31 Days of Fright: It Follows

Photo that accurately depicts what I was *told* happens in the Church of Scientology.

Photo that accurately depicts what I was *told* happens in the Church of Scientology.

This January, in support of the Toronto Rape Crisis Centre / Multicultural Women Against Rape, friends and family have raised over $1,000, which means I have to watch and write about thirty-one horror movies. I’ll watch (on average) one movie a night, many of them requested by donors, after which I’ll write some things about said movies on this website. Be forewarned that all such write-ups will contain spoilers! Last night, I watched the only horror movie this month that I’d seen once before: the impressive It Follows, directed by David Robert Mitchell (The Myth of the American Sleepover). Good friend Marielle Pawson donated a generous amount to this fundraiser on behalf of her mother. I previously watched The Exorcist III on her mother’s behalf, but Marielle’s real wish was to watch It Follows with friends. See, Marielle was really curious about last year’s indie hit It Follows, but was afraid to watch it on her own. A joint screening with Marielle and Meg was arranged. I rented a copy of It Follows from my friends at Queen Video, who were very excited about my rental.

What happens:

It Follows, which – spoiler alert – is one of the better new horror movies I’ve seen in years, opens with some spooky Carpenter-esque music and a quiet suburban American street. (We find out later this is set in the suburbs of Detroit.) A teenage girls runs out of a house in her pyjamas and heels, looking haunted. The neighbour loading groceries asks if she needs help, which she refuses. Then her dad goes to the door and asks what the matter is. She again says she’s fine, and runs back into her house. A few seconds later, however, she rushes back out of the house, into her car, and speeds off. When we next see her, she’s at the beach in the dead of night, seated with her back to the water. The headlights of the car illuminate her as she calls her dad on a cell phone, expresses her love for him, then apologizes for being a brat sometimes.

The film smash cuts to the beach on the morning. The girl is now dead, her leg broken backward and body contorted in a disturbing manner.

We are then introduced to our protagonist, college-aged Jay (Maika Monroe), who lounges in the aboveground pool at her parents’ home. Her sister, Kelly (Lili Sepe), arrives home, and calls Jay inside. Kelly watches some ’50s B-movies with their family friends: the slightly awkward Paul (Keir Gilchrist), and bespectacled Yara (Olivia Luccardi), who always seems to have her nose in her clamshell-shaped e-reader. She’s reading Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot, but has yet to determine if it’s any good. (Stay tuned, literature fans!) Jay goes upstairs to prepare for her date with a new guy she’s been seeing, Hugh (Jake Weary).

Jay goes to the movies with Hugh, who looks a bit like a dime-store Pacey from Dawson’s Creek. While waiting in line, she tells him about “the trade game” she used to play with her sister, where you choose one person in a crowd you’d like to trade places with, and other people have to try to guess who you chose. When they play, Jay is perplexed by Hugh’s choice, a small boy at the movies with his parents. Hugh looks wistful and expresses envy that the boy has his whole life ahead of him. “You’re only twenty-one,” Jay says. Taking their seats, Hugh tries to guess her choice. “The girl in the yellow dress?” he guesses. But Jay has no idea who he’s talking about; she can’t see any girl in a yellow dress. Hugh makes them leave the theatre immediately, saying he feels ill and needs to be outside. Jay, however, worries he spotted a past girlfriend.

The real question is which of the couple's lives does the marquee's title refer to?

The real question is which of the couple’s lives does the marquee’s title refer to?

Kelly and Jay walk through their neighbourhood, talking about Hugh, and we learn that Jay and Hugh have yet to sleep together. Across the street from Jay and Kelly’s house, we see local cool dude Greg (Daniel Zovatto), a Jeremy London type washing his car in his driveway. Hugh and Jay go on another date, taking some beer to the water, then adjoining to his car’s backseat to make love for the first time in an abandoned parking lot. Afterwards, Hugh goes to his trunk while Jay spreads out on the backseat and reminisces about what her concept of dating was like when she was younger. Hugh then slides up behind Jay and presses a chloroformed cloth to her face, rendering her unconscious. (The rendering takes way longer than almost any other movie featuring chloroform, so I’m going to assume it’s more realistic.)

Jay wakes up bound to a wheelchair that’s been placed in an abandoned aboveground parking garage. Hugh appears behind her and apologizes, assuring her he won’t hurt her. That’s the good news. The bad news is that he’s “given” her something – something someone gave to him through sex and now he’s given it to her. A thing will follow her, and it could look like anyone – someone she knows well or a total stranger. “Sometimes I think it looks like people you love, just to hurt you,” he says. Hugh sees something approaching, so he wheels Jay in her chair to the edge of the garage, where they can see a naked woman slowly climbing up the hill. This, he hopes, will demonstrate that what he is saying is true. Hugh advises Jay sleep with someone as soon as possible to pass it along. For if she is killed by the thing, it will come for him next, then all the way down the line. He offers some advice on avoiding it: never enter a room with only one exit. “It’s very slow, but it’s not dumb.”

Jay, in the halcyon days before she'd ever heard of "it."

Jay, in the halcyon days before she’d ever heard of “it.”

Kelly, Paul, and Yara are busy playing cards on Kelly’s front porch when Hugh’s car rolls up, dumping her in her underpants on the curb, then drives off. (Hugh could have at least given her clothes back!) Greg and his mom see the police situation that unfolds across the street and wonder about Jay’s family. “Those people are such a mess,” his mom says. The police interview Jay to get her information about this consensual, but bizarre sexual encounter that, legally, they can do very little about. Jay is depressed for a few days later, spending much of her time in bed, inspecting her body in the bathroom mirror – she doesn’t look infected, but she feels it. During one of Jay’s college English classes (in which they’re studying “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock“), an old woman slowly crosses the campus outside. As she begins to approach the window, Jay hastily leaves class. The old woman pursues her through the hallway and Jay runs to her car to drive away. Realizing that Hugh wasn’t just messing with her head, Jay finds her sister Kelly and friend Paul where they work at the local ice cream store to talk about her unusual condition.

