Possession. (18.)
Directed by Andrzej Zulawski.
Starring Isabelle Adjani, Sam Neill, Heinz Bennent, Margit Carstensen, Shaun Lawton and Carl Duering. 1981. Out on Blu-ray. 124 mins.
This is not a review, just a notification of existence. As the people at Second Sight were nice enough to send me a review copy of its first UK Blu-ray release I cannot ignore it, even though my attempt to sit through it was a bit of a disaster. It was one of those occasions when you sit through a film, totally fail to get it but by the end are struck by the fear that there was something there that you completely failed to get.
The big mistake was trying to watch it quietly, late at night, after everyone was asleep. This is not a film that can be watched in any way half-heartedly or at half volume; moderation is not an option. It starts in hysteria and just keeps pushing until reality seems to unspool. Its opening scene is a couple, Adjani and Neill, in a slanging match and that just goes on for the whole film. He’s just come back from a business trip, but not just any old business trip because he’s involved in some kind of espionage. He’s back in his old city, but not just any old city but Cold War, big wall, Berlin. Adjani is cheating on him with some creepy German new age philosopher, but not just with him but also a strange tentacled creature in a dingy apartment in sight of the wall.
This already gonzo scenario is delivered in a subjective frenzy by Polish director Zulawski who really makes no allowances to audience in terms of explaining what is happening or what the characters’ motivations might be. Possession is a default horror film, designated thus because it’s the closest term that fits. Adjani’s performance is certainly committed and both she and Neill throw themselves into their roles with a reckless, perhaps foolhardy, abandon.
Possession shares the unique distinction of having won a prize at Cannes (in 1981 Adjani was awarded Best Actress for her performance in this and Quartet) and being designated a Video Nasty in the UK. A Cannes Jury and the Department of Public Prosecution are two bodies whose judgement is equally suspect.
The film struck me as demented gibberish but stylishly made gibberish. I can’t imagine why you would want to get into Zulawski’s head but having being left outside I did feel a pang of exclusion. I have committed myself to another go at it, though I think I will give it a year.
Extras.
The disc comes with an impressive array of extras. There is the Making Of documentary; interviews with the director, the producer and the composer; commentary by the director or co-writer and a featurette on the Berlin locations, now and then, and the differences between the full length cut and the recut version released in the states. Even the man who did the poster gets his own little feature.
Directed by Andrzej Zulawski.
Starring Isabelle Adjani, Sam Neill, Heinz Bennent, Margit Carstensen, Shaun Lawton and Carl Duering. 1981. Out on Blu-ray. 124 mins.
This is not a review, just a notification of existence. As the people at Second Sight were nice enough to send me a review copy of its first UK Blu-ray release I cannot ignore it, even though my attempt to sit through it was a bit of a disaster. It was one of those occasions when you sit through a film, totally fail to get it but by the end are struck by the fear that there was something there that you completely failed to get.
The big mistake was trying to watch it quietly, late at night, after everyone was asleep. This is not a film that can be watched in any way half-heartedly or at half volume; moderation is not an option. It starts in hysteria and just keeps pushing until reality seems to unspool. Its opening scene is a couple, Adjani and Neill, in a slanging match and that just goes on for the whole film. He’s just come back from a business trip, but not just any old business trip because he’s involved in some kind of espionage. He’s back in his old city, but not just any old city but Cold War, big wall, Berlin. Adjani is cheating on him with some creepy German new age philosopher, but not just with him but also a strange tentacled creature in a dingy apartment in sight of the wall.
This already gonzo scenario is delivered in a subjective frenzy by Polish director Zulawski who really makes no allowances to audience in terms of explaining what is happening or what the characters’ motivations might be. Possession is a default horror film, designated thus because it’s the closest term that fits. Adjani’s performance is certainly committed and both she and Neill throw themselves into their roles with a reckless, perhaps foolhardy, abandon.
Possession shares the unique distinction of having won a prize at Cannes (in 1981 Adjani was awarded Best Actress for her performance in this and Quartet) and being designated a Video Nasty in the UK. A Cannes Jury and the Department of Public Prosecution are two bodies whose judgement is equally suspect.
The film struck me as demented gibberish but stylishly made gibberish. I can’t imagine why you would want to get into Zulawski’s head but having being left outside I did feel a pang of exclusion. I have committed myself to another go at it, though I think I will give it a year.
Extras.
The disc comes with an impressive array of extras. There is the Making Of documentary; interviews with the director, the producer and the composer; commentary by the director or co-writer and a featurette on the Berlin locations, now and then, and the differences between the full length cut and the recut version released in the states. Even the man who did the poster gets his own little feature.
