REVIEW: Possum

 

I've been on something of a horror trip lately, catching up not only on recent releases but several from the last few years which I'd never quite got round to watching. Possum is a 2018 film written and directed by Matthew Holness, based on his earlier short story published in The New Uncanny (which I now simply must get hold of and read). If, like me, you know Holness best as his alter ego Garth Marenghi (author, prophet, dreamweaver) then Possum is entirely unlike the kind of horror film you'd expect from him. Garth Marenghi's Darkplace was a ludicrously over-the-top, deliberately hammy, parodic horror series. Possum, in contrast, is utterly humourless. It's quite astonishingly grim and serious in its presentation and subject matter.

Possum stars the underrated Sean Harris as Philip, a children's entertainer who we meet on his way back to his grim Norfolk home, having been thoroughly disgraced by an unknown incident in his work. Philip is a puppeteer, a creepy enough medium when done well, and he doesn't seem to be a performer at the top of his game.We never learn the nature of what happened, and we never learn how Philip normally lives his life. When we meet him, he's in dire straits, returning back to the rotten house he grew up in, still crumbling and ashen from the fire that killed his parents. Forced to live with his bullying and decrepit uncle who brought him up, Philip begins reverting to an almost childlike state, losing himself as he returns to the site of his cruel and traumatic upbringing.

To make matters worse, a teenaged boy has gone missing, and the shuffling, mumbling Philip is an easy target for suspicions. Oh, and Philip is being haunted all the while by Possum, a nightmarish puppet of a character he invented in childhood, that he lugs around in a duffle bag. We can assume that Possum had something to do with whatever incident led to Philip being kicked out of the puppeteer trade, but it's real significance is as a manifestation of everything that preys on his damaged psyche. He repeatedly tries to dispose of the puppet, even burning it, but Possum somehow turns up again and again, lurking in his tiny bedroom, even invading his dreams.

Possum is a deeply unsettling film, haunting and uncomfortable in a way few films these days are allowed to be. Holness has said that he was inspired by monochrome silent horror films of the 20s and 30s, and the deeply disturbing British public information films of the 70s. There's a definite feeling of the latter here, the same seedy, threatening version of reality that those short PSAs subjected kids to back then. (Thank god I only ever saw them secondhand, as an example of how utterly weird British television used to be.) There's a disturbing uncertainty as to how much of what we see is immediately real, how much is a result of Philip's deteriorating sanity, and how much is the truth slowly being uncovered.

Sean Harris is exceptional, giving a performance weighed down with a tangible sadness, perpetually on the edge of full breakdown. Philip is discomforting and untrustworthy throughout, even as he is a wholly sympathetic protagonist. Almost as good and even more distressing is Alun Armstrong as his black-nailed, yellow-toothed Uncle Maurice, a viciously cruel and loathsome character. Yet even between these two men who clearly hate each other's guts there are moments of tenderness, which only makes the cruelties worse.

There's not a great deal to the plot of Possum, but what there is keeps you guessing, wrongfooting you by leaking just enough information to lead you to the obvious but wrong conclusions about what's going on with Philip. Holness's direction is complemented by subtly uncomfortable electronic music and sound by the Radiophonic Workshop, also helping lend a 70s texture to the film. Possum itself is a remarkable creation, a revolting mishmash of spider-like limbs and unidentifiable bits of discarded taxidermy, crowned by a chalk-white cast of Harris's own face. Yet, even as disturbing this creation and its manifestations are, it's the performances by Harris and Armstrong that stick with you long after watching.