The Deliverance Movie Review: A draggy thriller filled with done-to-death horror tropes

The first five minutes of The Deliverance pique your curiosity as the camera moves through murals and unidentifiable individuals painted on walls. There’s some screaming; some are disfigured. There are childlike caricatures that, upon close inspection, can disturb you. But soon enough, the facade of such intensity wears off, leaving behind something that’s Cartoonish and amateur, not unlike the drawings.

Ebony (Andra Day) raises three kids, Andre (Anthony B Jenkins), Shante (Demi Singleton), and Nate (Caleb McLaughlin), while being separated from her partner and having to deal with alcoholism and financial constraints. But she soon finds herself dealing with an evil entity in her house. Alberta (Glenn Close), Ebony's mother, helps her as she deals with cancer herself, only to reveal a fraught mother-daughter relationship that is on the verge of collapse. The makers mistake needlessly lengthy world-building for a slow-burn thriller as unimportant pieces of information keep being thrown at you.

Cast: Andra Day, Glenn Close, Mo'Nique, Anthony B. Jenkins, Miss Lawrence, Demi Singleton

Director: Lee Daniels

Streaming on: Netflix 

Even though you wait patiently for the film to pull the rug from under your feet, nothing interesting happens until the midpoint. It is only when Andre starts showing signs of demonic possession that interest starts rising. But then, overused horror film tropes snuff it out. At one point, it feels like the film is unsure of whether to be a social drama, thriller, and/or horror. It also tries to deliver commentary on religion and love but fails on both counts.

The Deliverance, based on the true story of Latoya Ammons, is let down largely by the uninspired writing. Almost every second scene serves as a callback to an iconic horror. From The Exorcist to The Conjuring, the ideas all seem derivative. There are putrid odours emanating from the basement, the kids have unexplainable bruises on their bodies, and all of them have been covered with the darkest makeup under their eyes to indicate possible sleepwalking. Yet, we never care for these children, whose lives have been plagued with uncertainty for as long as they can remember. Noteworthy performances from Close, Day, and Jenkins fail to salvage the film, either.

The laudable aspect of the film is its portrayal of generational trauma and the myriad ways in which it manifests itself. Each of Ebony's kids suffers in a way that stems from their weaknesses and insecurities. While each one processes trauma differently, it is evident that everyone suffers. And the evil too can be interpreted as a metaphor for the deep-rooted abuse and implications that flow through generations. The film tries to draw us back in with some hopeful moments, but the writing does not allow for these areas to shine. The kids undergo a deliverance, but we don’t.