Many artists with famous parents would look to distance themselves from the works of their illustrious progenitor. There will always be a comparison between parent and child that is rarely complimentary to the younger. This is not a concern that appears to bother Brandon Cronenberg, the son of body horror godfather David. Far from shying away from the association, Brandon has taken up the mantle with enthusiasm. His two films so far have been fuelled by a fascination with the nexus between the body and technology. If his first, Antiviral, was his Shivers, then Possessor falls somewhere between Videodrome and eXistenZ. This chilly, surreal, and brutal sci-fi horror throws a thousand ideas into the air without really examining any in details, but is bold, beautiful and horrific in equal measure.
Tasya Vos (Andrea Riseborough) operates as an assassin for a shadowy (aren’t they all?) corporation that uses neural implants to inhabit the body of people. The ‘possessed’ person carries out the hit against the actual target, before killing themselves at the operative’s behest. The verdict is murder-suicide and the client is free of suspicion. Vos seems to be having parts of her identity eroded by each assignment, and when she is hired to inhabit the body of Colin (Christopher Abbott) the problem gets infinitely worse. The contract is to kill Colin’s girlfriend Ava Parse (Tuppence Middleton) and her father John (Sean Bean), the founder of a data harvesting company. However, Colin fights back and a protracted battle for his mind and body ensues.
Possessor sets out its modus operandi straight away with an extraordinary opening scene that sees Vos carry out a hit in the guise of a young woman (Gabrielle Graham). Loaded with tension, beautifully shot and tumultuously violent, this is Cronenberg establishing the film’s normality; a cable plugged into an oozing port in a skull, multiple stab wounds, and bullets ploughing through faces. That this is Vos’ world before things go awry is an enticing and troubling prospect. And things can get much, much worse.
Riseborough is the ideal choice for Tasya Vos. Pale and ethereal – there is something of the Tilda Swinton about her – she plays haunted in a very convincing way. Crucially, she makes the viewer care about the character despite the nature of her profession. Abbott excels in a tricky role in which he is at times playing Colin, Vos, Vos as Colin, and Vos and Colin at once. There is a vulnerability there that is missing from most of the other characters, one separate from the fragile pulp of the body which exists in the world of Possessor to be manipulated, penetrated, skewered, and hammered apart like a piñata.
There is so much churning beneath the exterior of Possessor. The data harvesting angle seems like it ties into the theme of identity but isn’t explored. The murder-suicides may be a metaphor for radicalisation or media manipulation. There is certainly a thesis to be written about the mutability of gender. Perhaps the film’s most hair-raising moment outside of the unflinching violence is a scene in which Colin and Vos struggle over his body while he has sex with Ava. Bathed in neon blue and filmed with eerie passivity even as it throbs with fraught dissonance, it plays out as the most disturbing threesome ever. It echoes scenes in Her and Blade Runner 2049 that toy with a similar idea, but strips away eroticism in favour of nightmarish imagery. Again, it feels like the most interesting themes are lurking somewhere in this realm but Cronenberg glances at them and moves on. It seems an odd criticism to argue that a film has too much going on, but there is an intellectual restlessness beneath the glacial style that could have been more meaningfully indulged.
As a spectacle, there is has been little that matches Possessor in recent memory. It is not only incredibly distinctive visually, but throbs with piercing menace. In every situation, even the most mundane, Cronenberg finds a way to keep the viewer on edge. Don’t be surprised if some of the imagery contained within goes on to live in the cultural memory like the work of Cronenberg Sr. Whether there is anything as indelible as Scanners‘ exploding head, or Brundlefly, or James Woods inserting a video tape into his stomach remains to be seen. But with David Cronenberg’s last film being the lysergic Hollywood satire Maps to the Stars back in 2014, Brandon has the opportunity to make the body horror crown his own. Possessor is ample evidence that he is not just a young pretender. Long live the new flesh.
Screened as part of BFI London Film Festival 2020 and in cinemas Fri Nov 27 2020