A woman opens a ۳۰۰‑year‑old box, unleashing a violent spirit – it is the spirit of colonialism and oppression roaring back to life. It is a pivotal scene in Sky’s supernatural series Possession and symbolises a wider shift in Jamaica’s film industry, where directors are increasingly using the landscape to tell Jamaican stories – including those that confront enslavement, trauma and historical memory.
The series is about a biracial British lawyer who travels to Jamaica to investigate a multimillion-pound inheritance dispute, only to uncover a dark, vengeful spirit tied to the plantation’s brutal colonial past.
For the Jamaican director, Storm Saulter, ensuring that the trauma and enduring legacy of enslavement and colonisation were powerfully represented was critical. Caribbean countries are increasingly arguing that centuries of enslavement have left the region at a lasting disadvantage – fuelling renewed calls for reparations.
Dr Lisa Tomlinson, a lecturer in film studies at the University of the West Indies, says the themes in Jamaican films are changing. “They’re now very much connected and reflective of Jamaican stories – stories that were previously taboo or avoided.”
While Jamaican films are not always explicitly about reparations, she argues that many are engaging with the legacies of enslavement through cultural memory. “Reparation is not just a political act,” she says. “It’s also culture. These African‑derived spiritualities, the historical knowledge – when they come through creative expression, what they do is give us authority to tell our own stories.”
This, she says, is a form of “cultural reparation”, a reclaiming of narratives devalued or suppressed under colonialism, and a way of educating audiences about the past in ways that academics or politicians struggle to do. “The arts play a critical role in how we are educated in public awareness around reparation,” she says.
Jacqueline Jackson, Jamaica’s film commissioner, sees the shift too. She says productions such as Possession and Delroy Lindo’s Jabari’s People – shot entirely in Jamaica – reflect growing confidence and ambition among Jamaican creatives. “We are well established as a destination for international productions,” she says. “But what we want to see more of is local production and international collaboration that enables us to tell our own stories.”
Both productions, she notes, worked closely with Jamaican talent to ensure authenticity and demonstrate what is possible when international financing and distribution unite with Jamaican creativity. “They show the growing interest in Jamaican stories and their potential for global audiences,” she says.
Tomlinson believes diaspora film-makers are playing a particularly important role in this shift. Unlike foreign productions that often use Jamaica as an exotic backdrop, diaspora directors are “moving away from the tourist‑gaze depictions” and are “capturing Jamaican everyday life”.
Saulter sees his series as part of a broader political awakening. “The mask has slipped … We’ve been told it’s one thing, and that thing is proven to be false. So there’s a seeking of what is true,” he says.
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He says the box‑opening scene is not simply a plot device, but a metaphor for something larger: the resurfacing of long‑suppressed histories and the growing willingness among Caribbean creatives to confront the legacies of enslavement, inherited trauma and colonial violence through film.
“Literally, we’re going to open up the lid of a ۳۰۰‑year‑old horrible secret,” Saulter said. “It’s the spirit of colonial enslavement and oppression coming roaring back.”
That “spirit”, he explains, is embodied in a character who has lived through centuries of brutality – “a witness to history” – whose presence forces the protagonists to reckon with the past they have inherited.
Saulter’s interest in the subject is rooted in his upbringing. “I grew up in the countryside,” he says. “The Obia man, the church … nine nights … I’ve lived through all of those things.”
His experiences inspired him to tell stories that educate and have “real societal political impact”, while remaining thrilling, intriguing and entertaining. That approach, he argues, allows film-makers to tackle difficult histories. “As opposed to doing something that was like talking heads … we’re bringing you on a journey,” he says.
For Dr L’Antoinette Stines, a Yoruba priestess and cultural expert who advised on Possession, the series’ engagement with Afro‑spiritualist traditions is part of a longer history of resistance.
“Black people have been fighting and using the arts for a very long time. It’s just that there is greater attention on it today,” she says. For decades she has choreographed similar work, she says, and stresses the importance of honouring the academics, poets and creatives who paved the way for today’s boom in authentic Jamaican storytelling.
She praises Saulter’s insistence on authenticity and creating a series that feels both contemporary and deeply rooted, exploring inherited trauma, ancestral memory and the unfinished business of colonialism.
