Tag: Andrzej Zulawski

The Invocation of Inner Demons in Andrzej Żuławski’s ‘Possession’

Mark’s doppelgänger reflects Anna’s fascination with Heinrich’s persona: narcissism, religion, imagination, and his sexual freedom. Anna’s doppelgänger, Helen, is a pure, calm, and collected woman. That’s precisely what Mark wants–the opposite of Anna.

Trouble in paradise
Trouble in paradise

 

This guest post by Giselle Defares appears as part of our theme week on Demon and Spirit Possession.

Possession in horror is often linked to the control of a person by a demon or spirit. It’s an impending revelation of an evil outside one’s self.  Why are we so enthralled with this concept in horror? If you follow  the “Beast Within” approach,  Joseph Grixti argues that horror stories evoke a certain catharsis as an important mechanism to give a place to deep psychoanalytic and suppressed desires. He believes that “human beings are worried at the core.” In other words: the catharsis within the horror genre can in this way serve as a safety measure. Is that not precisely what Aristotle said on tragedy: “Catharsis through tragedy accounts for the transformation of what would be painful in real life to what is deeply enjoyable when embodied in the structure of a work of art. ” Possession (1981) is often shelved with the other classic horror movies of the 1970s and ‘80s–think of The Exorcist (1973) or The Amityville Horror (1979)–but the horror genre doesn’t fully reflect the intricacies of the movie. Possession is a cult-drama-psychological-thriller- horror to the max.

The Polish director Andrzej Żuławski left  his homeland after his second movie, The Devil (1972),  was banned. He moved to France and his project Possession got financial backing from a French production studio and was shot in West Germany. His success in France gave Żuławski the opportunity to move back to Poland and work on a project of his own choice. Unfortunately, the Ministry of Cultural Affairs halted the production of his movie On The Silver Globe (1988).

Possession is inspired by real life events (well, sort of). Żuławski penned the script after his marriage to Malgorzata Braunek (Polish star of his first movies) crumbled down and he was left with the care of their son Xawery– who is now a celebrated director in his own right. After its release, the film was heavily cut in the US and banned in Britain, until an uncut VHS release in 1999. Isabelle Adjani received accolades for her role and she won the Best Actress award at the Cannes Film Festival, and vowed that she would never play a similar role again.

An unpleasant surprise
An unpleasant surprise

 

Possession takes place in gloomy, washed out Berlin. Mark (Sam Neill) comes back from a duty journey–as an international spy does–to his wife and young son, and finds that in his home nothing is as it seems. The opening scene of Possession is focused on the end of a marriage. Anna (Adjani) tells Mark that she feels that she has to leave him. Although she doesn’t quite understand why, she laments “Maybe all couples go through this..?” The tone is set in the first three minutes, and the unraveling of the marriage begins. Anna shows disruptive behavior, becomes unhinged, and sneaks off to her unseen lover. While Mark was away, she had a relationship with Heinrich (Heinz Bennent), who is a kung fu practicing psychiatrist and apparently sexually superior to Mark. Slowly the “family” drama is unfolding.

Possession gives us a marriage where the protagonists are conjuring the demons that we have within ourselves. It was interesting to see Mark decompose himself when Anna asks for a divorce. You slowly see him breaking down, rocking back and forth on his bed, the fear and despair seeping out of his pores. He can’t hold on to his idyllic image he created of Anna. He has to let go, but he can’t. The first half of the film focuses on the dissipation between Mark and Anna. We are voyeurs  in their claustrophobic apartment. The second half has a sudden psychedelic and macabre feel.  The events are more in the open and all the craziness bursts out. Mark hires a private detective to check on Anna’s whereabouts. She’s been living in an abandoned apartment where she–literally–can hide her monster. Slowly we see the monster evolving and his appearance becomes more human while Mark and Anna fall into despair, violence, and hysteria. The apocalypse is coming.

The movie is filled  with metaphors. In one of their numerous shouting matches, Żuławski directly puts a car crash into the shot. Every action in Possession has a double meaning. Whether it’s the location (divided Berlin), or Anna’s hysteria, which is countered by Mark, who remains stiff and stoic. There’s a lot of excess  in the movie, whether it be bodily fluids such as vomit, blood, milk, mucus, or the over spilling of emotions from Mark and Anna. While emotions run high, we’re introduced to the presence of the couple’s doppelgängers. Mark’s doppelgänger reflects Anna’s fascination with Heinrich’s persona:  narcissism, religion, imagination, and his sexual freedom. Anna’s doppelgänger, Helen, is a pure, calm, and collected woman. That’s precisely what Mark wants–the opposite of Anna. Helen exclaims she comes “from a place where evil seems easier to pinpoint because you can see it in the flesh.” Alright.

