40 Years Later, Possession Is Recut, Restored, and Ready for Its Horror Audience

When Andrzej Zulawski’s Possession finally opened in theaters around two-and-a-half years after debuting at the 34th Cannes Film Festival, critics, unfamiliar with horror movies to the point of lacking qualification to cover them, plead the fifth by pivoting to Roman Polanski’s Repulsion. Vincent Canby of the New York Times wrote that Zulawski’s film made “no sense whatsoever”; Harry Haun, clutching his pearls for the Daily News, described it as an “extravagantly sick-making portrayal of a woman’s dizzying-descent into madness and murder.” Both of them, whether explicitly or implicitly, dismissed Possession as inferior to Repulsion.
Let’s be fair to these critics: In 1983, they saw Zulawski’s vision trimmed by 40 minutes and recut into what writer, filmmaker and scholar of Eastern European cult cinema Daniel Bird calls “a conventional horror film,” speaking with Paste earlier this month. It’s also valid to note that Repulsion and Possession share DNA. But molecular relationships aside, Possession is in a different classification from Repulsion, and frankly from most other horror movies. As if proving the point, Metrograph Pictures premiered a new 4K restoration of Zulawski’s masterwork earlier this month, theatrically as well as digitally; the film has enjoyed wider distribution since.
This version of the film, Bird says, is not a conventional horror film, by either the 1980s’ standards or those of today.
Because today, Possession has an audience and a reputation. There will be no brush-offs or dismissals among new reviewers, or if there are, they’ll be in a minority. This is, after all, the era of horror appreciation. Beginning in the mid-2010s, increasing attention has been paid to horror as mainstream audiences and critics alike slowly awakened to the realization that the genre has everything and more to say about us and about culture, a truth that horror aficionados have known since they were disobeying their parents’ wishes, staying up late at night to devour Tales From the Crypt. If there is a better moment for Possession to remerge shiny and new, it hasn’t happened yet.
There’s another, more urgent reason the movie’s reemergence is so vital. The era of horror appreciation has invited the rise of “elevated horror,” a horror niche the Canbys of the world would have loved for being art-forward and horror-light; what they are about is never in question and how they are about it is never ambiguous or messy. “All horror films now have a subtext, spelled out in bold letters, underlined, to make life easier for critics—to legitimize the genre,” says Bird. “The great thing about Possession is that there is a murkiness, which by Zulawski’s admission was unintentional, which has resulted in viewers projecting their own meanings—which is great.” No legwork is needed to understand what, say, Hereditary tries to tell audiences. Understanding Possession takes rigorous effort. A strong stomach helps.
Bird recounts a moment of anger when Zulawski read the copy on Possession’s VHS jacket when the movie came out on video; the author put it on a spectrum between arthouse and grindhouse. This sat poorly with Zulawski, who said, in Bird’s recollection, that “the real horror was a couple breaking up and not knowing why.” For those reading horror movies on surface levels only, this may feel like quite a take, even for the author; Possession is gooey, gory and grotesque, and on romantic matters it’s plain old icky. But Zulawski, of course, is right, and TF1 Studio’s Céline Charrenton, who helped supervise the film’s restoration, draws much the same conclusion.
“I think this film uses the pretext of the fantasy genre to talk about love and especially the end of love,” Charrenton told Paste, “which can drive you crazy to the point of mutilation and even death for the character of Sam Neill.”