Movie Review : Possessor (2020)
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I don’t know about you, but I was raised with the idea that holding a job was bedrock of respectability. I still remember today my parents ordering me to beg for my shitty grocery job that gave me tennis elbow back, because I would never learn personal responsibility if I didn’t. So we grew up with a lot of fucked up feelings towards works Brandon Cronenberg’s latest movie Possessor is about these feelings and the warped place work occupies in our lives.
Possessor tells the story of Tasya Vos (Andrea Riseborough), a professional assassin who takes control of other people’s bodies through a mysterious soul swapping machine to do her deed. Broken and hollowed out by work, Tas is trying to reconnect with her husband and son to preserve what she had left of her humanity. But her next assignment, the killing of a rich CEO and her daughter, proves to be the ultimate threat to her fading identity.
Figure it out, chief
Long story short: Possessor is a very stylist, surreal hired killer movie. You’ve been told that story a million times before, just not in this particular, creative way. It both hurts and serves the movie. On one hand, Possessor is almost completely devoid of powerful narrative twists. Little about what it says will surprise you. On the other, it doesn’t really fucking matter, doesn’t it? Possessor doesn’t stand out by what it says, but rather how it says it.
For example, there is a typical Cronenbergian surreal scene two thirds into the movie where Tasya’s host Collin (Christopher Abbott) rips her face off in some kind of netherworld to wear it over his own. Visually, this is really fucking cool if you’re into horror, but it is only meant to symbolized that he regained control over his consciousness and access to her own. It could’ve been expressed in a myriad of ways, but Brandon Cronenberg decided to make it fun.
I kind of missed movies where everything makes sense, but nothing is broken down into digestible information. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen one be as ballsy as Possessor gets with it. Figuring it out by yourself is rewarding in a way exposition dumps aren’t. Sure, it could’ve tackled a more ambitious topic than a fucking hired killer, but I’d rather watch a movie that does things interestingly than one that’s trying to please too many people.
Symbolism ain’t for fools, broskis.
Identity & work
The main theme of Possessor is manufactured identity. I’m not being clever for figuring it out, Brandon Cronenberg openly talks about it in every interview. It is much more interesting to watch that theme being developed throughout the movie than to follow Possessor’s actual plot. Particularly in relationship to work and the social validation that occupying a function provides. In Possessor, holding a job is as important as it is fucking soul rotting.
Of course, Tasya is the easier example. She spends her working hours literally BEING someone else, which jumbles her memories a little more each time. When she visits her estranged son & husband, Tasya has to practice being herself. Her job benefits from her being a blank slate to optimally slip into her mark’s persona. Tasya’s self and role become completely intertwined, which is ironically what she does to other people. Obliterate self for function.
I wouldn’t call Possessor a socialist movie or anything like that. It doesn’t offer enough of a solution to the alienation is argues for. Brandon Cronenberg merely says that we’re fucked and that spending too much time beside ourselves to accomplish a function is eventually going to rewire our brain and he’s not wrong. It claims “the world is fucked” not “here’s an alternative ideology by which to live your life” and I kind of dug that message. It’s heartfelt.
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I’m sure you figured it out already: I kind of liked Possessor. It might’ve been too humble for its own good and aimed low with the hired killer trope, but it was a refreshing piece of storytelling. In a way, it preached by example: Possessor cannot be defined by its function (a hired killer movie with horror elements), it’s an exercise in subjectivity. You’ve seen films with the same plot, but you’ve never experienced such visceral subjectivity while watching them.
Not ever.
