PossessorEvery network is a two-way connection, including everything from your computer, the highway, a telephone--even a handshake. And whatever travels along that network is accessible by the party on the other end. Possessor is a science fiction horror thriller about a body snatching assassin named Tasya Vos (Andrea Riseborough), whose latest mission courtesy of her handler, Girder (Jennifer Jason Leigh), has her take over the body of the unsuspecting Colin Tate (Christopher Abbott). She does this so that she can use him to assassinate his future father-in-law--an arrogant corporate tycoon named John Parse (Sean Bean). But as Girder observes, a thread of humanity holds Vos back from full detachment, and this gives Colin just enough of a window to reclaim control of his own body.
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Possessor depicts a dark and sinister world, where soulless and nameless corporations employ agents like Girder and Vos to assassinate their competition through highly sophisticated means, treat the killing like little more than a business deal. Girder emphasizes the hit on Parse as being big largely because her bosses are planning on capitalizing on the subsequent power vacuum to take over Parse's company in its wake. Even though Vos is the protagonist, she knowingly participates in this murder-for-hire work that not only dispatches the target, but leaves the poor, hapless soul who Vos mindjacks into dead. A prologue depicts Vos's last job, where she took control of a young woman named Holly Bergman (Gabrielle Graham) and stabbed someone with a steak knife, seemingly without provocation. Vos's exit is supposed to precede her host's suicide (in a manner of speaking), but Vos cannot seem to make her hosts kill themselves. This is a problem for the otherwise unflappable assassin, and is emblematic of her inner turmoil. After her mission, she establishes a psychological baseline with Girder by identifying small objects--totems from her past--that fill her with various emotions. But what lingers most in her mind is the desire to rekindle the relationship with her and her family--her estranged husband, Michael (Rossif Sutherland), and son, Ira (Gage Graham-Arbuthnot). Girder identifies this emotional link, but tries to deter Vos from engaging it, subtly manipulating her into abandoning her connections to the outside world in favor of the next mission. Subsequently, Vos hallucinate about her most recent killing when she goes to see Michael, making her visit a joyless one; and it isn't before long that this unassuming killer is ready to sync up with her next host.
Written and directed by Brandon Cronenberg, Possessor shares more than a few commonalities with films by his father (David Cronenberg), notably the dystopian mind control horror classic, Videodrome. Both films are set in a world that resembles ours on the surface, but has elements that make it evident that it isn't our world. Consider the implications of brainjacking into someone for days at a time, even if it does require periodic calibration. How different is this from losing yourself by "plugging in" to Max Wren's Civic TV, as the lines blur between real life a virtual one. More interestingly is the technology that allows for this. Vos uses equipment that plugs right into the skull, forcing a port with a needle or drill that is akin to a headphone jack, operated by a tuner that is clearly analog. Or the massive helmet she wears while she dives into her host's mind, that is large and bulky, encompassing her entire skull as she lays supine on a massive table in Girder's lab. (Also very similar to the hallucination recording device from Videodrome.) And consider Colin's bizarre job at Parse's company, where he actively monitors the curtains in rooms as webcams record people in their day to day life. Colin is manually doing what so many other companies like Google do via targeted advertising, meaning his life is less valuable than a sophisticated algorithm that should one day replace him. The world of Possessor is an inherently violent one; it has to be given Vos's work. Despite her clandestine work, there is clearly some corporate oversight that contracts her and Girder to kill people like Parse in a bid that is ultimately for corporate supremacy, and not from any moral imperative. There is also a level of dehumanization prevalent throughout, even in innocent moments, like when Ira shows Vos the animatronic toy he programs to dance--a simplified version of what Vos does to people like Colin. Colin's job is so absurd, it wouldn't be out of place in the films of Terry Gilliam (like The Zero Theorem); and yet it is treated with a seriousness that makes the audience question just how absurd the menial things we do from day to day might look to this world's denizens. The great conflict at the heart of Possessor is Vos's diminishing humanity, ever dwindling under the weight of her violent work. Despite struggling to inflict harm upon her own hosts--she is chided for being unable to "pull the trigger" and end her host's life--she has no problem inflicting horrifying violence against her targets. Although little to nothing is known about her first target, Parse is so belittling and condescending to Colin that the audience is disinclined to sympathize with the tycoon, even though Vos (and by proxy, Colin) try to murder him savagely with a poker. Possessor tries to make you forget that Vos is ultimately the villain--a mercenary whose job it is to kill without remorse and frame someone else for it; not for any nobler aspiration than money and power, and not even for herself. Vos loses herself in her work, but what impedes her success is ironically that she retains a faint vestige of humanity via her family. This is what makes Vos empathetic in spite of her work; who hasn't felt dehumanized in their jobs to some extent? Whenever we answer to someone else, we lose a little of what makes us individuals in the process; Possessor asks how much is too much to lose?
