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.

WHO REVIEW: Once and Future: Coda - The Final Act

(A few spoilers herein.)

The Once and Future series comes to a belated conclusion, marking Doctor Who's 61st anniversary, which a nice enough idea I guess. I lost interest in this special series, intended to mark the 60th anniversary last year, and never caught the original ending. I grew tired of the increasingle arbitrary combinations of characters and creatures that Big Finish were throwing in. When it reached a team-up between Jackie Tyler and Lady Christina, I stopped ordering them.

This extra little story was far more tempting, though. For one thing, it's not really a chapter of Once and Future's degeneration story, but a prelude to the upcoming Fugitive Doctor series. You'd call it a backdoor pilot if the series hadn't already been recorded and made ready to go. We still haven't had Jo Martin play the Doctor alone, as here she's sharing the limelight with the War Doctor (spoiler alert I guess, but he's the one was degenerating up and down his timeline). This is an interesting pairing; the two outlier Doctors, both inserted into the continuity retroactively. The numberless Doctors, both of them not quite the Doctor we're used to.

It's a pity, of course, that John Hurt is no longer with us, as having him actually take part in another anniversary story and act against yet another Doctor would be a treat. It's never going to be the same having an impersonator standing in for the real deal. Hats off to Jonathon Carley, though; his impression of Hurt is exceptional. This is the first time I've actually listened to Carley beyond a couple of clips and his appearance on Doctors Assemble during lockdown. It's uncanny, by far the most convincing of all the new-old Doctors. Of course, being a good impressionist isn't enough; fortunately Carley's a solid actor as well.

In fact, I'd go as far as to say that he's better here than Martin in. Not that she's bad, but there are certain lines where her delivery is a little stilted, where it sounds like she's reading from the script. (I know she is reading from a script, but it shouldn't sound like that.) For the most part, though, she's a pleasure to listen to, and while she has to share the limelight with another Doctor, she gets plenty of time to lead the story and show us what her Doctor can do.

The story is simple but rather great. The Fugitive Doctor is sent by her superiors in the Division to track down a time-travelling war criminal and take him out. The War Doctor, from his perspective, is being targeted by a time-travelling assassin. Neither Doctor is aware that their enemy is another version of themselves. They're ideal incarnations to pit against each other: one has let go of his moral code in order to fight the Time War, while the other has yet to develop that code. Neither is quite the Doctor as we've gotten to know them, and are more similar to each other than their many other incarnations (that we've met so far, at least).

Indeed, the alleged ruthlessness of the Fugitive comes across far better here than in her introduction, where she just carried a big gun and played the sort of dirty tricks the Doctor always plays. This is a Doctow who'll raise an army to get the results she wants. The Warrior does the same, although it turns out his judgment and aggression has been affected by outside factors. This is the one element of the story I really didn't like. That's what the War Doctor should be like, he shouldn't need to be pushed into doing it.

Fixing these Doctors up with Benny is a stroke of genius. She's become perhaps the archetypal audio companion, and knows the Doctor just about as well as anyone. I'm fairly sure she's met more versions of the Doctor than anyone now, even if only briefly (I count fifteen - the first nine numbered Doctors, the Twelfth, the Valeyard, Muldwych and Unbound, and now Fugitive and War). She's the best person to hold both these iterations to account when they stray from what, to her and to us, the Doctor stands for. 

Lisa Bowerman is as great and as sardonic as ever, Isabel Stubbs makes for a fine Elizabeth I (who recognises a younger version of the Doctor she met at the 50th, but he doesn't know her) and even Chase Masterson doesn't sound out of place in her random, but welcome, appearance as Vienna Salvatore. As for the decision to include the Voord... well, I'm always partial to a bit of Voord, and while their about the least interesting sounding creatures, they work well enough in the story. Their involvement even ties into the Four Doctors comic event, where we learned that they were involved in the Time War and had their histories tampered with. (Whether this was a deliberate link or just a case of a similar idea cropping up twice, I don't know, but it's a nice touch either way.)

The agency that eventually turns out to have set the Doctors against each other is apparently already well-established in the Time War audios, but the dialogue suggests they're being set up to tangle with the Fugitive Doctor again in her own series. If this release can indeed be viewed as the beginning of that story, then it should be a lot of fun.

Placement: The Fugitive Doctor has already cut ties with the Division, so this is after Doctor Who: Origins. For the War Doctor, it's after the rest of Once and Future, right in the middle of the Time War. For Benny, it's after her adventures with the Unbound Doctor.

WHO REVIEW: Doctor Who: Origins

Prior to Big Finish getting Jo Martin on their expanding roster of Doctors, the only significant appearance of the Fugitive Doctor outside the TV series was this, a 2022 miniseries by Titan Comics. Titan's main Who writer, Jody Houser, scripted the story; she's a steady pair of hands with a good grasp of different Doctors, and her Thirteenth Doctor range was pretty solidly good. Her regular collaborator Roberta Ingranata provides the artwork, with Warnia Sahadewa providing some excellent colours.

