Lee Daniels’ Netflix haunted house thriller, “The Deliverance,” opens by solemnly promising that it’s “inspired by true events.” It’s a clichéd start to some clichéd horror, but you’ll be rewarded for looking further: as it turns out, those alleged events are just an excuse to explore quieter, and more compelling, truths.
This is thanks, in large part, to a tour-de-force turn from Andra Day as exhausted single mother Ebony. She and her three children (Anthony B. Jenkins, Caleb McLaughlin, Demi Singleton) have just moved to a new home, and—what with the flies buzzing around the basement, and the kids’ newly weird behavior—it’s pretty clear something is off.
We’ve all seen enough movies to know where this is headed, but it takes Ebony a while to figure it out. And you can’t blame her. She may be dealing with an ancient demon breaking out of Hell, but she’s already got her hands more than full in this realm. Her life is built on contradictions, and the balance has tilted way out of control.
Her husband has left, and is both challenging her for custody and leaving her to handle everything. Her born-again mother (Glenn Close) has moved in to help, but their relationship is shadowed by a dark past. Ebony works hard all day and still can’t pay her bills; she loves her kids as fiercely as anyone could, but sometimes she hurts them, too.
The scariest threat of all—at least from a non-paranormal perspective–may be Cynthia (Mo’Nique), a no-nonsense social worker. She’s looking for reasons to remove the kids from this unstable family, and Ebony can’t help giving her some.
Daniels hasn’t always been able to find a steady equilibrium between melodrama and drama. But his cast is compelling enough to ground even the most outlandish moments—and there are plenty in the script written by David Coggeshall and Elijah Bynum.
Day (“The United States vs. Billie Holiday”) is so good at blending Ebony’s self hatred and mother love that she keeps us on her side no matter what’s happening. And the supporting cast is equally strong. Mo’Nique layers the stern Cynthia with unexpected empathy, while Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor (“King Richard”) somehow makes an exorcist—or apostle, as she calls herself–steady and believable. The kids are all solid and sympathetic, and Close manages to stay just on the right side of her chaotic character.
As it happens, Close has eight Oscar nominations, Day and Ellis-Taylor have one each, and Mo’Nique won for Daniels’ “Precious.” So it is, occasionally, disconcerting to see such accomplished actors drawn into (literally) head-spinning B-movie muck. And frankly, the horror elements too often seem like a distraction anyway; Daniels brings nothing new to the genre, and the big exorcism—all floating bodies, fiery religious iconography, and distorted vocal effects—is a disappointing denouement to the story’s very real and relatable issues.
In a way, though, that final letdown speaks to the strength of the rest of the movie. Ebony’s life is already a nightmare, in which she’s long been fighting against demons even greater than the one hiding in the basement. And her kids may be possessed, but they’re also acting out as any hurt and confused children in their situation might.
So ultimately, Daniels has made a touching and forceful film about three generations attempting to overcome familial and societal trauma. It’s only the Devil who underdelivers.