Perhaps more than any other corner of the horror genre, possession films remain in constant comparison, sometimes unfairly, with William Friedkin’s masterpiece The Exorcist. Russell Crowe’s The Exorcism is a total love letter to the making of the film. The Containment, directed by Jack and Yossy Zagha Kababie, is a film that is “possessed’ by that film. It doesn’t name-check its most obvious influence, but the echoes are unmistakable, embedded in its imagery, performances, and narrative structure. At times, the relationship works in its favour; more often, it exposes just how difficult it is to transcend something without taking a chance.
The Containment is set in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and the story follows a grieving family attempting to come to terms with the suicide of their father, who was a quadriplegic. The opening is not Northern Iraq in this case, but a bedroom where a mother (Isabel Aerenlund) confronts her son Michael (Jack Gouldbourne), who is in league with a demon and has done some horrible things. Not a little statue, but the scarab bugs show up and flee in this one to find their way to another host, which is the film’s narrative.
“… a grieving family attempting to come to terms with the suicide of their father …”
Jules (Charlotte Hunter), the mother, tries to carry the household, and in one of the film’s more visual cues, she is frequently seen smoking cigarettes nervously in a similar wardrobe that recalls Chris MacNeil, portrayed by Ellen Burstyn. It’s a subtle homage, signaling early on that The Containment is operating within a familiar ground for those who are aware.
Her daughter, Caroline (Gia Hunter), becomes the focal point of the horror after a bizarre incident in which a scarab insect crawls into her mouth while she sleeps, causing the demonic presence. The scarab bug subs in for the Locusts used in John Boorman’s ill-fated The Exorcist II: The Heretic. From there, the film unfolds along similar narrative lines. Caroline’s behaviour becomes erratic and disturbing as she blurts out angry or insolent phrases to whoever she pleases. Her body no longer entirely her own, going through contortions and being able to sit on the ceiling. The progression mirrors the classic possession arc: confusion, denial, medical intervention, and finally, reluctant acceptance of the supernatural.
The parallels to The Exorcist become even more pronounced in specific sequences. A medical diagnosis scene, while not as clinical or invasive, turns out to be ultimately inconclusive, reinforcing the notion that science has limits when confronted with the inexplicable. Similarly, the design of Caroline’s bedroom in the home, with its bright, almost sterile palette, gives Regan’s iconic room, right down to the billowing curtains and the sudden eruption of kinetic chaos as objects begin to move with unseen force. These visual callbacks are executed with competence, but they rarely transcend imitation.
"…it shows signs of life, hinting at a more daring and distinctive vision."
