As a filmmaker, Lee Daniels is often criticized for his flamboyant, over-the-top style. While some of this criticism is warranted, Daniels is undoubtedly a talented director when he's at his best. “ The Deliverance ” is his sixth feature film, and I've enjoyed three of them: “Precious” (2009), a powerful story about a young woman escaping a difficult life in the city; “The Paperboy” (2012), a daring and unsettling Southern gothic noir; and “The United States vs. Billie Holiday” (2021), a musical-political biopic that, despite its flaws, effectively captures the complexity and intensity of its subject.

So when I say that “The Deliverance,” a demonic-possession movie that Daniels made for Netflix, is one of his kitschy-extreme schlock extravaganzas, I’m not saying that he’s always like that. But sometimes he is. And “The Deliverance” is not without its socially provocative Daniels undercurrents.

The film is set in Pittsburgh in 2011 and follows a family that moves into a house that immediately exhibits signs of being haunted. A word of advice to filmmakers: Never employ the trope of flies buzzing around a room to establish the presence of evil forces. It was excessively clichéd and predictable in “The Amityville Horror,” back in 1979, and it's an even more tired device today. In “The Deliverance,” almost everything related to the supernatural — that is, the devil — is something you've encountered countless times before, making it far less frightening than it should be.

The engaging aspect of the movie lies in its portrayal of the family, a distinctly Lee Daniels creation. Andra Day , who delivered such a powerful performance as Billie Holiday, plays Ebony, a single mother striving to raise three children — teenage Shante (Demi Singleton) and Nate (Caleb McLaughlin) and young Dre (Anthony B. Jenkins) — with limited financial resources and long-worn-out nerves. (She's separated from her husband, who is deployed in Iraq.) Traditionally, the protagonist in a horror movie is a besieged innocent, but before “The Deliverance” delves into the demonic possession aspect, it focuses on Ebony's inner demons: her inclination to physically discipline her children and her tendency to unleash harsh, rage-filled outbursts on everyone around her, even the devil. (Standing at the top of the basement stairs, where flies are buzzing, she yells, “If somebody’s down there, I’ll fuck you up!” )

Ebony, whose volatile temperament has landed her in jail, grapples with alcohol addiction but appears to be more sober these days. Nevertheless, even when she's not drinking, we see her strike Dre across the mouth at the dinner table because he voiced his desire for milk, accusing her of being too stingy to purchase it (she claims he's lactose intolerant but admits to never seeking medical advice). Is Ebony the film's equivalent of Mary, the abusive mother played by Mo'Nique in “Precious”? Not at all, but there are undeniable similarities. She's a mother who has been hardened by life's trials, sometimes resorting to unkindness. However, she's also fiercely protective, unleashing her fiery wrath on a teenage bully in their neighborhood.

Daniels aims to depict Ebony as a vessel for the oppressive forces of socioeconomic and racial inequality that have plagued her life, turning it into a constant struggle. The film doesn't excuse her actions, but it does highlight how her internal demons mirror societal ills. Day, with a face etched with expressive misery and the intensity of a volatile explosion, portrays her as a compelling blend of shrew and victim. Mo'Nique makes an appearance as the Child Protective Services officer who scrutinizes Ebony like a meticulous detective, searching for any indication of failure that would justify taking away her children.

Despite Day's fiery anger, the most captivating performance in “The Deliverance” belongs to Glenn Close as Berta, Ebony's Caucasian mother, who has come to reside with them. Berta, a recovering addict who found solace in faith, is undergoing chemotherapy, leaving her with sparse, wispy hair. However, she adorns herself with flamboyant blonde wigs and wears revealing clothing, engaging in flirtatious behavior. Berta is locked in a battle with her daughter, yet a sense of care undoubtedly lingers beneath the surface. Witnessing Glenn Close let loose in this role is undeniably entertaining, and her performance is surprisingly well-crafted, even if it makes her Mamaw in “Hillbilly Elegy” seem restrained by comparison.

The children start exhibiting strange behavior. Dre pounds on the basement door and then stands there like a zombie. At school, all three engage in disturbing acts involving bodily fluids. Is this a reflection of their suffering from domestic abuse? Or are they being possessed by spirits? The film suggests it's both, which is supposed to be its intriguing aspect. However, once the devil actually takes over, and an exorcist (or rather, an apostle , played by Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor from “Origin”) arrives to perform an exorcism (or, more accurately, a deliverance , which is essentially the same thing), Daniels resorts to the tried-and-true tropes of the genre: levitation, skin discoloration, and spider-like limbs cracking. The twist is that Ebony ends up confronting her own inner demons, literally facing herself. But those demons, once real, prove to be only half as interesting.