Possum and the Unyielding Horror of One’s Past

More often than not, we forget that horror can be so much more than a montage of cheap jumpscares and pointless displays of unnecessary violence. But on rare occurrences, horror can serve as a direct conduit for examining personal struggle. Matthew Holness’s Possum is one of those occurrences.

At first, you will likely be unsure of what Possum is even about. All we are able to absorb is the basic setup, that our protagonist, Philip, (played by the unappreciated gem that is Sean Harris of Mission Impossible fame) is returning somewhere. All he has with him? A leather bag. It is what lies within this bag that is the basis for the soon-to-come mind-bending experience.

Philip arrives to a decrepit and overrun house deep in the British heartlands. The house, his childhood home, is occupied by Maurice, Philip’s mysterious and malevolent uncle. And then there is the bag. Philip oddly treats the object as a living entity, often leaving it in its own room, or hides it so that it doesn’t disturb him. We soon learn, through cryptic dialogue between Philip and Maurice, that Philip is a puppeteer, who was disgraced following a controversial performance. The cause of this disgrace? The puppet inside the leather bag.

Following this revelation, the film spirals into a surrealist nightmare of bizarre narrative structures, and haunting visuals so startling that you will want to unsee several scenes.

The unnatural turn to the abstract isn’t without purpose. It is all rooted in Harris’ rather unorthodox performance. “Awkward” is the sole word that can be used to describe the mannerisms of Philip. His stature is stiff and rigid. His speech is minimal and reserved. There are things being hidden beneath the surface of this unusual man.

Our portal into Philip’s psyche is the puppet. I will avoid descriptions in order to prevent spoilers, but know this, its look is reminiscent of something nearly all children fear. In multiple attempts, Philip tries to either abandon or destroy the puppet. However, no matter what elements he puts it through, the puppet always finds its way back to Philip. While Philip clearly holds a constant fear over the puppet, on more than one occasion, there are moments between the two that can almost be describe as a sort of intimacy.

There is a force beyond Philip’s control that keeps him bound to the puppet. The puppet is a monument to his traumatic past, and serves as a constant reminder that it will always follow him.

Although occasional, the horror of Possum is not found from jumpscares. Atmosphere is the name of the game. The eerie score amplifies the unsettled mood. The decrepit rural town evokes visuals that are reminiscent of Lynne Ramsay and Andrei Tarkovsky, but with a decrepit, rotted twist. When something disturbing lurches center frame, there is no cutaway to escape. We, like Philip, are bound to the unnatural beings set in front of us.

Possum is not for the faint of heart. No matter what you take away from it, you will walk away as a different person. Some may even be inclined to walk away due to the constant aura of discomfort emitted from the screen. But if you choose to stay, you will be confronted by pain.

The only warning you will get is, as said by Maurice, “It’s face…”

Possum (2018) ★★★★★