“Pandora’s Box, but Make It Jewish”
Somewhere between The Exorcist and an episode of Antiques Roadshow lies The Possession, a 2012 horror film that asks the eternal question: “What if a demon lived in an old wooden box from eBay?” The answer, unfortunately, is 90 minutes of Jeffrey Dean Morgan looking perpetually confused while his daughter screams at salad forks.
This Sam Raimi-produced “based on a true story” spookfest revolves around a cursed box called a Dybbuk box, which is Jewish folklore’s answer to the Pandora myth—except with fewer gods and more guilt. The premise sounds intriguing: a father trying to save his daughter from an evil spirit trapped in an ancient relic. But what could’ve been The Exorcist with a menorah turns into The Lifetime Movie Channel Presents: Oy Vey, There’s a Demon in My Cutlery Drawer.
The Plot: “Don’t Touch That Antique, Honey”
Our story begins, as all great horror films do, with an old lady getting body-slammed by invisible forces for daring to touch the plot device too early. Enter Clyde Brenek (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), a divorced basketball coach who’s trying to be a good dad while sharing custody of his two daughters, Hannah and Emily, with his ex-wife Stephanie (Kyra Sedgwick, doing her best “I’m exhausted but still hot” energy).
Clyde buys the cursed Dybbuk box for his youngest daughter Emily at a yard sale because nothing says “I love you” like gifting your child a haunted object that looks like it came from Hell’s Bed Bath & Beyond. Soon, weird things start happening: moths infest the house, cold winds blow indoors, and Emily starts eating like she’s auditioning for The Exorcist: Weight Gain Edition.
Before long, Emily’s possessed by a demon that whispers in her ear and makes her stare blankly at everyone with the emotional warmth of a malfunctioning Roomba. When doctors and therapists fail, Clyde seeks help from Tzadok (yes, played by Matisyahu—the reggae Hasidic rapper), who performs an exorcism that feels like it was rehearsed between sound checks on tour.
There’s chanting, levitation, wind machines, and the inevitable “Is she okay?” followed by “No, she’s vomiting blood.” By the end, the Dybbuk is defeated, the family is traumatized, and the audience is left possessed by disappointment.
Jeffrey Dean Morgan: The Saddest Basketball Coach in Horror
Jeffrey Dean Morgan spends this entire movie looking like a man who just realized his coffee order was wrong but he’s too polite to complain. As Clyde, he tries hard to play the earnest, struggling dad—his go-to strategy is furrowing his brow so deeply it could be used as a demonic storage compartment.
You can see the pain in his eyes, not just from the fictional divorce, but from the crushing realization that he signed up for The Exorcist and got The Dybbuk Whisperer.
The film tries to make him a sympathetic everyman, but Clyde’s biggest character trait is “guy who keeps forgetting how horror movies work.” Every scene is a new lowlight in parental decision-making:
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His daughter starts whispering to a wooden box? “It’s just a phase.”
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She attacks another kid at school? “Kids will be kids.”
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A swarm of moths floods the house? “Probably just the weather.”
Clyde doesn’t need an exorcist—he needs common sense and maybe a parenting class.
Kyra Sedgwick: Divorce Never Looked So Mildly Annoyed
Kyra Sedgwick plays Stephanie, the ex-wife who’s dating a man named Brett (played by Grant Show), whose only personality trait is “soon-to-be murdered by supernatural coincidence.” Stephanie’s role is mostly to roll her eyes at Clyde and say things like, “You’re overreacting,” while her child screams about demons.
Her big moment of realization comes when Emily starts behaving like a small, possessed raccoon, at which point she finally believes Clyde and says, “Maybe we should call someone.” Lady, your kid just dislocated her jaw to yell in Aramaic. Yes, maybe call someone.
Sedgwick gives a professional performance, but you can tell she’s slumming it between prestige TV gigs. Her energy says, “I’m here for the paycheck, not the possession.”
