Kimber Myers
Lee Daniels has made movies about human suffering before, whether as a producer of Monster’s Ball or as the Oscar-nominated director of Precious, but The Deliverance is the filmmaker’s first foray into outright horror. Yet this Netflix film is far more comfortable in the realm of family melodrama than it is in its demonic possession plot, choosing to dwell more on the more pedestrian — but still absolutely awful — abuse its characters endure from each other, rather than from the devil. Like so many other horror movies, The Deliverance is actually about trauma, but in this case, it’s specifically about Black trauma. However, just because The Deliverance is relevant with its commentary on systemic racism, it doesn’t mean that it’s worth watching.
Set in Pittsburgh in 2011 and inspired by the story of Latoya Ammons, The Deliverance takes a while to get to its spookier elements, other than the persistent flies infesting the new home of the Jacksons. Instead, it focuses more on the Black family’s struggles: Mother Ebony (Andra Day) is an alcoholic, who deals with visits from Child Protective Services after her absent husband reported her to the agency in an attempt to gain custody of their three children, young Andre (Anthony B. Jenkins) and teens Shante (Demi Singleton) and Nate (Caleb McLaughlin). She battles with her white mother, Alberta (Glenn Close), who has recently moved in while she undergoes chemo. Soon, the kids, especially Andre, begin acting strangely in their new house, but the authorities are more likely to blame their mother rather than believe that something supernatural might be the cause.
There is absolutely racism at play in The Deliverance (and in the real world where far more Black families experience a CPS investigation than other racial groups), but, uhh, other humans are statistically more likely to leave bruises than demons, whose existence is up for debate. Ebony absolutely deserves to be treated with humanity and not assumed to be abusing her children because she’s Black. Yet while the film addresses her treatment, she also hits her son in the mouth in an early scene, causing him to bleed and undermining its message with one brutal slap. The Deliverance is tough to watch, reveling in the grim lives of these characters in ways that have nothing to do with the demon inhabiting their house.
For anyone who’s seen a Daniels movie (or read the bananas Wikipedia summary of The Paperboy), they know that he’s a filmmaker unafraid of going there, without any real concern for taste or tone. And The Deliverance goes absolutely wild at a few points, but not in ways that are interesting—other than Close’s grandmother character, who steals the movie with crazy choices and eyebrow-raising dialogue. Everything else is a slog; it’s not scary, unsettling, or eerie. It’s just unpleasant.
The script from David Coggeshall (Orphan: First Kill) and Elijah Bynum (the similarly bleak Magazine Dreams) is filled with characters saying variations on, “Fuck you, bitch,” back and forth, and it’s a shame to see Day and Close, as well as co-stars Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor and Mo’Nique, stuck with this screenplay that doesn’t give much nuance to their characters. Mo’Nique won an Oscar and Day got a nomination for their previous collaborations with Daniels, but all of these actresses show how much better they are than this material at every turn.
Daniels has made a grim and grimy drama that never finds its footing as a horror movie, even while it mines predecessors like The Exorcist for its attempts at shocks and scares. Its thematic muddiness undermines its attempts at meaning, leaving something that is somehow both overcooked and underbaked.
D+
“The Deliverance” streams Friday on Netflix.
