In this pre-EXORCIST possession thriller, well-to-do New York divorcée socialite Norah Benson (SHIRLEY MACLAINE) is horrified to discover that the younger brother she dotes on Joel (PERRY KING) is possessed by… wait for it…a poor person! (Her repeated, panicked complaints that Mr.Tonio Perez has "entered" her brother's body also suggest that she's worried that he might have gone gay too). Forget that this no longer roaming spirit also has a nasty habit of decapitating women; Norah seems more taken aback by the fact that he's Puerto Rican and hails from the wrong side of town. This is one deranged movie folks. The first half, with its bizarre cuts and awkward freeze-frames comes off as so early-seventies twisted that you're tempted to forgive the slacky pace (a Santeria ceremony scene goes on for what seems like centuries). And for most of the running time, lil' bro PERRY comes off as your average pouty, privileged, ne'er-do-well with a hangover rather than any real threat to Norah and her kids. Then BAM! The film's final act, which takes place in an isolated beach house, has got to be one of the most eff'd up things ever allowed to be filmed. KING suddenly appears clad in leather with a thick accent and a switch blade and begins smacking Norah around, forcing her son to dance a naked jig on a coffee table and her now crying daughter to eat dog food out of a bowl on the ground. This circus of the mental scars is all observed by his decidedly ineffective psychiatrist's decapitated head which rests dripping on the refrigerator. I've seen many an insane movie before, but this eleventh hour lycanthropic switch from JACKIE COLLINS to JACK KETCHUM is like being bitch slapped across the face by a granny you believed to be comatose. This film's relative obscurity can be blamed on its overshadowing by the cultural Juggernaught THE EXORCIST, but the truth is its overall tone is defiantly alienating and MACLAINE's spoiled, arc-less character is difficult to route for. It's hard for me to diss a movie that is so liberal with the beheadings, but what's missing here that THE EXORCIST had in spades is a real sincere belief in the supernatural. MACLAINE is warned as much by a man who offers to exorcise the lingering lout from her brother. He tells her "You have to believe to make it work" and I think the same applies here. THE POSSESSION OF JOEL DELANEY is not without effective and certainly shocking scenes, but like its main character, it seems to be more terrified of poverty, discomfort and earthly unpleasantness than the world of the unknown.
The Possession of Joel Delaney
In this pre-EXORCIST possession thriller, well-to-do New York divorcée socialite Norah Benson (SHIRLEY MACLAINE) is horrified to discover that the younger brother she dotes on Joel (PERRY KING) is possessed by… wait for it…a poor person! (Her repeated, panicked complaints that Mr.Tonio Perez has "entered" her brother's body also suggest that she's worried that he might have gone gay too). Forget that this no longer roaming spirit also has a nasty habit of decapitating women; Norah seems more taken aback by the fact that he's Puerto Rican and hails from the wrong side of town. This is one deranged movie folks. The first half, with its bizarre cuts and awkward freeze-frames comes off as so early-seventies twisted that you're tempted to forgive the slacky pace (a Santeria ceremony scene goes on for what seems like centuries). And for most of the running time, lil' bro PERRY comes off as your average pouty, privileged, ne'er-do-well with a hangover rather than any real threat to Norah and her kids. Then BAM! The film's final act, which takes place in an isolated beach house, has got to be one of the most eff'd up things ever allowed to be filmed. KING suddenly appears clad in leather with a thick accent and a switch blade and begins smacking Norah around, forcing her son to dance a naked jig on a coffee table and her now crying daughter to eat dog food out of a bowl on the ground. This circus of the mental scars is all observed by his decidedly ineffective psychiatrist's decapitated head which rests dripping on the refrigerator. I've seen many an insane movie before, but this eleventh hour lycanthropic switch from JACKIE COLLINS to JACK KETCHUM is like being bitch slapped across the face by a granny you believed to be comatose. This film's relative obscurity can be blamed on its overshadowing by the cultural Juggernaught THE EXORCIST, but the truth is its overall tone is defiantly alienating and MACLAINE's spoiled, arc-less character is difficult to route for. It's hard for me to diss a movie that is so liberal with the beheadings, but what's missing here that THE EXORCIST had in spades is a real sincere belief in the supernatural. MACLAINE is warned as much by a man who offers to exorcise the lingering lout from her brother. He tells her "You have to believe to make it work" and I think the same applies here. THE POSSESSION OF JOEL DELANEY is not without effective and certainly shocking scenes, but like its main character, it seems to be more terrified of poverty, discomfort and earthly unpleasantness than the world of the unknown.