The Kids: When Acting Meets Screaming
Madison Davenport plays the older sister, Hannah, whose main purpose is to remind us that teenagers are always inconvenient in horror movies. She’s perpetually annoyed, occasionally terrified, and mostly forgotten by the screenplay once the real screaming starts.
But the real MVP—or maybe the LVP—is Natasha Calis as Emily, the possessed child. To her credit, she throws herself (literally) into the role. Her demonic tantrums are impressive, and her thousand-yard stares would make even Annabelle say, “You good, sis?”
Still, the movie makes her possession feel less like spiritual damnation and more like a case of extreme puberty. One minute she’s sweet and soft-spoken, the next she’s whispering in tongues and stabbing people with forks. If only Advil could fix demons.
Matisyahu: The Reggae Rabbi Exorcist
Let’s talk about Matisyahu. Yes, that Matisyahu—the reggae star with the beard and yarmulke—plays Tzadok, the Hasidic exorcist. When he first appears, it’s honestly refreshing: a hip, modern take on the typical priest-exorcist archetype. But then he opens his mouth, and suddenly you’re watching Yeshiva Ghostbusters.
His scenes are delivered with the dramatic weight of a man who just realized he’s performing an exorcism in a film that will be forever rented in Redbox bargain bins. To his credit, he’s trying. He chants. He waves his hands. He gives it that old Hasidic college try.
Unfortunately, it’s impossible to take any of it seriously when the soundtrack swells like he’s about to drop the hottest mixtape of the Hebrew calendar.
The Demon: Abyzou, Spirit of Mild Inconvenience
The Dybbuk, also known as Abyzou, is supposedly a terrifying ancient spirit that feeds on children. In practice, it mostly slams doors and throws cutlery. Its hobbies include:
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Whispering creepy nothings.
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Possessing little girls for attention.
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Ruining perfectly good family dinners.
Visually, it looks like every other movie demon—a smoky shadow with teeth that need orthodontic intervention. The scariest thing about it is how predictable it is. Even the jump scares arrive like Amazon packages: exactly when you expect them, and slightly disappointing once they show up.
The Tone: Exorcism by IKEA
The Possession wants to be scary but feels manufactured in bulk. Every scene is lit like a furniture catalog and edited like it’s afraid to offend anyone. It’s PG-13 horror at its safest—meaning no real blood, no real terror, and plenty of dramatic whispering.
There’s a constant tension between the religious lore (which is actually fascinating) and the Hollywood need to make everything look sleek and digestible. The result is like eating gefilte fish with extra glitter—it’s shiny, but your soul regrets it.
By the time the final exorcism rolls around, the movie throws everything at the wall—wind machines, flashing lights, creepy voices—and none of it sticks. It’s not so much a climax as it is a PowerPoint presentation titled “How to Summon a Demon: For Dummies.”
The Ending: “Shalom, Suckers”
After an hour and a half of supernatural chaos, Tzadok saves the day with his reggae-infused ritual. The Dybbuk is banished, the family hugs, and the box is promptly thrown into the back of a car—because clearly, no one learned anything.
In the film’s final twist, the box still whispers ominously, implying that the demon lives on… probably waiting for The Possession 2: Oy Vey, It’s Back.
The Verdict: Possessed by Mediocrity
The Possession is the cinematic equivalent of a store-brand exorcism. It borrows the tropes of better films (The Exorcist, The Ring, Poltergeist), but delivers them with the intensity of a PTA meeting. It’s not terrible—just terminally bland.
Even the demon seems bored. You can almost hear it sighing between jump scares, thinking, “I used to haunt empires. Now I’m stuck in a prop box from HomeGoods.”
If you’re looking for true horror, watch Jeffrey Dean Morgan try to explain demonic possession to Kyra Sedgwick with a straight face.
Final Rating: 2 Out of 5 Haunted Yard Sales
It’s not scary enough to haunt you, not campy enough to enjoy ironically, and not smart enough to matter.
In short, The Possession proves one thing: sometimes the scariest thing about a horror movie is realizing it’s still going.