Recommended for: Fans of a disturbing science fiction psychological horror film that explores what it means to become someone else in order to commit the "perfect crime", yet asks the audience to consider the high cost that comes with it. Possessor is a film punctuated by extreme violence, so it is recommended for audiences prepared for that, and for those who are on board with a story that is laden with dread and ambiguity.
Written and directed by Brandon Cronenberg, Possessor shares more than a few commonalities with films by his father (David Cronenberg), notably the dystopian mind control horror classic, Videodrome. Both films are set in a world that resembles ours on the surface, but has elements that make it evident that it isn't our world. Consider the implications of brainjacking into someone for days at a time, even if it does require periodic calibration. How different is this from losing yourself by "plugging in" to Max Wren's Civic TV, as the lines blur between real life a virtual one. More interestingly is the technology that allows for this. Vos uses equipment that plugs right into the skull, forcing a port with a needle or drill that is akin to a headphone jack, operated by a tuner that is clearly analog. Or the massive helmet she wears while she dives into her host's mind, that is large and bulky, encompassing her entire skull as she lays supine on a massive table in Girder's lab. (Also very similar to the hallucination recording device from Videodrome.) And consider Colin's bizarre job at Parse's company, where he actively monitors the curtains in rooms as webcams record people in their day to day life. Colin is manually doing what so many other companies like Google do via targeted advertising, meaning his life is less valuable than a sophisticated algorithm that should one day replace him. The world of Possessor is an inherently violent one; it has to be given Vos's work. Despite her clandestine work, there is clearly some corporate oversight that contracts her and Girder to kill people like Parse in a bid that is ultimately for corporate supremacy, and not from any moral imperative. There is also a level of dehumanization prevalent throughout, even in innocent moments, like when Ira shows Vos the animatronic toy he programs to dance--a simplified version of what Vos does to people like Colin. Colin's job is so absurd, it wouldn't be out of place in the films of Terry Gilliam (like The Zero Theorem); and yet it is treated with a seriousness that makes the audience question just how absurd the menial things we do from day to day might look to this world's denizens. The great conflict at the heart of Possessor is Vos's diminishing humanity, ever dwindling under the weight of her violent work. Despite struggling to inflict harm upon her own hosts--she is chided for being unable to "pull the trigger" and end her host's life--she has no problem inflicting horrifying violence against her targets. Although little to nothing is known about her first target, Parse is so belittling and condescending to Colin that the audience is disinclined to sympathize with the tycoon, even though Vos (and by proxy, Colin) try to murder him savagely with a poker. Possessor tries to make you forget that Vos is ultimately the villain--a mercenary whose job it is to kill without remorse and frame someone else for it; not for any nobler aspiration than money and power, and not even for herself. Vos loses herself in her work, but what impedes her success is ironically that she retains a faint vestige of humanity via her family. This is what makes Vos empathetic in spite of her work; who hasn't felt dehumanized in their jobs to some extent? Whenever we answer to someone else, we lose a little of what makes us individuals in the process; Possessor asks how much is too much to lose?
Recommended for: Fans of a disturbing science fiction psychological horror film that explores what it means to become someone else in order to commit the "perfect crime", yet asks the audience to consider the high cost that comes with it. Possessor is a film punctuated by extreme violence, so it is recommended for audiences prepared for that, and for those who are on board with a story that is laden with dread and ambiguity.