The Entity
On the surface, The Entity tells the story of single mom Barbara Hershey who finds herself under repeated, violent sexual assault from an unseen force.
Everywhere Hershey turns for help, she finds men eager to dismiss, manipulate, or abandon her. First, psychiatrist Ron Silver, who, after Hershey explains her predicament, says before he can help, “We have to find out what the problem is.”
When another assault leaves her covered in bruises and bite marks, Silver has her explain herself to his fellow clinicians. In a crowded, smoke-filled room, she endures questions from old men sporting skeptical stares. After she leaves, they ignore the physical evidence and focus on her sexual history.
Exasperated, she turns to a group of parapsychologists. These academics see her as a means to advance their careers. They approach her after an attack, feigning concern, saying, “Maybe this doesn’t seem like the best time for this, but we’re afraid for you.” They then propose a dangerous experiment that treats her as a guinea pig.
This comes after her father figure boyfriend leaves her after witnessing an attack.
Hershey’s alone. As much an inhuman “entity” as the force attacking her.
To reinforce this, director Sidney Furie leans on two-shots and closeups. These, combined with the small rooms of Hershey’s modest home, lend a documentary feel. But as the attacks escalate, Furie proffers a subtle increase in Dutch angles and other dynamic techniques to mirror her unstable reality.
This subtext and formal rigor, along with Hershey’s fearless performance, almost overcome the dismal third act. It’s as though screenwriter Frank De Felitta—who adapted his own novel—grafted on the end of a B-level sci-fi feature. We get a big set piece featuring a cheap optical effect involving a giant ice block followed by a non-ending coda.
Abandoning the first two acts’ intimate, character-driven approach opens the door for critics to paint the film as misogynistic exploitation reveling in Hershey’s graphic sexual assaults. I don’t agree—Hershey’s raw intensity renders these scenes grueling, not thrilling—but its devolution leaves the audience doubting the prior acts’ sincerity.
According to Daniel Kremer, author of Sidney J. Furie: Life and Film, Furie regretted the ending 1. Hershey called it contrived 2. Even editor Frank Urioste disliked it 3.
It’s a fatal flaw. I can admire Hersey’s performance and Furie’s direction and still admit the film left me wanting. Directorial style and convincing performances can’t overcome an aborted script.