In the ice cream stock room, the three young adults discuss whether what Hugh told Jay was real. Jay tells them about the old woman in her pyjamas, but Kelly is still convinced Hugh was lying. However, they make a plan to all sleep over at Jay’s, with Paul (who is obviously madly in love with Jay) staying downstairs on the couch as guard. During the sleepover, Jay has trouble sleeping, so visits Paul, watching B-movies downstairs. They reminisce about past sleepovers when they were much younger, and about the time the four of them found a stash of pornographic magazines, then brazenly read them while lounging on Greg’s front lawn, not realizing what they were doing. The window in the kitchen shatters and Paul runs to investigate. He returns to say the window has been broken, but whoever broke it must have fled. Paul leaves to find Kelly, and as soon as he does, Jay begins to hear a banging in the other room. Unwisely, she enters the kitchen to see a young woman, topless, only one sock on, who is peeing herself and creeping toward her. It’s following her again!

Jay races upstairs and locks herself in the bedroom. Kelly and Paul knock at the door, asking to be let in, assuring her there’s nothing outside. She lets them in and Jay begins to break down: “There’s something wrong with me.” Someone begins to try the doorknob of the bedroom, so Paul grabs a nearby broom as a weapon. Yara identifies herself from the other side of the door, but when they allow her in, a tall man walks in right behind her. (Clearly, only the infected can see the followers.) Jay screams and flees out the bedroom window. She descends from a ledge and takes her bicycle through the night, ending her journey in a creepy playground. Eventually, her friends find her on the swings in the darkened playground. Greg shows up, too, having overheard the broken window and ensuing ruckus across the street. Jay decides she needs to find Hugh and get some answers, so Greg offers to drive them.

The five arrive at a boarded-up house, apparently the address Hugh have Jay. Inside, they find homemade alarm systems of tin cans and a wealth of medications. In the attic, Paul and Jay find the mattress where he slept, along with a wealth of porno mags and balled-up Kleenex (which he didn’t even bother to throw away). Leafing through a copy of Playpen, Paul finds a photo of Hugh in his letterman jacket, which identifies him as a former student of Dawson High School. Someone there must know his real name! Jay and Greg speak to someone in the school’s office and return to the car with his real name: “Jeff.” They find his house fairly easily and have a very calm chat with him.

Greg and Jay enjoy a soda while discussing the unrelenting demon following her.

Greg and Jay enjoy a soda while discussing the unrelenting demon following her.

While they’re all seated on his lawn, Jeff (formerly Hugh) tries to detail further how to handle this thing that follows you – he says he got if from a one-night stand (he thinks), and the only way to be rid of it is to pass it along. “Should be easy for you,” he says. “You’re a girl.” How Hugh knows so much about this thing, despite not clearly knowing how he contracted it from, is beyond me. A soccer player walks up to their group and Jeff is spooked, but it turns out to be an actual person. He says that Jay and he shouldn’t be in such close proximity. Greg comes up with an idea: to stay at his family’s cottage, situated in a more remote area. As they drove out to the sticks, Marielle, Meg, and I devised various plans as to how we would attempt to forestall “it.” (See the Takeaway Points below for more on that.)

At the cottage, Greg finds his dad’s gun in the boathouse and they begin to practice with it. They have a morose beach party during which no one is entirely able to speak. Greg runs off to urinate while Yara lounges in the water in an innertube. But, strangely, Yara also appears to be walking towards them from the woods. Before any of them can realize what’s happening, they see Jay’s hair being pulled up into the air. Jay is then thrown to the ground. Paul picks up a beach chair and swings it at where the invisible assailant is, but the thing knocks him back. Jay, Kelly, Paul, and Yara run to the boathouse, pursued by the thing. Jay scrambles for the hidden gun. Paul, meanwhile, inspects his body where the thing touched him, and it’s covered in a hand-shaped bruise. As the thing approaches the doorway, Jay fires the gun, nearly shooting Greg in the distance, but then hits it square in the forehead. But the entity lifts itself up after a second and continues to follow. They lock the boathouse door.

The thing bangs at the door, eventually smashing a hole in the bottom. Greg yells at them from the outside, overly concerned about what they’ve done to the door. (He cannot see the thing causing the damage, naturally.) Jay crawls up to the hole to see if the coast is clear, but a redheaded boy leaps out and hisses at her. Jay runs out through the water exit of the boathouse, then finds Greg’s station wagon and speeds away from the cottage, leaving all her friends behind. She drives so recklessly, she doesn’t notice a truck reversing into the street, and has to swerve to avoid it, crashing in some farmer’s cornfield. When she awakes, she’s resting in a hospital bed with a head wound. Her friends are seated in the room beside her, all fast asleep. She waits there, helpless, listening to the nurses walk up and down the hospital halls, wondering if one of them is really “it.”

That night, in the hospital bed, Greg, true American hero, agrees to have sex with Jay to rid her of her demonic stalker. They solemnly make love, but Jay keeps her eyes on the door the entire time. (Paul, obviously, is super-jealous.) Three days later, Greg visits Jay in the hospital again to report that he hasn’t seen it – he doesn’t think it’s following him. (Such hubris!) Despite passing the affliction on, Jay still suffers from intense depression, hiding in her bedroom, refusing to open the door. Greg talks with Jay’s three friends, and they ask if he’s really never seen anything. “She didn’t make it up,” Paul insists. Greg, however, is dubious. That night, Jay stares out her window during her self-imposed sequestration. She sees Greg, in his undershirt and long underwear, walk down the block to his house, then attempt to open his own door. Failing, he resorts to throwing a rock through the window and climbing inside. Jay realizes that this may not be Greg at all!

