D: Waris Hussein. S: Grimes Grice [Irene Kamp], Matt Robinson. Novel: Ramona Stewart. P: Martin Poll. Cast: Shirley MacLaine, Perry King, Michael Hordern, Lovelady Powell, Barbara Trentham, Earl Hyman. UK dist (DVD): Network.

This Anglo-American ITC production (helmed by ex-BBC hand Waris Hussein, the Indian-British director who helped bring Doctor Who to TV) doubtless hoped to ride on the success of Rosemary’s Baby; while Polanksi’s film had Mia Farrow embroiled in a Satanist conspiracy to bring the Antichrist to New York, Hussein’s has Shirley MacLaine tackling Santeria possession in Manhattan. Shirley plays uptight socialite Norah Benson, a reserved divorcée with an ambiguous relationship to her younger brother, Joel Delaney (Perry King), a troubled leftie who hangs out with the disenfranchised Puerto Rican community downtown. One night, out of the blue, Joel is dragged from his apartment block by police after mysteriously attacking his landlord in a psychotic rage. Freed from the psych ward under the supervision of his shrink (the gloriously-named Lovelady Powell), Joel initially seems to be on the mend, and Norah chalks his behaviour up to misuse of LSD. But before long he’s showing more sinister signs of personality change, jabbering vile curses in Spanish and generally acting loco around his family. When his girlfriend turns up naked and decapitated in her apartment, the cops finger Joel for a string of similar murders over the past few months; however, they’re forced to release him when it’s proven he was out of the country at the time. But Norah, responding to heavy hints by her Puerto Rican housekeeper, has begun to suspect the truth: that Joel has been possessed by the wandering spirit of a vicious sex killer, able to inhabit the bodies of the living through witchcraft…

An odd one, this. Well-directed and edited, with much French Connection-ish verité camerawork through the grimy streets of New York, its overall style is unfortunately too distant and clinical to be truly gripping. Characterisation is also problematic. Joel’s a nice guy, but an otherwise uninteresting victim; we simply don’t know enough about him to care about his situation, or to realise that his oddball actions are atypical. His leftist affiliations and right-on philosophies are made to seem juvenile and arrogant, further alienating our sympathies. Norah, too, is an unendearing heroine: bourgeois and uptight, much given to haughty eye-rolling, it’s hard to work up much rapport with the character.

But the film improves as it goes on. As Joel’s behaviour becomes ever-more threatening, finally culminating in a full-on-crazy home-invasion/hostage scenario, the film finally shifts into top gear with a genuinely-shocking climax featuring scenes of child abuse that would never be attempted today. (What the child actors’ parents were thinking as these scenes were filmed, god alone knows.) As expected for an early-Seventies horror, the film ends on a note of downbeat ambiguity, with an expertly-judged final freeze-frame. While the tone is uneven, The Possession of Joel Delaney is certainly worth a look: technical credits are excellent, and the script occasionally offers a bon mot or two. (Trying to pull rank at the city asylum, MacLaine icily informs the bolshy receptionist: “My husband is Tom Benson, the surgeon.” Hardly twitching an eyebrow, the receptionist fires back: “Really? My husband is Jack Bunker, the plumber. Perhaps they know each other?”) The film sank without trace on its initial release, with rumours of post-production interference – as Stephen Jones observes in his production notes (accompanying the Network DVD release), the finished film seems to have lost a few bits of footage here and there, with Michael Hordern’s role reduced to little more than a quick cameo. While it doesn’t really add much to the possession sub-genre, the film is at least intelligent and well-made – and may well have set Shirley MacLaine off on the road to reincarnation. A frightening thought indeed.