The trade edition collects the four issues, plus the nameless strip that was given out for Free Comicbook Day 2022. This is a fun way to start the collection, pitting the Fugitive Doctor against a small-scale but entertaining threat and saving a bunch of kids in the process. It ties in nicely to the real and fictional history of Doctor Who; the Doctor arrives in 1962, implied to be one of her first visits to Earth (at least, that she remembers), predating the series itself. It's a brief mission, but she finds herself starting to like humans and the Earth. There's a fun coda, in which the First Doctor arrives a year later, having decided this is where he wants to hide out with Susan. He might not remember being the Fugitive, but the link is in there somewhere.

The main story deals with another mission for the Division, and while it's made clear that the Doctor is sent on plenty of diplomatic and rescue missions, there are plenty of more underhand assignments, and she isn't given the full story on all of them. The Doctor is assigned a temporary assistant named Taslo (because there's got to be a companion), new and naive but holding her own secrets. They're sent to take out a cult formed from various aliens who are allegedly threatening Gallifrey, by any means necessary.

There's more to it, of course, and it's no surprise when we find out the Division has being lying to the Doctor's face, but their motives are interesting. In spite of being very directly involved in the outside universe, these early Time Lords are just as rulebound and inflexible as those of the TV series' era, terrified of change and of anything that they view against true Time Lord life. It's clear the Doctor is becoming disenchanted with her role as an agent, but this is the mission that finally makes her decide to go on the run (I guess that's a spoiler, but it's hardly a surprise). 

It's a strong story, and the comics medium suits the bold, brash and colourful Fugitive Doctor. While it looks like audio will be her main home for the foreseeable, I'd love to see some more graphic adventures for her, either as Division agent or Fugitive.

Television Heaven's 25th Anniversary Special - the greatest TV programmes of the last 25 years

The preeminent TV review website, Television Heaven, has reached the ripe old age of 25. Laurence Marcus started the site back in December 1999, and under his oversight it's grown through the 21st century to become an exhaustive and ever-expanding repository of televisual knowledge and opinion. I've been writing for it for about half that time, which somehow seems even more astonishing.

To celebrate, Lol has published two extensive articles critiquing the best, most important, and most impactful programmes of the last 25 years. First, I urge you check out his remarkable list of The Most Important Programmes of the 21st Century, examining the five shows he considers the most vital, powerful and game-changing. Programmes that genuinely changed audiences and even the world, using documentary and drama to explore the most important facts and issues of their times.

Following that, Lol has just put up 25 Shows in 25 Years, a collaborative effort by TVH's crew of regular writers. Each of us has been assigned a particular genre of television from which to pick our five must-see shows. Not an easy task, but between us we managed it. John Winterson Richards has chosen his top five historical dramas; Brian Slade chuckles at his favourite five comedies; Jennifer Ariesta tackles modern drama; and Sunday Summers explores the best of Reality TV.

As for me - well, naturally, I was assigned science fiction and fantasy. My picks are right down the bottom of the article, and believe me, choosing just five was no easy task. (One will be pretty damned obvious, but my other choices may surprise you.) Of course, there were many deserving series that had to be left off, not to mention far too many that remain patiently on my watchlist. You'll no doubt disagree passionately with my choices. Don't write in, it's just for fun! Actually, do write in - tell me your top five!

REVIEW: The Substance

Having not had a chance to see it in the cinema but intrigued by the hype, I've signed up to Mubi specifically to watch Coralie Fargeat's The Substance. While the film has been out for a while, I'll try to be reasonably light on the SPOILERS here, but if you plan to see The Substance, I'd recommend watching it with as little foreknowledge as possible.

While I'm not as blown away by The Substance as some have been, it's undoubtedly an extremely powerful film, an evocative and lurid dissection of the cruelty of our shallow society. I am certain that a woman watching it would find it even more so, as while men are also subject to society's skin-deep judgment, it is women who must deal with it day in, day out. Nonetheless, it is interesting that the one other user of the Substance we meet in the film is a man, when the rest of the focus is so squarely on women.

The Substance is a thematically dense film, most obviously satirising the cut-throat world of Hollywood and its relentless exploitation of young performers. It also takes on themes of the cruelty and inevitability of ageing; parent-child rivalry; elder abuse; self-loathing and depression; self harm; cosmetic surgery; substance (small 's') abuse and addiction; the nature of beauty; society's reaction to disfigurement; the nature of identity, and more. Fargeat's direction is eccentric, exaggerating shots with extreme close-ups that magnify the grotesqueness of human life, yet this is shown to be, if not better, then at least more real than sanitised, airbrushed fakery.