When the sweathog next door doesn't believe you, it's good your friends have your back.

When the sweathog next door doesn’t believe you, it’s good your friends have your back.

She frantically calls Greg’s phone, but he doesn’t answer. So she runs across the street and climbs in through the broken window, as well. At the top of the stairs, she sees Greg’s mom, half-undressed, banging robotically at Greg’s door. Greg opens it and says, “What the fuck, Mom?” Moments after, his mom attacks him, pushing him back into the bedroom. Jay runs into the room and sees it (in the guise of Greg’s mom) seemingly “sexing” Greg to death. Electricity fires around the two of them and Greg is killed. Jay runs to her car and weepily drives away from her neighbourhood. She parks in a remote spot near the water and falls asleep on the hood of her car. (Meg asked, at this point, whether there was a rule that it couldn’t get you when you’re asleep, which is a very good question. It seems to need to have you aware of its presence to kill you.) When she awakes, she sees a leisure craft on the water, during which a few guys seem to be having an early morning boat party. She strips down to her underwear and enters the water, though viewers have no idea what happens next.

Later, Jay and Paul sit in her barricaded bedroom. Paul suggests that she could pass it on – to him, that is. Paul, clearly hurt that Jay decided to give Greg a death sentence instead of him, asks why she picked Greg. She notes that he didn’t seem scared, and she refuses to subject Paul to the same fate. Paul, looking around Jay’s room, spots a photo of her swimming and develops an idea. The four friends go to 8 Mile (a.k.a. Eminem’s home turf) and talk about how scared their parents were of their children ever visiting Detroit. (“That’s a weird class element to introduce,” Meg noted, given the movie was entering its final act.) They break into a massive university swimming pool, totally unattended but well maintained. They plug in an assemblage of electrical appliances and set them up poolside. Their plan is to lure it into the water, with Jay as bait, then dump in the devices to electrocute it.

Jay treads water for a while until her relentless pursuer arrives. He has taken the form (I think) of her father (who we’ve only seen in photographs to this point), and she begins to freak out. She points at the thing – invisible to everyone else – and says it’s just staring at her. Then it, unseen, doesn’t enter the water but instead begins tossing in the electrical equipment at Jay. He manages to wing Jay with a typewriter. Their plan is totally backfiring, but at least Jay doesn’t get electrocuted. Paul takes the gun and begins to fire at where the thing seems to be. Instead, he accidentally shoots Yara in the leg. Finally, Kelly – clearly the only one who’s ever seen an episode of Scooby-Doo – tosses a blanket over the entity, which provides Paul with a clear target. He shoots it in the back of the head and it falls into the pool.

TFW you regret being bait for the murderous entity that's taken the form of your estranged father.

TFW you regret being bait for the murderous entity that’s taken the form of your estranged father.

Jay tries to swim out of the pool, but the thing isn’t dead. The creature that looks like her father swims after her and grabs her ankle. Paul begins to shoot wildly into the pool – who put him in charge of the gun? – finally hitting the thing in the head. It sinks to the pool’s bottom and Jay clambers out of the water. Her ankle is seriously bruised. Paul asks Jay if she can tell whether it’s dead. Jay cautiously crawls over to the pool, but only sees a massive amount of blood pooling and mushrooming in the water. On the rainy night that follows, Paul and Jay decide to have fairly grim sex. “Do you feel any different?” he asks her afterward. Neither of them do.

Paul is later seen driving past a couple of sex workers. The gang visits Yara, recuperating from her gunshot wound in the hospital, and she regales them – through a mouth full of sandwich – with a passage from The Idiot about the inevitability of death. Paul dozes in his chair, possibly exhausted by a bunch of sex-having. The final shot of the film shows Jay and Paul, walking hand-in-hand, down their street, with someone trailing behind who may or may not be following them.

Someone should tell the mature student that university kids no longer show up to class in their pyjamas.

Someone should tell the mature student that university kids no longer show up to class in their pyjamas.

Takeaway points:

  • It Follows, in which our characters sexually transmit an unstoppable pursuer who follows you until you die, is very obviously a metaphor for STIs, but also, of death in general. Much has been made of the STI parallels, and there’s no shortage of dread around sex in the movie. But the filmmakers – with their references to The Idiot and “J. Alfred Prufrock” – seem to be suggesting that “it” is more like death than an STI. Your really can’t avoid death. Even if you pass it along to someone else, it will eventually come back to you. Perhaps this is partially why It Follows is so scary – it’s a horror movie that is also our reality.
  • Or is It Follows really a PSA about best practices regarding sex when you have an STI? Obviously, the meanest thing would be to have sex and pass this thing along without telling your partner. (In this case, your partner would die relatively soon, and the “STI” would come back to kill you in no time.) A better practice, the film seems to suggest, is to do as Hugh did – have sex with this STI, then inform your partner what has happened and what to expect. This allows him to live a bit longer – he is not punished as severely in this scenario. But he still tells Jay after the fact. The most humane practice would be to do as Jay and Paul do – go into it with the foreknowledge that you will be infected. In this case, they can both watch out for each other. As Marielle pointed out during the screening, there seems to be strength in numbers. Whether this is or isn’t a tacit endorsement of polyamorous relationships can’t be definitively proven.
  • The big question of It Follows is: when does this take place? The vehicles look like they’re from the 1960s. The movies they watch are from the 1950s. The clothing they wear reads mostly as 1980s. But the compact e-reader Yara uses is clearly modern – even futuristic – and the girl from the opening calls her father on a mobile phone. It Follows consciously establishes its setting as outside of time, giving it a dream-like quality. You are not supposed to be able to identify the year.
  • During a slower portion of the film, Marielle, Meg, and I devised our best practices for avoiding “it.” Suggestions included: having sex with someone relatively promiscuous just before they board an international flight, having sex with an astronaut just before he/she departs for space, having sex with a cheetah (?), attempting to trap it in a well, and possibly filling that well with concrete. But we are open to other suggestions.
  • It Follows is yet another horror film that benefits greatly from a killer soundtrack. The score, composed and performed by Disasterpiece, is a collection of eerie and ominous electronic songs reminiscent of John Carpenter’s best work. It’s one of the best, most effective horror soundtracks in years.
  • Perhaps the most clever part of It Follows is how it uses pre-established rules of pacing and framing from other horror movies to create its sense of dread. The camera is constantly either in slow-zoom or slow-pan, making viewers glance around the frame uneasily. In horror movies, when the cinematography takes on a certain feeling or pace, viewers know to be wary, for something unfortunate is about to happen. The genius of It Follows is that after Jay is infected, literally every scene is one of those scenes. Whenever Jay is conscious, we are on alert that something bad might happen, as is Jay herself. The nail-biting suspense can be almost too much to handle in some scenes.
  • I have yet to parse what this means, but every thing that follows Jay is either completely naked or in some kind of sleepwear. Given that it also seems to be inactive while the victims are asleep, I feel like there’s a very distinct reason for this.

