we only see helen through mark's eyes: we see his own living misogyny.

this has been the deathfart obligatory feminist analysis block!

    ok, there's my obligatory feminist takes, what of the rest of the film? it's fan-fucking-tastic!

    the pounding synth soundtrack sets the tone perfectly for this fuckin' grimy, depraved wasteland (endearing). the practical effects fucking rock, totally disgusting and freaky, the coloring and visual subjects of the film are enthralling, the dark humor is hysterical and benefits the ridiculously dramatic style, and the dialog hits the sweet-spot of being not too pretentious but just pretentious enough to where lines of dialoge can simultaneously hit hard thematically and be comically badass.

HEINRICH: There's nothing to fear except God. Whatever that means to you.

MARK: For me, God is a disease.

HEINRICH: That's why through the disease, we can reach God.

    it manages to be powerful, complex, and fucking stupid all at the same time and all these qualities harmoniously elevate the whole film.
    this isn't to say the film isn't without straight-up emotionally gripping moments, in fact i would say that's the bulk of the film. the subway scene and the ballet scene most famously, but also the spiral staircase scene at the end and anna's cryptic monologue about sister faith and sister chance. the blending of humor, surrealist absurdity, and unbridled raw catharsis is fucking perfect, it's unbelievable. one could not exist without the other and everything adds up to the intricately measured insanity that makes possession an ever-memorable film that brings you back constantly, constantly luring you in to understand all it's thematic complexities as you bathe in the glorious stylish hellscape.

    i can totally understand if it isn't your thing, it's very in-your-face and unforgivingly over the top. if it's schlocky to some or trying too hard, i get that. i think the visceral impact of some of the rawer scenes have certainly worn on me over the years, but hell if they aren't still cool as fuck. i find it to be a brilliant, wild ride and i always discover something new whevever i watch it. also the spies are gay and that's cute :)

FINAL SCORE:

9 / 10