Revisited: Session 9

For this week's Revisited, I'm going back to 2001 and the Danvers State Hospital for Brad Anderson's chilling indie, Session 9.

I've detailed before my love for urbex and abandoned or "haunted" locations. The Danvers State Hospital is like the CN Tower of abando's. It's big, bold, and terrifying. Shooting a movie here is pretty much a no brainer, and almost impossible to fail with, like say, the Winchester house. Oh wait, that one failed. Well,  this one doesn't.

I recall an interview with Anderson and writer Stephen Gevedon, wherein they detail how they experienced Danvers before the film: They broke in. How you could walk those hallowed halls and not be inspired isn't likely to happen.

Anderson and Gevedon knew the unstoppable strength of the location, and tailor the script to keep the locale front and center. Anderson also utilizes his obvious love of Kubrick with long tracking shots as characters walk from one hellish room to another. It has been said that while the film cherrypicked a few key photographs and posters for the wall, the majority of the asylum was left untouched from its heyday. 

The plot is left pretty basic. The town has hired a crew of workers to deal with the hospital's asbestos problem. They have 1 week to get it done, working day and night. Then, the weird things start happening, and the crew worry that they aren't alone in the nuthouse.

Anderson is very blessed to have this cast. Peter Mullen and David Caruso play the boss and second. The remaining workers are played by Josh Lucas, Brendan Sexton , and Gevedon. Each flesh out their characters as well as could be expected. Each character is also given a broad level of discontent. 

Mullen's Gordon is insomnia stricken with the birth of a new child. Caruso's Phil unsuccessfully tries to bottle his anger at losing his girlfriend to coworker Hank (Lucas). Mike (Gevedon) is captivated by a reel found in the asylum, dictating the struggles of someone with MPD. And let's not forget Jeff (Sexton), who wins the bad job choice award for working in an abandoned asylum while suffering from crippling fear of the dark.

This film definitely succeeds in the "less is more" department. Paranoid shots, noises in the dark, and some well placed asylum anecdotes all add to the atmosphere. Consider a scene in which Lucas' Hank finds some antique coins in the basement and begins rooting around behind the loose bricks in the wall.  The camera sits on the other side of the wall, and slowly pans back to reveal the wall is actually the oven inside a dingy morgue. 

What does it mean for the film? Absolutely nothing at all, but damn if it isn't creepy and well executed, complete with a stellar barebones score. 

The second half of the film does everything in its power to keep the group separated and scared, and never feels like a cheap stunt. The reaction acting by the individual actors all vary and all feel very real. Jeff's sudden exposure to a nictophobic's worst nightmare is so brilliantly done, it's horrifying.

There was a string of movies in the early 2000's that seemed to have an unstoppable urge to throw in a big twist at the end. Let's call it the Sixth Sense Syndrome. Session 9 does come down with a last minute case of SSS, but luckily it's done very respectfully and doesn't negate what preceded it. It actually creates some magnificent physical acting from Mullen.

The final scenes intercut with the last psychotic reel playing, along with the generator blowing, and all of the scattered actors running around terrified is masterful. The film's final words are chilling. That VOICE.

I adore this film. It's so unbelievably well acted, and is such a paranoid and unsettling ride. It troubles me that it's not more widely known. 

The paranormal is not too unlike asbestos. An invisible threat that, if not taken seriously, will creep into your body and destroy you from within.

Is Session 9's Danvers haunted? Is it a hub of negative energy from experimental surgery, and scores of broken inmates? Does Mary Hobbes wander the tunnels in search of her lost family? Or was it absolutely nothing? We will never know, and that's the brilliance and power of this film.