Truly terrifying or truly terrible?: It Follows is great. Just one of the best horror films made in the past decade. Not only is it high-concept, it’s incredibly creepy. You’ll feel paranoid for days afterward about anyone walking toward you at a certain pace. The very concept seems culled from a nightmare of our collective unconscious. It Follows also really exploits my personal fear of things happening at a distance. In horror movies, I find disturbing / scary things happening in close-up far less unsettling than things that happen at a bit of a distance to the camera. Thinking of scary moments – the bat-guy from Jeepers Creepers jumping into his truck, the filmmaker facing a corner in The Blair Witch Project, the cloaked lopper attacking the nurse in The Exorcist III – these all happen at some distance from the camera. It Follows is almost entirely scenes like that.

Legwarmers at the beach? Choose a style, Kelly! Just kidding; keep doing what you're doing.

Legwarmers at the beach? Choose a style, Kelly! Just kidding; keep doing what you’re doing.

Best outfit: Who wears leg warmers to the beach? Jay’s sister Kelly does, along with a floral bikini top and jean shorts. It doesn’t seem like it would work together, and I’m not sure it does, but I certainly applaud the effort.

Best line: “Not Hugh?” – a perplexed Paul, upon learning Jay’s it-infected boyfriend’s real name is “Jeff”

Best kill: Not too many people die in It Follows. The post-murder scene of the film’s introduction is pretty striking, though – backward leg and all. So while the murder doesn’t happen on-screen, it manages to be the most memorable in it’s artistic, Hannibal-like aftermath.

Unexpected cameo: Paul is played by Keir Gilchrist, who may be known to many viewers as Marshall Gregson, Tara’s film-obsessed son on United States of Tara. When the entity takes the form of a very tall man who barges into Jay’s bedroom, he’s portrayed by Mike Lanier, a 7′ 7″ gentleman who also happens to be one of the world’s largest twins.

Unexpected lesson(s) learned: Despite their devastated economy, Detroit still manages to keep the lights on in their massive-yet-empty swimming complexes throughout the entire night.

Most suitable band name derived from the movie: Clamshell E-Reader

Next up: The Stepfather (1987).

31 Days of Fright: Possession

If anything, Possession demonstrates why it might not be a great idea to own an  electric knife.

If nothing else, Possession demonstrates why it might not be a great idea to own an electric knife.

This January, in support of the Toronto Rape Crisis Centre / Multicultural Women Against Rape, friends and family have raised over $1,000, which means I have to watch and write about thirty-one horror movies. I’ll watch (on average) one movie a night, many of them requested by donors, after which I’ll write some things about said movies on this website. Be forewarned that all such write-ups will contain spoilers! Last night, I watched Possession, a bonkers little film directed by Andrzej Zulawski (La femme publique, Fidelity). This film was another suggestion from donor and friend David Summers, who you may recall recommended the very strange and appealing Lemora: A Child’s Tale of the Supernatural. Of Possession, Summers said it was “the most essential on the list” that he provided. Possession was obtained from my backup video store, Bay Street Video.

What happens:

Ladies and gentlemen, the other horror movies can go home, because I don’t think any of them are going to get weirder, more intense, and ickier! This is like Antichrist meets H.P. Lovecraft. The film opens in West Berlin (before the fall of the Wall, obvi), with Mark (Sam Neill) returning home from a mysterious business trip. (If your business is mysterious in 1981 Berlin, I have to assume it involves espionage.) Carrying the most bags any human could possibly carry, he’s met outside his apartment by his wife, Anna (Isabelle Adjani, killing it in every scene), who seems a little codl. Mark, realizing things are not well in their relationship, is confused about her ambivalence. But she reluctantly lets him up. They watch their young son, Bob (Michael Hogben), in the bath for a while, then retire to bed. Lying side by side, they muse that perhaps all couples go through this feeling of distance, and they each blame themselves for their relationship’s dissolution.

Their marriage, it would seem, was ending some time before Mark went away. They ask each other if they have been faithful, and both promise they were. Mark says that this sort of growing apart is just natural. Maybe growing apart as a couple is, but what follows in Possession 100% isn’t. Mark then goes to resign from his mysterious job. In a large, empty room, he provides his final report on the man in pink socks (?) to a tribunal of four men. They want to hire him for more work, but Mark says their business is through. He needs to spend time with his family. Mark leaves with a suitcase full of bills. He returns to his blue apartment, which overlooks Checkpoint Charlie.

