Matthew Holness’ chillingly atmospheric directorial debut
Possum (2018) tells the tale of a strange loner named Philip (an impressively
unnerving Sean Harris), who carries an arachnid puppet with a human head,
bundled inside a leather holdall. Through the voice-over recitations of a children’s poem, we comprehend that the puppet is called
‘Possum’ and it pretty much represents Philip’s distressing personal trauma. The
polemical nature of his puppetry has driven Philip to retreat to his moribund
hometown and dilapidated childhood home, still occupied by the repellent Uncle and
puppeteer Maurice (Alum Armstrong). Earlier on a public train, Philip
encounters an innocuous teenager who is soon pronounced ‘missing’. Gravelly voice, scouting tour of the town's squalid quarters plus the concoction of weird
mannerisms naturally brings suspicion upon Philip. He seems to fulfill both the
role of victim and perpetrator as the damaged childhood threatens to wholly
poison his adulthood experience.
Comedian-turned-film-maker Matthew Holness joins the
ranks of fellow Brits Peter Strickland and Ben Wheatley in demonstrating his unique
skill to capitalize on an unwholesome atmosphere that's simmering with ambiguous terror.
Blending the gothic scares of Hammer horror, these contemporary British horrors
also fix their focus on social realism, bringing into view the derelict wastelands and
stagnant lives (shot in bleak Norfolk locations). It is
particularly interesting to see Holness debuting with a horror feature since
his previous work include marvelous TV sitcom, “Garth Marenghi's Darkplace”, a
horror spoof series. Holness’ deranged vision in Possum, however, is anything
but comic. Furthermore, he tries to emulate the post-apocalyptic feel of David
Lynch’s Eraserhead (1977) and psychological horror of David Cronenberg’s Spider
(2002).
Heavy on macabre atmosphere and thin on plot development,
Possum opens with silent-horror aesthetics, the opening credits unfurling
against grainy images from the film. Much of the film’s
narrative accounts Philip wandering around the empty, decaying fields of the
town, which once harbored military barracks. He tries to find a place to
dispose the leather bag and enough tension is generated from the question of
what’s inside the bag: could it be the severed head or body parts of the
teenager Philip gazes with his beady eyes? Nevertheless, the thing inside the
bag comes across as reflection of Philip’s traumatic memories. The
grotesque-looking puppet is made with realistically shaped spider legs and at
its center is the pale, lifelike mask of a man’s face. Philip hides the bag
amidst tangled, spidery branches of a tree, throws it into stagnant waterways.
Despite the puppeteer’s fixation, the puppet returns back to his room or hangs
on the wall. Gradually, as Philip finds it hard to relieve the trauma of the
past, the arachnid puppet even appears to come to life. Such Jungian representations
of the tortured protagonist are less ominous compared to true monstrosity
lurking inside Maurice. He is bully as well as a comforting figure in Philip’s
life and the murky nature of his relationship with Philip is eventually
revealed through a schematic climax.
Possum is largely watchable for its
perpetually unsettling surroundings that repeatedly showcase montage of
neglected buildings, weedy gardens, and muddy landscapes. The creepy
strangeness evoked by the amalgamation of stark imagery and dizzying sound design
subliminally projects a language of unrest and mayhem. Unfortunately, the very
thin plotting and unambiguous ending dilutes the overall effect of the movie.
Rather than confronting Philip’s horrendous memories, Holness opts for
unnecessary expository visuals in the final stretch to push it towards a smooth
resolution. And for all its magnificent series of evocative visuals, the
narrative’s emotional space seems to be as trapped as the puppet confined to
the bag. Overall, Possum (85 minutes) is watchable for its sensorial intensity
and knock-out performance from Sean Harris.
Trailer
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