Inspired by the alleged haunting of a rental house in Gary, Indiana, which was inhabited by Latoya Ammons and her three children in 2011, The Redemption generally adheres to the proven Horror movies in Amityville script when it comes to its fearmongering. But Daniels isn’t the type to deliver anonymous attempts at genre, so his attempt at a haunted house story leaves plenty of room to examine the toxic cycles of abuse faced by the family at its center, and he’s free to indulge his penchant for robust, miserable melodrama and showy performances.

Ebony (Andra Day) is a single mother in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, who can barely support her three children, teenagers Nate (Caleb McLaughlin) and Shante (Demi Singleton), and younger Dre (Anthony B. Jenkins), on a low salary while their estranged father is deployed indefinitely to Iraq. Ebony has also taken in her patronizing mother, Alberta (Glenn Close), while the older woman undergoes cancer treatment. With bills piling up endlessly, Ebony is unsure how to keep it all together while also managing her substance abuse, which only makes the family more divided than it already is.

Then things start to rumble at night, and Ebony’s children show not-so-subtle signs of possession. But even as the supernatural rears its ugly head in the first half of the film, The RedemptionDaniels maintains his focus steadfastly on the physical world and, with the help of his outstanding cast, develops strong and complex characterizations.

As an early scene in which Ebony confronts a local bully for provoking Nate shows, Day vehemently claims to be the kind of heroine who takes no offense, something that seems so rare in this day and age of trauma horror. But Ebony also has major weaknesses, frequently falling into drunkenness and lashing out in anger at her own children, something she tries desperately to hide from the dogged child services worker (Mo’Nique, who expertly alternates between anger and grudging compassion for Ebony’s situation) assigned to look after them.

In contrast, Close offers a master class in camp and is reminiscent at times of Nicole Kidman’s Alabama vamp from Daniels’ crazy The newspaper boy. Close struts through the film in a series of revealing outfits and fabulous wigs, making every diva-like moment as the newly pious and happily promiscuous Alberta a feast, whether she’s shamelessly trying to seduce hunky nurse Melvin (Omar Epps) in the chemo clinic or making snide remarks about Ebony’s parenting skills to her grandchildren at the dinner table. Yet when Alberta occasionally reflects on her own failings as a mother, Close’s talent for evoking quietly raw and uncomfortable emotional states ensures that the character isn’t just a one-note caricature.

The explosive mother-daughter dynamic between Ebony and Alberta ultimately forms the backbone of the film, revealing a dark history of abuse passed down through generations that seemingly provided fertile ground for evil spirits. The filmmakers deftly analyze the tensions that come with raising a family as an interracial couple, while also challenging the “angry black woman” label that is unconsciously imposed on Ebony by both the white authorities she turns to for help and her own mother.

But while the two women are in large parts of the The RedemptionThe tension reaches its peak during a house party for Shante’s birthday, where Ebony goes spectacularly out of control, but there are also moments of tenderness between the two. The love that the characters obviously have for each other is particularly evident in a scene in which Alberta, Ebony and Shante attend a screening of Mark Robson’s Valley of the Dolls while braiding each other’s hair while Dre and Nate watch in amused silence.

Daniels succeeds so well in bringing us into the human drama of The Redemption that it seems almost unnecessary when the supernatural elements inevitably take over in the final act. When the children start speaking in tongues and climbing up the walls, Ebony eventually manages to get a priest (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor) to perform the obligatory exorcism, but any seasoned horror fan will find little of it truly scary.

Instead of bringing the cheerful garishness of his earlier works to this climax, Daniels lets it go in the lukewarm manner of a incantation entry into the universe. Meanwhile, the human element is largely sidelined, with the biggest casualty being the lack of a satisfying conclusion to Ebony and Alberta’s convoluted narrative trajectory. These two women bring The Redemption brought to life in a way that the ghosts of this story would desperately desire.