That night, Mark is awakened by a phone call. Anna is downtown and won’t be coming home; she needs time to think about herself. Going through the bookshelves, Mark finds a postcard from someone named Heinrich, who writes, “I’ve seen half of God’s face here. The other half is you.” (Silver-tongued devil!) Mark calls Anna’s one friend, Margie, and asks if she knows about another man in her life. Margie claims ignorance, but Anna calls Mark immediately after he hangs up, telling him it’s over. Anna admits she’s been seeing someone for a while now, and Mark asks a hundred jealous questions: “Do you sleep with him? Do you like it? More than with me?” He insists they meet at the Cafe Einstein to discuss how to live their lives going forward.

Mark and Anna test out the latest speed-dating fad in Possession.

Mark and Anna test out the latest speed-dating fad in Possession.

In the cafe, they sit at adjacent tables, and Mark outlines what he’ll do – he’ll pay a certain amount to her every month, but he doesn’t want to see Bob, their child. This upsets Anna greatly. Mark begins to make a scene, dumping his glassware on the floor. Anna, however, tells Mark that no one is good or bad in this situation. But if he wants her to be the bad one (as it seems he does), she will tell him that she regrets having a child with him. This snaps something in Mark and he chases after his wife in a rage, knocking over tables. The servers have to physically restrain him. Mark later moves into a hotel and falls into a deep funk, living in squalor, not shaving, being unable to speak on the phone, convulsing like a prisoner of war attempting to readjust to civilian life. He lives like this for three weeks without realizing it.

Eventually he cleans himself up – well, he shaves, even if he’s still wearing filthy clothes – and goes back to their apartment. He finds Bob, completely unattended, living amidst a total mess. Bob, happy to see his dad, shows him a ship that “Uncle Heinrich” gave him. When Anna returns, Mark has been waiting, silently stewing in the rocking chair. She promises him about their latchkey kid, “It’s not always like this.” Mark announces he’s taking over. He says that Anna must restore order, and she must do so by calling Heinrich on the telephone and ending it. Anna says she would have to do it in person, and Mark says he no longer trusts her. She begins to weep, and a conciliatory Mark undresses her and tucks her into bed. It seems like things are getting a little better when Mark is awakened by a phone call. Anna has disappeared. The man on the other end of the phone says, “Anna is with me and will stay with me.”

Incensed, Mark calls Margie to obtain Heinrich’s number. He calls it, but an older woman answers and says that Heinrich isn’t home, and Anna hasn’t been around for weeks. Once Bob wakes up and finds his father crouched on the floor, looking up names in the Berlin White Pages, Mark feels embarrassed and gives up his pursuit. He drops Bob off at school the next day and makes a startling discovery: his son’s teacher, Helen, looks exactly like his wife in a wig. (Probably because she’s also portrayed by Isabelle Adjani.) “What is this, a joke?” Mark laughs. With his son safely in school, Mark hunts down Heinrich at his home. The leather-skinned Heinrich (Heinz Bennent), who doesn’t seem to know how shirt buttons work and speaks like Fritz Lang, answers the door. “I’ve come for Anna,” Mark announces. Heinrich, who is very touchy-feely (kind of like Dr. Oz) insists that he and Mark don’t have to be brutal with one another. Heinrich, unlike Mark, is very into spirituality and personal psychology and all that kind of thing. But more importantly, he says that he hasn’t been with Anna since Mark had returned from his trip.

Heinrich’s aged mother walks in and Mark is bewildered. “Is she here all the time? Even when you’re fucking Anna?!” Apparently, “yes” is the wrong answer, because Mark attacks Heinrich. Heinrich, however, is some sort of expert brawler and beats him bloody. Mark starts to choke Heinrich when the older, tanner man lets his guard down, but that just leads Heinrich to rough him up a little more. Mark returns home, bleeding freely, too find Anna preparing Bob some food. Mark demands to know where Anna went last night, and she refuses to tell him. Mark suggests that if Anna really cared about their son, she would try to hold their relationship together. Anna has a pretty good response to that: “Don’t you understand you disgust me?!” Their verbal argument reaches a fever pitch and Anna slaps Mark. “Do it again,” he whispers. Anna just grins, then runs away. Mark then proceeds to give his wife a merciless, interminably long beating that’s really difficult to watch. “You know what this is for?” he asks. “Lllliiiiieeeessss.” She runs downstairs and he pursues her, shouting names. Anna runs into the street, drooling blood, and they nearly cause a truck accident.

Don't be fooled. Possession is not a vampire movie. Unless by "vampire," you mean a relationship sucking the will to live from you.

Don’t be fooled. Possession is not a vampire movie. Unless by “vampire,” you mean a relationship sucking the will to live from you.

Margie Gluckmeister (Margit Carstensen) arrives at the apartment to take care of Bob in Anna’s absence, even though she professes to loathe Mark. (The feeling is mutual.) The next day, Mark visits Mr. Zimmerman (Shaun Lawton), a private detective, and asks him to follow his wife for a few days. Eventually, Anna returns to the apartment, and, almost upon arrival, begins to cut up some meat with an electric knife. (You know, as you do.) Mark asks how long this situation is going to last, with her coming back intermittently, them fighting and splitting up once again. Anna then busts out a meat grinder and starts grinding the meat she’s cut. Mark continues his interrogation, asking about a hundred questions, all of which Anna won’t answer. The only question she does answer is when he asks if she’s afraid he won’t like her. “Yes,” she nods. Then Anna takes the electric knife to her neck and starts to cut.

