Film Review — "Belzebuth"
I have a cousin who is obsessed with possession flicks. It seems to be his favorite subgenre, because every holiday get-together he asks me, “Seen any good possession movies lately?” And although the answer is always no, he keeps inquiring.
The reason I never seem to have a recommendation for this cousin is because the “possession film” is tired. And I’m tired as hell of them. With very, very few exceptions, if you’ve seen one demonic exorcism, you’ve seen ’em all. However…
Belzebuth, I’m pleased to report, manages to circumvent a lot of the tropes, on top of being… pretty damn well made!
Despite seeing it repeatedly cited as one of the best horror films of the year, I continued to avoid Belzebuth simply because of its possession elements. (Again, not my thing.) Then, director Emilio Portes and co-screenwriter Luis Carlos Fuentes, having foreseen my hesitation, responded to my silliness with a chilling opening that immediately gripped me and assured me the ride ahead would be worth it.
Portes and Fuentes assure the audience early on that this film will be taking no prisoners. Because there’s nothing quite like a bedeviled nurse, armed with a scalpel, stabbing a roomful of newborns to death to really set the mood—and set the film apart from the herd.
And, believe it or not, that’s not the only mass murder. There are several, in fact. All involving children. Now, I’m almost always a proponent of kids being killed (in cinema, mind you), but Belzebuth really commits to it—with purpose. Narratively and thematically, Portes and Fuentes are going for something meaningful that becomes clearer as the plot unwinds; this isn’t just your ordinary, humdrum wanton child carnage. Something otherworldly is going on.
As I said, at its core this is a possession flick, but not exactly in the conventional sense. It may not be reinventing the subgenre, but Belzebuth does manage to upend the standard call-the-priest film. It’s not about one person who must be freed of a demon’s diabolic grasp—it’s a whole bloody wave of slayings committed by spiritually besieged individuals that must be stopped. What else sets this particular possession film apart is its willingness to give the three leads three-dimensionality and backstories and some skin in the game.
Joaquin Casio plays Det. Emmanuel Ritter, the man assigned to investigate the atrocities, which the authorities have deemed terrorist attacks. Ritter also bears a personal connection to it all—his newborn child was one of the massacred babies at the top of the story. Casio gives a grounded and heartbreakingly real performance as a man whose faith has crumbled in the wake of personal tragedy—and who must now solve a case delivered from the underworld.
He’s a perfect counterpart for his co-star Tate Ellington, who plays Ivan Franco, a gringo Vatican priest who’s also a paranormal forensics analyst (sure, that’s a thing) who suspects that something truly hellish is behind these horrific events. Ellington, in addition to being cute as a button, does a marvelous job of being both the Mulder and the Scully—the faithful spook—of this partnership.
And, of course, this trifecta is rounded out by none other than Tobin Bell, the Robert Englund of the aughts. He’s nearly unrecognizable as Vasilio Canetti. Bearded and clad head to toe with tattoos, his rogue excommunicated priest could very well be a Son of Anarchy, with a rigid and grave demeanor that lends an ominous quality to the character’s true motivations.
Although the very premise of this film—kids being murdered repeatedly en masse—sounds brazenly vulgar—and maybe a bit crude—the team handles the material carefully and keeps the film from wading into exploitation territory. Not to say these moments aren’t designed to intentionally unnerve the viewer—they certainly are—but they’re done relatively tastefully, so to speak.
One area where Portes and Fuentes do hold back, however, is with whatever they’re trying to say about American-Mexican politics. We get touches of it throughout, but it doesn’t culminate into much. Perhaps a stronger thesis existed in their script, before they ultimately decided to dial back on it while picture editing, having determined that it didn’t really fit, or provided too much of a distraction… I dunno, just spitballing. But if it’s true, maybe they were right.
Maybe the faith stuff is more important. After all, this is a movie that concludes with a climactic exorcism—and before you start shouting SPOILER at me: this is a POSSESSION FILM, it’s part of the formula. So maybe we’ll see more political stuff in Portes and Fuentes’ next outing. And if it’s anything like Belzebuth, I plan to devour the hell out of it.
