There’s nothing new about The Possession, in which an innocent young girl becomes the vessel of choice for an evil spirit. Guttural groans, nightgown scenes and general creepiness ensue. Co-produced by horror-master Sam Raimi, The Possession is, in a way, a Jewish version of The Exorcist: heavier on the possession, lighter on the exorcism.
If you’ve seen the spooky promotional poster you’ll probably be irritated by the claim that the film is based on a true story. But it does, in fact, have some (very loose) grounding in a true account of strange incidents supposedly caused by a “dybbuk box” believed to contain a malevolent spirit. The film opens with a family struggling through the aftermath of a divorce. When the dad, Clyde (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), and his two daughters stop by a yard sale, little do they know the real ordeal is only now beginning. Of all things, 10-year-old Em (Natasha Calis) is drawn to a mysterious wooden box engraved with Hebrew letters. She eventually manages to open the box and as she grows increasingly obsessed with it, her behavior turns violent and anti-social (not to mention ravenous). While others are quick to blame the divorce and suggest therapy, Clyde realizes something has a hold on his daughter and starts looking for answers by watching exorcism videos on YouTube and researching Jewish folklore. (In case anybody thinks the young rabbi in the film looks familiar, he is indeed Jewish reggae-rap superstar Matisyahu.)
Seemingly in his element, Danish director Ole Bornedal stretches out the suspense, making good use of quiet lulls before unloading. Unfortunately, the build-up is better than the final showdown, which despite an arsenal of wind machines is just underwhelming. The strong backstory and performances of the family are really what keep this film from falling into the category of paranormal garbage. It may be predictable and formulaic, but by not trying to reinvent the wheel, Bornedal succeeds in producing a very watchable film in a genre that often turns viewers away, in disgust just as much as fear. Marissa Smith