Mark grabs the knife away from her and rushes Anna to the bathroom, where he patches her up with gauze. He doesn’t want his wife to die. “You’re my whole family,” he says tenderly. Then Mark returns to the kitchen, where he calmly cuts himself in three places along his arm with the electric knife. Anna returns, looking like Mina Harker with her neck bandage, and announces she has to go. As she departs, a not-very-good detective (Carl Duering) very obviously tails her on her way home. On the subway, a homeless man takes a banana from Anna’s shopping bag and eats it – a visual admission that this movie is, in fact, bananas. By the end of this pursuit, the detective is literally running after Anna. Though it seems clear he’s been “made,” he at least found Anna’s address. He calls from a pay phone and provides the address to Mark.

The detective then decides to pay Anna a visit. He rings at the door first, and when no one answers, bangs insistently. She opens the door and the man enters, claiming to be from the building, investigating a claim about broken windows. Anna clearly does not want the detective in her apartment, and seems terrified by his arrival. The apartment is large, but barely furnished. He tours the place, appraising all the windows. But when Anna offers him a glass of wine, the detective is weirdly unsettled by her offer. He then goes to investigate the washroom and finds, in the darkness, a black, writhing something. Before he can identify what it is, Anna surprises him, then stabs him twice in the neck with a broken wine bottle.

Bob’s teacher, Helen, makes a house call, looking for Anna. Mark begins to explain they split up, but the doorbell rings again. Mark puts the teacher in charge of Bob and goes to greet Heinrich, who is possibly drunk, and looking for Anna. Heinrich reveals that he had a wife and kid once, who now live in Cincinnati (a fate worse than Heinrich). Mark keeps him talking his spiritual mumbo-jumbo, but refuses him entry into his apartment. “I used to be afraid of you,” Mark says to the shambolic man. “There is nothing to fear but God,” Heinrich responds. “Whatever that means to you.” To Mark, God is a disease. (Cheery.) Once Heinrich leaves, Helen helps put Bob to bed, then starts doing the dishes. She asks Mark if he has any help taking care of Bob. She’s concerned that he’s been having night terrors. Mark then launches into some men’s rights monologue, claiming he’s at war with women. “They have no foresight. I can’t trust them.” Helen responds by saying, “There is nothing in common among women except menstruation.”

Helen does some chores around the house, which largely involve removing blood from various surfaces and utensils.

Helen does some chores around the house, which largely involve removing blood from various surfaces and utensils.

Moved by Helen’s speech, Mark embraces her, and she decides to stay the night. They enter bed, naked, but are interrupted by Bob’s screams for “Mommy!” When Mark returns to the bedroom, Helen has dressed and is ready to leave. The next day, the true example of fragile masculinity Mark is, he can’t even look at Helen when he drops Bob off for school. Mr. Zimmerman finds Mark at his son’s school and asks if he’s heard from the detective on his case: he never returned home. Zimmerman reveals in confidence that the detective is his lover, and Mark provides him with the address he found for Anna.

When Zimmerman arrives at the apartment, the door is ajar. He lets himself inside, where Anna is busy washing the floor. He flashes a photo of his partner and asks if she’s ever seen the man. Their talk turns dark and existential – almost suicidal – and then Anna reveals the man is in the next room. Zimmerman enters to find a scene of pure horror. On the blood-drenched bed is a squirming, tentacled thing. Blood and foam has spilled all over the floor. “Mein Gott,” Zimmerman says (clearly quoting Nightcrawler from the X-Men). Anna explains: “He’s very tired. He made love to me all night.” She also notes that he’s “still unfinished.” Zimmerman then spots the body of his partner, and in a rage he shoots at her. But Anna retaliates, smashing his head mercilessly, then taking his own gun and shooting him thrice.

Mark finds a film strip on his doorstep, so he plays it. The film, shot by Heinrich, shows Anna teaching a dance class. Anna is a complete sadist, forcing one pre-teen dancer into uncomfortable positions until she moans and cries in pain. After shaming this average dancer, criticizing her lack of ambition, she turns to the camera to say, “That why I’m with you. Because you say ‘I’ for me.” (I’m just as confused as you are.) Also in the film strip, Anna confesses that she loves Heinrich, but what keeps her going is the pain that their affair will cause Mark. The next time Mark arrives home, Anna is again present (you’d think he’d change the locks), putting clothes in the refrigerator and doing other such helpful things. Mark tries to get her to just sit with him on the couch, and, like Lady Macbeth, she tries to wash off her hands without water. She begins to flip out, moreso than any character in a David Lynch film, and shouts, “I feel nothing for no one!” And then she reveals she had a miscarriage, which she blames for her erratic behaviour.

Then comes the most unsettling subway scene in film history, this side of Irreversible. In flashback, Anna departs the subway. In the subway corridor, she begins to laugh nervously, then scarily. She begins to scream and wail, then smashes her bag of groceries on the tunnel wall, spreading milk and other fluids on the wall. Next, Anna pants and contorts her body into what seem like modern dance positions. Eventually she falls to the subway floor, and white fluid and blood begin to pour from her mouth, ears, and vagina, pooling in a mess on the floor. (And the whole time, not a single other commuter passes by.) We return to Anna on the couch, who says that what she miscarried was “Sister Faith,” and what remained was “Sister Chance.” Not sure what to make of this, he tells Anna that she looks uglier and more vulgar than he remembered.

Anna, in the most harrowing rendition of the Batusi committed to film.

Anna, in the most harrowing rendition of the Batusi committed to film.

Anna leaves, and Mark, feeling sinister, calls Heinrich’s mom and tells her Anna’s address. Heinrich drives over to Anna’s flat right away, dressed all in white, toting a bouquet of flowers – Morrissey would be proud. He enters her apartment and immediately begins to feel Anna up and offer her some sex-enhancing drugs. Heinrich drags Anna to the bedroom, but then spots, in the other room, the terrifying blood-soaked fleshy creature, which now has something resembling eyes and a mouth. Heinrich panics at seeing the monster. He runs to the kitchen and sees, inside Anna’s fridge, the severed body parts of the two detectives. When he turns to question Anna, she begins talking about how people are just meat, then stabs him in the chest. Heinrich runs from the apartment and calls Mark on the pay phone. Mark tells Heinrich to wait in the bar at the corner – “bleed for a while” – and he’ll come to him. Anna, meanwhile, undresses and approaches the creature, now reclining on the bed.

