Any seasoned horror fan has seen their share of possession films. From The Exorcist (1973) to The Conjuring (2013), the genre has produced countless iterations of a tried and true format. The subject, usually young or otherwise vulnerable, encounters a demonic entity through direct contact with a cursed artifact, entrance into a forbidden locale, or […]
Any seasoned horror fan has seen their share of possession films. From The Exorcist (1973) to The Conjuring (2013), the genre has produced countless iterations of a tried and true format. The subject, usually young or otherwise vulnerable, encounters a demonic entity through direct contact with a cursed artifact, entrance into a forbidden locale, or some sort of moral or ethical transgression. The entity takes over control of their body and they become a danger to family and friends.
These films usually climax in an exorcism steeped in Catholic tradition: a heroic Priest armed with holy water and scripture attempts to cast the demon out. The possession film’s success usually lies in its execution and the moral message underlying the horror. Antonio Negret’s Shaman spins this tired genre in a new direction by deconstructing the tropes we’ve all come to accept. What appears to be a fairly standard possession film morphs into a timely exploration of religion itself.
Candice (Sara Canning) is a missionary in rural Ecuador diligently working to convert the locals. In addition to baptisms and evangelical education, she’s preparing for the confirmation of her tween son Elliot (Jett Klyne). But the willful boy disappears shortly before this important ceremony and Candice lies to hide her embarrassment. She finds him on a cot in the humble home of a local Shaman (Humberto Morales) who seems to have rescued him from a dangerous cave. After this distressing incident, a rash of bad luck falls upon the tiny town. Elliot exhibits malevolent behavior and Candice becomes convinced that the Shaman has poisoned her son. Terrified, she turns to Father Meyer (Alejandro Fajardo) for help, but finds that whatever spirit possesses the boy may be older and more powerful than her chosen God.
In outward manifestations of Elliot’s possession, Negret doesn’t break much new ground. A shadowy entity emerges from darkness and slowly begins to invade his body, causing sinister visions for those in his orbit. Scorpions seem to crawl out of his clothes while inky, black liquid bleeds from his eyes and mouth. Though eerie, these visual indicators are the film’s Achilles heel, rehashing tropes we’ve seen time and again. But Negret resists overusing CGI trickery and Klyne wisely delivers a grounded performance. Terror springs from Elliot’s sly and subdued actions rather than bombastic displays of the demon’s power.