Of course, she also delivers a stunning level of gore and revolting body horror, realised largely with practical effects – far more viscerally effective than endless CGI. (Although one of the most disturbing images of the film, the replication of eyes within eyes as the beginning of the Substance's process, is a brilliant bit of digital wizardry.) It's no surprise that Calgeat is a fan of David Cronenberg, in particular his masterpiece, The Fly; some moments are lifted directly from that film. More pertinent, though, is the shared use of extreme mutilation and deformation as a metaphor for disease and the ageing process. Like The Fly, The Substance is quite restrained in its use of gore and monstrosity, increasing it until the climactic and over-the-top finale. I'm informed that the film is equally indebted to Demi Moore's previous film, Requiem for a Dream; I've never seen that film, but I know enough about it to see that it shares with the The Substance a gruesome and uncompromising look at addiction and its effects on the mind and body.

You have to admire Moore for taking on such as role as Elisabeth, as someone who has been ridiculed for her own response to ageing, including not insubstantial cosmetic surgery, and having gone from the highest-paid actress in the world to someone whose career was largely considered to be over. Moore is astonishingly good in this, giving a painfully real and understandable performance as Elisabeth engages on her path of self-destruction. She has spoken of her discomfort in performing naked in the film, now that she is in her sixties (more than ten years older than her character), but, of course, she still looks incredible – which is, naturally, what the film is all about.

Even the remarkably beautiful Margaret Qualley isn't good enough for the perfection that Sue, Elisabeth's alter ego, represents, wearing false breasts for her own nude scenes. Qualley gives an equally strong performance, embodying Sue with a shallowness and cruelty that she hides beneath a marketable personality of naivete and Apple Pie Americanism. It's fascinating to watch Elisabeth's downward spiral reflected, and largely caused, by Sue's increasingly brutal treatment of her. Equally fascinating is Elisabeth and Sue's gradual emergence as separate identities, even though they are simply facets of the same person. When they finally separate, the event that kicks off their final descent into self-destruction, they are inevitably fused again, in the most horrific of ways imaginable.

Qualley, though, doesn't actually look particularly like Moore, which only serves to make the divide stronger and Elisabeth's story sadder. Sue presumably represents an idealised self-image; the person Elisabeth always believed she could be. That Sue instantly becomes a runaway success only furthers Elisabeth's feelings of inadequacy and low self-image. Elisabeth's binge-eating (judging by the amount of meat and eggs, largely driven by a need for copious amounts of protein to replace what was lost in Sue's “birth” and “weaning”) is a clear sign of her self-hatred. This manifests more blatantly in her rapid ageing and disfigurement as Sue's selfishly extends her own time, as well as both versions' increasingly vicious treatment of one another. (Never mind the events towards the end; the fact that neither aspect ever decides to put something down on the world's hardest bathroom floor for the bodyswap moments speaks volumes.)

The film comes close to being a two-hander, but it's impossible to overlook Dennis Quaid's performance as the loathsome Harvey. Also worth noting is Edward Hamilton Clark's performance as hopeful suitor Fred. Even though Fred seems a decent enough guy, both men are portrayed as physically off-putting – Fred with his yellowing teeth, Harvey with his shameless face-stuffing and constant shouting – yet they face no recrimination for their flawed, ageing appearances.

It's an intensely visual film, using colour, harsh lighting and extreme camera work to disorienting effect. Everything is extreme here, be it monstrously ugly or aggressively beautiful. Sue's “Call On Me” channelling erotic workout show is a case in point: relentlessly sexy but again using extreme close-ups to push this beyond its limits. Nonetheless, Qualley is incredibly hot in these scenes, forcing the viewer to become complicit in the sexualisation and exploitation of her character.

In reality, though, Qualley found filming these scenes traumatic, and could only bring herself to do them while high. Given that both she and Moore were injured somewhat by make-up and prosthetics, and that even Quaid almost made himself sick by devouring kilos of shrimp, it raises the question of when the depiction of exploitation becomes exploitation in itself.

Where the film falls down, unfortunately, is in the final act, which takes things too far into delirious horror. While there's some uncertainty as to how much we see is real and how much is hallucination, it seems we're meant to view the final, brutal events as actually happening. While it's certainly climactic, the final phase of Elisabeth and Sue's “treatment” and its aftermath takes the body horror into the absurd. Ultimately, it's too much, and sits poorly with the rest of the film, as heightened as it all is. It's a shame, as there were undoubtedly ways to complete the story in a similar fashion without going so ludicrously over-the-top. Still, even in this phase, the film is rife with blatant, in-your-face symbolism, almost screaming “Look at this! I dare you!”

Even as it pushes things too far in its final scenes, The Substance is one of the most powerfully satirical – if entirely unsubtle – films in years; a horror movie that relentlessly attacks its own industry and makes the audience question themselves for watching it.