Mark finally visits Anna’s new address – just walks right in, very sprightly. He’s got a real spring in his step now that Heinrich’s been stabbed. He even clutches at his genitals like a four-year-old. No one seems to be in the apartment, though. Anna and the creature are gone. And Mark’s good mood is ruined when he sees the horror in the refrigerator. He begins to hyperventilate and has to open a window to calm down. But once he regains his equilibrium, develops a devilish grin. Mark turns the stove on, filling the room with gas, then heads down to the bar to visit Heinrich. Heinrich, hiding by the pinball machine in the rear, will only talk in the men’s washroom. “She’s killing people,” he says. Then he tells Mark, now chewing on a toothpick like Ryan Gosling in Drive, about the thing in the bedroom. “Maybe it was divine!” he jokes, probably not talking about the John Waters actor. Heinrich pukes, just thinking about it, and Mark starts to scheme. He plugs a toilet with a shoe he finds in the garbage, then takes feather (also from the trash) and sticks it down his throat to make himself sick.

Vomiting in the toilet, he calls Heinrich for help. When Heinrich opens the stall, Mark smashes his face with the porcelain toilet tank lid, then pushes him face-down into the plugged toilet. Mark flushes and leaves the stall as blood overflows from the bowl. He then returns to Anna’s gas-filled apartment and rigs a sparking mechanism, which causes the apartment to explode as he departs. Mark speeds away home on a dead man’s motorcycle. When he returns to his apartment, he finds Margie, whose throat is cut and front is soaked with blood. He grabs Bob’s de facto caregiver and drags the dying woman to his bathroom. Mark finds Anna in the kitchen and reaches out to her, covered in blood, and begins to weep. Anna washes Mark up in the kitchen sink, then turns to him: “Do you believe in God? It’s in me.” She kneels before him and they make love on the kitchen floor.

Heinrich, on his way to P. Diddy's white party, stops to romance Anna.

Heinrich, on his way to P. Diddy’s White Party, stops by to romance Anna.

Afterward, Anna says that her apartment has become unsafe. (Her apartment has become a smoking crater, but I guess she doesn’t know that yet.) Mark gives Anna Margie’s keys and tells her to wait for him there. He then goes about routine chores, like stuffing Marge into a mattress bag and stuffing that all into the trunk of his car. Heinrich’s mother calls Mark, worried about where her son is. She reveals that she travelled to that address Mark gave her, and the apartment is but a smoking ruin. She then went to a nearby bar and found Heinrich’s body, “but not his soul.” Blowing off the old woman, Mark brings Bob to Helen, having killed his usual babysitter. By the time he arrives at Margie’s apartment, Anna is already dying of thirst (if you know what I mean). Mark can hear her orgasmic moans, and each cry of joy drives him mad. Mark continues into the apartment and finds her in bed, having sex with a tentacled blood creature. As they copulate, Anna turns to face Mark, and moans, “Almost … almost … almost …”

For reasons not entirely clear, Mark goes to Heinrich’s and speaks with his mother. He tells her that Heinrich is dead, and that he found Anna. He also confesses that he thought about killing her. (The old woman, not Anna … but he probably did that, too.) The two talk about the body / soul divide, and Mark helps her into bed. The next morning, Mark stands at the Berlin Wall, contemplating life (and death). He sees a dead dog under a bridge and thinks about the dog from his childhood that crawled under his porch to die. His employer arrives at the Wall and tells him the dog didn’t die of old age. In vaguely threatening terms, he tries to convince Mark to come back to work.

Mark goes to Zimmerman’s house, where police have arrived for an investigation. Mark commandeers a taxi cab and forces the driver, at gunpoint, to ram the parked police car. As Mark runs from the scene, he’s shot by a one-eyed detective, who Mark shoots and kills in retaliation. He drives away on the motorbike, but skids out in a parking lot, earning a serious case of road rash. Drenched in blood, Mark staggers to Margie’s apartment. He ascends the spiral staircase and, as he reaches the top, Anna enters at the ground floor. She runs up after him with someone in tow. “I wanted to show it to you,” she says. “It is finished now.” The creature now looks exactly like Mark – though a lot less battle-damaged. Mark, horrified, aims his pistol at the thing’s head. But at that exact moment, the police enter below and open fire on the three of them. Both Anna and Mark collapse in the hail of gunfire, but the Mark-like creature appears unharmed.

Romeo is bleeding ... pretty much through the entire movie. They both are, really.

Romeo is bleeding … pretty much through the entire movie. They both are, really.

Mark and Anna share a passionate, bloody kiss, then Anna takes Mark’s gun and – in the strangest possible way – shoots herself in the lower back. The creature turns to Mark and says, “So hard to live with it. Eh, brother?” Somehow Margie is still alive (?) at the top of the stairs. The creature hands her Mark’s gun and instructs her to shoot Mark. Mark rolls off the stairs and plummets to his death while the creature climbs over top Margie and escapes through the roof. Mark’s former employer – clearly wearing pink socks – finds his body. Like the dog, it appears Mark didn’t die of old age.

The film then cuts to Helen, Bob’s teacher, playing with Bob at her kitchen table. The doorbell rings and Bob warns her, “Don’t open! Don’t open!” Nevertheless, Helen goes to the front door, and the Mark-like thing waits on the other side of the glass. Bob runs upstairs and (seemingly) drowns himself in the bath (which was already filled). The apartment fills with the sounds of explosions and flashes of light. The camera noses in to the teacher’s face, mid-revelation, as something that may or may not be Mark paws at the door behind her.

