The horror genre has historically been a solid gateway into the film business for young directors — everyone from Peter Jackson to Jordan Peele started out in scary movies. They’re cheap to produce, have a passionate audience, and they usually don’t have to deal with any major expectations beyond turning a profit. But it’s way more unusual for established filmmakers to experiment with the genre. While Stanley Kubrick and Danny Boyle are excellent examples of non-horror directors dabbling in dread later in their careers, something about their early work always suggested that they’d make a good scary movie. Nothing about the Oscar nominee Lee Daniels’ past filmography, however, indicated that he’d be a good fit for the genre. And it shows in The Deliverance, his latest film, now out on Netflix.
A better drama than it is an exercise in thrills, The Deliverance is based on the infamous Ammons haunting case, although it doesn’t announce this until the end titles. A little over a decade ago, a Black mother and her three children swore that their new house in the poverty-stricken town of Gary, Indiana was haunted by demonic entities. They summoned an exorcist, and eventually moved out, but not before the case made national news. The supposedly haunted house was subsequently purchased by the paranormal investigator Zak Bagans, who filmed a ‘documentary’ titled Demon House there some years later. Regardless of its factual flimsiness, it remains one of the best ‘found-footage’ movies ever made, with plenty of Bagans’ trademark dude-bro style of presentation; he has been known, for instance, to lay down under an axe and challenge ghosts to kill him with it.
Also read – Longlegs: The scariest horror movie of the year knows exactly how to weaponise Nicolas Cage
Athony B Jenkins as Andre in The Deliverance.
In Demon House, Bagans claimed to have been harassed by a Hollywood producer who’d bagged the rights to the Ammons case, which is why the family never appeared in it. They’re all over The Deliverance, a movie that begins interestingly enough, but eventually disintegrates into a mess of tired cliches and garish sound effects. For about an hour or so, it’s almost as if Daniels is attempting to make a psychological drama about the horrors that plague Black families — absent fathers, systemic oppression, and the always looming danger of drugs and violence. The movie also works as a parable about alcoholism, and how it can affect the children of addicts. But the final act, with its loud religiosity and generally inept storytelling, belongs in a different movie altogether.
Andra Day, who was nominated for an Oscar for playing Billy Holiday in Daniels’ previous film, plays the struggling Ebony Jackson. Ebony moves into the cursed house with her white mother, played by an outstanding Glenn Close, and her three children — the teenagers Nate and Shante, and the youngest and most vulnerable, Andre. Before she’s even had a chance to settle in, Ebony stumbles upon Andre talking to an imaginary friend named Trey. But she doesn’t pay much attention to it because she has bigger fish to fry. She’s behind on her payments, her mother’s in chemo, and a child protection services officer is snapping at her heels.
Often out of control, Ebony comes across as neglectful and nasty for the most part, but her rough edges are smoothed out by Daniels’ unwaveringly glossy filmmaking. Not only is he a poor fit for horror, he often struggles to portray gritty reality as well. Which is probably why the film’s best portions are the ones in which he unravels the biggest demon in Ebony’s life: her addiction. The Deliverance would’ve been an infinitely more engaging movie had it dug deeper into the idea that Ebony is the primary cause of her children’s trauma. But by unambiguously declaring that their troubles are a result of actual demonic possession, the movie undermines its own themes.
Turn by turn, Nate, Shante and Andre begin experiencing blackouts in school, and things become so dangerous that Ebony is forced to pull them out. Pushed against a wall, Ebony hesitantly secures the services of an exorcist. Played by Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, the exorcist (who hates being called an exorcist) shows up deep into the film’s second act, and guides it towards a climax that’s solely responsible for robbing it of at least two stars. Perhaps the only memorable thing about it is Close’s brief transformation into a sharp-toothed demon who slides along the floor and hisses curses at Ebony. It comes out of nowhere, but belongs in a far campier film.
Story continues below this ad
Glenn Close as Alberta, Demi Singleton as Shante and Caleb McGlaughlin as Nate in The Deliverance.
Read more – Barbarian movie review: The buzziest horror film of the year delivers bang for the buck thrills
The rest of that climax, unfortunately, appears to have been cheaply cobbled together from every demonic possession movie that you’ve ever seen. There’s a lot of slithering and slobbering, and at one stage, Ebony begins chanting gibberish at the demon while convulsing cartoonishly. What makes it all the more baffling is Daniels’ odd decision to pivot the film away from the redemption arc that it was headed in, and turn it into a story about finding Jesus. Not only does this instantly diminish the suffering of the three children and absolve Ebony of her sins, it dilutes the very potent themes that The Deliverance had previously shown an interest in.
The Deliverance
Director – Lee Daniels
Cast – Andra Day, Glenn Close, Caleb McLaughlin, Demi Singleton, Mo’Nique, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor
Rating – 2/5