Oh, boy. We’re going to get letters. We are so going to get letters. 
And by “letters,” I mean angry comments in the angry comments section; I’m anticipating unfettered use of CAPSLOCK and lots of misspellings. And you know what — I feel for you, Turner Classic Movie fans who sometimes wonder “What in the wide, wide world of sports is happening to this channel?” Even just searching for an image to illustrate Andrzej Żuławski‘s POSSESSION (1981) is like tiptoing through the aftermath of Gettysburg: do I go with the spontaneous subway abortion picture or the one where Isabelle Adjani is making the beast with two backs with the thing with four tentacles? I mean, I don’t want to offend anyone… which is something Żuławski never said while making POSSESSION. Man oh man, it’s some picture and about as far as you can get from DIVORCE HIS-DIVORCE HERS (1973) while still being able to sleep at night. Actually, POSSESSION plays in some ways like those depressing unfulfilled wife movies Jean Simmons used to make – HOME BEFORE DARK (1958 comes to mind, and THE HAPPY ENDING (1969) — but with less of an accent on quiet anguish and more stabbing and tentacles. Not for nothing did Esquire call this “the best, freakiest possession movie ever.” It’s so out there that Sam Neill used DAMIEN III: THE FINAL CONFLICT (1981) as a cool-down.
Okay, that’s not literally true but it make a good joke, right? Anyway. I’m fortunate that I first saw POSSESSION with little fanfare, long before the Internet and its tall talk, so it hit me full-on like a crazy lady wildly spewing goo in the Berlin Metro. I’ve already said too much but you, too, should go in blind to get the full effect; if you’ve ever felt as though your life was spinning wildly out of control and that you were helpless to slow its insane revolutions and were in fact, in your own mad little way, actually helping to make it worse, then POSSESSION is the movie for you. It makes WHO’S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF (1966) — isn’t it funny how Dick and Liz keep coming up in this conversation — play like SCUDDA HOO! SCUDDA HAY! (1948).
And then in the overnight slot we have Louis Malle’s BLACK MOON (1975), which as you can tell from the accompanying photo is just a regular movie-movie.
The whole freakshow starts at 11pm PST/2am EST.