Clearly the end sequence of Possession was an influence on the video to Drake's "Hotline Bling."

Clearly the end sequence of Possession was an influence on the video to Drake’s “Hotline Bling.”

Takeaway points:

  • The director, Andrzej Zulawski, has noted that the film was inspired by a messy divorce. Much like David Cronenberg’s The Brood, a movie that, alongside Lars von Trier’s Antichrist, shares a lot of qualities with Possession. They meld the drama of a relationship breakdown with the tropes of horror. In Possession, even before the murder and goopy tentacle monsters make an appearance, Mark and Anna’s relationship is shown to be a total horror show. Clearly, Anna is suffering from some mental health concerns, but it doesn’t help that Mark deeply mistrusts her and is driven into rages by the mere idea that she might have had sex with someone else. The fights between the couple are horror enough. When you introduce the actual scary elements, the film becomes a sort of nightmare tone poem for the most dysfunctional romance imaginable. Makes you worry about Zulawski and his ex-wife.
  • In my notes, I have written, “I feel like I don’t understand sex enough to understand this movie.” And I stand by this statement. Clearly, sex is central in Possession. In fact, it’s as if Mark can think of his wife Anna as nothing but sexual. His only concern, it seems, is whether Anna is having a sexual relationship with someone else (and whether that relationship is better than their own). He is horrified enough when he meets Heinrich, in all his new-agey, significantly older man-glory. So when he sees the thing that is truly giving Anna this newfound sexual pleasure – a disgusting tentacle monster, the very definition of ugly-hot – so much greater is his distress. For Mark, possessing Anna’s sexuality is of utmost importance. She is allowed to have no secrets – there can be no unknowability in their relationship. This is why he questions his wife constantly. Mark’s need to possess is indicative of his general fear of women – for women’s sexuality is unknowable: their genitals are found inside the body, they can fake orgasm, the paternity of children can be questioned. Mark’s worry that Anna is “sleeping around” is his fear of the opposite sex. In other sex talk, Heinrich talks about sex as a method of getting closer to God, and there are more than a few references to the creature that Anna keeps secret as divine. Has Anna moved one step closer? Is she having sex with God (or a god)?
  • The difference between Helen and Anna couldn’t be starker. Whereas Anna – at least at the point we see her in the movie – is unpredictable, at times violent, and usually a bit neglectful of young Bob, Helen is a natural caregiver, immediately shouldering the emotional and physical labour of child-rearing. It’s almost comical how readily the young teacher takes to raising the child of a stranger. She visits to talk about Bob’s nightmares, but before Mark can turn around, Helen is putting Bob to bed and washing their dishes. Helen is an unusual figure because she really embraces the traditional idea of woman as caregiver – even to the point of being worried that Mark doesn’t have any help with Bob. (Would she express the same worry about a single mother?) Yet she’s also the one who tears a strip off Mark when he rails against all womankind in his misogynist rant. More than anything else, the dichotomy of Anna and Helen serves to illustrate what sort of man Mark is, and the traditional expectations he holds.
  • So, just what in the Sam Hill is happening in Possession? I have very little idea, and I can’t pretend I do. I feel like it may take me weeks to even begin to establish a theory. (Days alone spent interpreting that final scene!) At the very least, it seems to be about self-disgust on some level. Anna professes the idea that she is the maker of her own evil, of everything she wars against. There is something loathsome about her that she recognizes, and her only real fear is that Mark will recognize it, too, and dislike her. Mark expresses the same self-disgust in a less vocal manner. He is repulsed by the creature Anna has taken as a lover. But it is a creature that ultimately looks and acts just like him.

Truly terrifying or truly terrible?: Possession is both creepy and unforgettable. After viewing it, I sat in my living room for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what I saw. Whatever it was, certain images and scenes are now burned into my visual memory. And it’s not just the tentacle creature or the interpretive miscarriage that carry the most weight. Anna and Mark’s fights are the most disturbing scenes of all. The film should carry a Surgeon General’s warning that it shouldn’t be viewed by anyone in the midst of a breakup. As disturbing as it is, I’d also consider it a very strange masterpiece.

Sam Neill, looking more than a little like Mark Hamill in the midst of a Corvette Summer.

Everybody in Berlin is wearing bloodstained trousers this summer.

Best outfit: The clothes that Mark first wears to drop off Bob at school is the best of his many tight-fitting outfits. With his shirt collar sticking out from a tight olive sweater, rounded out with white stovepipe pants, Mark is the single dad that has all the moms doing a double-take. (Good thing they never saw him in his three-week-old filth.)

Best line: “I can’t exist by myself because I’m afraid of myself, because I’m the maker of my own evil.” – Anna, neatly summarizing modern existence in one sentence

Best kill: This is just a personal preference, but I’m a big fan of stabbings with broken bottles. (In movies, that is. Not so much in real life.) So, as sad as it is to see the (unnamed?) detective get a wine bottle to the neck, it is a pretty good kill.

Unexpected cameo: Obviously, Sam Neill – a.k.a. Dr. Alan Grant – is always a welcome addition to a film. Even if he’s spending the majority of it being incredibly jealous and angry. And of course you know Isabelle Adjani from Nosferatu (where she actually played Mina Harker) and Ishtar.

Unexpected lesson(s) learned: There are not a lot of what you’d call “concerned bystanders” in Berlin. Apparently no one uses the subway system, no one bats an eye at a man gushing blood while hanging out near the pinball machine in the rear of a bar. And you can stuff a clear plastic bag with a woman’s body inside into the trunk of your car in broad daylight.

Most suitable band name derived from the movie: Postcards from Heinrich (like Letters to Cleo, but better)

Next up: It Follows (2014).