“What I miscarried there was Sister Faith and what was left was Sister Chance.”
“What I miscarried there was Sister Faith and what was left was Sister Chance.”

 

The relationships are complex. Anna is depicted as the hysterical one in the relationship. Their son Bob functions as their bridge. Bob is the sole reason Anna keeps being lured back into Mark’s arms. Bob spends a lot of time underwater, while practicing his “world record in tub diving.” Anna is driven by a primal instinct, which is repressed by Marks’s cold conservatism. Mark proclaims “God is evil” and succumbs to adultery and abuse. Throughout the film there’s a shot of him gripping his wife and son’s torso, a way to out his dominance and control their body. After the infamous subway passage scene, Anna is finally able to let go of her inner evil and embraces it.

Żuławski’s directorial style is electric yet graceful.  The DOP, Bruno Nuytten, uses imaginative camerawork. In various points, he shifts from handheld and shaky camerawork to fluid, kinetic shots while following the couple around. The music by Andrzej Korzunski gives the movie an extra layer of uneasiness while we see the interwoven lives of Mark and Anna unravel and we’re speeding alongside them crashing to a forceful split. Neill and Adjani’s performances are mesmerizing, and they completely submerge themselves in the unfolding hysteria. The FX master Carlo Rambaldi’s humanoid-tentacled-sex-quid monster is mainly shown in dark, shadowy shots which amps the level of gore (Rambaldi is also responsible for giving us the cuddliest of aliens E.T. The Extra- Terrestrial).

It almost seems redundant to mention it, but the comparison is easily made. Possession was the inspiration for Lars von Trier to make Antichrist (2009). Both directors use the horror genre to capture marital strife; the scenes  are sexually explicit, and show self-mutilation and gruesome gore.

Żuławski kept the atmosphere dense with subcutaneous tension throughout the film. Possession is a two-hour rollercoaster of emotions and wailing, screaming, violence, sex, and bodily fluids. It shows the complexity of human relationships. Żuławski doesn’t give you the answers. The film is open to interpretation. The demons are not an outside force, but sleep in the hidden depths of our being. At least it will give you some food for thought on your intimate relationships.

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWbJbOu9Nxc”]

 

Giselle Defares enjoys Googling random things, late night conversations, and can’t stray far from the impulse to write it all down. She writes on fashion, film and pop culture here.

 

Seed & Spark: Gaslighting, Demonic Possession, and the Unreliable Female Brain

I love a good psychological thriller, especially if it involves insanity. The fear that I might be insane, that my perception might be warped, that instead of calmly walking to the bus stop, I am actually muttering to myself (scraping my clawed fingers along the yellow wallpaper) is a driving force in my creative process. The boundary between perception and reality is fertile ground for filmmaking, but I wonder why it’s always women whose brains get warped or permeated? I know our lady parts are conduits to Satan, and old Hollywood liked us vulnerable and prone to hysteria… But are we really getting tricked all the time, or is there a feminist edge to the gaslight thriller?

Juno Temple in "Magic Magic"
Juno Temple in Magic Magic

This is a guest post by Elizabeth Brooks

I love a good psychological thriller, especially if it involves insanity. The fear that I might be insane, that my perception might be warped, that instead of calmly walking to the bus stop, I am actually muttering to myself (scraping my clawed fingers along the yellow wallpaper) is a driving force in my creative process. The boundary between perception and reality is fertile ground for filmmaking, but I wonder why it’s always women whose brains get warped or permeated? I know our lady parts are conduits to Satan, and old Hollywood liked us vulnerable and prone to hysteria… But are we really getting tricked all the time, or is there a feminist edge to the gaslight thriller?

Gaslighting is a psychological term that actually comes from cinema. In the 1944 film Gaslight, an evil husband convinces Ingrid Bergman that she’s losing her mind, so he can steal her inherited jewels. (That film was based on an earlier film and a play before that, but let’s give the credit to Ingrid B. because she made it glamorous). Gaslighting is a form of manipulation and abuse where the victim’s sanity is questioned, and they are made to doubt their perception of reality. In real life, the use of gaslighting to undermine a victim is the terrain of deranged psychopaths and sociopaths, but like a lot of twisted stuff, it makes a great film plot.

Ingrid Bergman in "Gaslight"
Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight

 

Take, for example, The Innocents from 1961. Miss Giddens, a blonde and naïve nanny accepts a job to care for orphans at a creepy English estate. The children behave strangely, and we’re not sure if Miss Giddens is insane or if ghosts have possessed the little ones (spoiler: the kids are possessed). Gaslighting creates unstable narration, a protagonist who doesn’t trust her own brain. The trick works best when it catches the audience. We see through the eyes of the heroine, and it makes us paranoid: Is she crazy? Am I crazy? The tension delights us.

Deborah Kerr in "The Innocents"
Deborah Kerr in The Innocents

 

In the classic film Rosemary’s Baby, Rosemary Woodhouse is paranoid about her pregnancy pain, her neighbor’s herbal remedies and her husband’s secret plotting. The trick to good gaslighting is to hover on the edge of normalcy, to implicate the audience in the character’s insanity. But, like Miss Giddens, Rosemary was right to be paranoid. She had been raped by the devil and was carrying his child.

Mia Farrow in "Rosemary's Baby"
Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby

 

What I’m trying to say is that classic cinema is really hostile towards women, constantly questioning their ability to perceive reality, calling up the old “hysterical women” stereotype. These women, though, aren’t crazy. They live in fucked-up supernatural worlds. In that sense, a film like The Innocents actually affirms its female characters: Miss Giddens is a capable detective, in spite of her swooning and fainting.

Magic Magic, the best film you didn’t see in 2013, plays on some of the traditional gaslighting structures, but takes them in new directions. (You didn’t see the film because Sony got pissed that it wasn’t an out-of-the-box horror thriller and chose not to release it). Like The Innocents, it stars a young blonde, Alicia (Juno Temple), in the creepy and isolated environment of a vacation cottage on an island in Southern Chile. Her companions are hostile strangers, friends of a cousin who mysteriously left the group and returned to the city. The camera lingers in mirrors and paranoia blossoms.

Michael Cera’s character, Brink, relentlessly hits on Alicia in deranged and unsettling ways, one of them involving a dead parrot. Alicia retaliates by pussificating him, i.e. suffocating him in her crotch, but it’s not really her who’s doing it—she is in some kind of a hypnotic trance. The film hovers on the edge of sanity, builds layers of unreality, but it doesn’t reveal and redeem. Magic Magic ends with a sharp turn; instead of affirming good female detective work, it doubles back and eats its tail. I won’t say more because I want you to see the film, but it’s a real creeper.

Gaslighting isn’t inherently gendered. It’s just that our culture prefers watching a woman on the brink. Weird films, art films and experimental cinema have been writing weak-minded men for decades. My favorite example of a man in the gaslight is Possession, a 1981 French horror film by Andrzej Zulawski.

Isabelle Adjani in "Possession"
Isabelle Adjani in Possession

 

The basic plot is that this guy, Mark, comes back from a sketchy business trip (briefcases stuffed with cash) and notices that his wife Anna is acting really strange. She tells him that she wants a divorce and then she moves out. He hires a private investigator to follow her, and reality starts to shimmer like the tarmac on a hot day. Actors play multiple characters. Dialog becomes disjointed. Turn a corner, and you’re back where you started. We’re not sure if we’re inside Mark’s paranoid mind.

It’s hard to say that Possession is a true feminist film because it does turn out that Anna is having lots of sex with a demon/alien and she pukes extraordinary amounts of green, slimy bile in a subway station…but at least it’s Mark who gets confused. And Anna and the alien do win in the end, though it’s hard to say if she wins or if the alien devours her completely like it does Charlize Theron in The Astronaut’s Wife.

Given these examples, one might conclude that men can gaslight women, but only aliens can gaslight men. I say: stay hopeful, female fans of the supernatural thriller. One of these days, the women will overpower the aliens.

headshotElizabeth Brooks is the director of Kibuki: Spirits in Zanzibar. She is a mixed media artist and a member of the San Francisco experimental cinema community. Her work explores the boundary between fact and fiction, using film, video, writing, and sound to blur the line between memory and imagination. She holds an MA in African Studies from the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London and an MFA in Photographic and Electronic Media from the Maryland Institute College of Art. She was a 2010 recipient of a Fulbright grant to Tanzania. She currently works as the Youth Curriculum Manager at the San Francisco Film Society, and her bilingual children’s book, Mama Has a Job, was recently selected for publication by Mkuki na Nyota publishers in Tanzania.