There are many places we are encouraged to explore and experience their splendour, whether they are in the natural or constructed world. Yet, horror films set in these places very rarely yield particularly effective results, with the exception of a few that are truly innovative. Yet, the sense of adventure and familiarity with the excitement of exploring the unknown has proven to be a valuable formula for many cases of intensely horrifying works of art, as we have seen throughout the history of the genre. In his seminal masterpiece Deliverance, James Dickey tells the story of a quartet of urban men who decide to spend a weekend canoeing down the Cahulawassee River of Georgia (a fictional body of water heavily inspired by the Chattooga River that flows through the same state), which is on the verge of being dammed – and what they initially expect to be an enthralling adventure and an opportunity for bonding while stepping out of their humdrum life in the city turns out to be the most excruciating and terrifying experience of their entire lives. The novel is notable for being turned into a film, which was helmed by John Boorman (one of the select few British filmmakers that has proven to be capable of capturing the spirit of Americana better than most native directors), and which has come to be seen as one of the most vital works of horror cinema to emerge from the 1970s, an era where Hollywood was undergoing many changes, most of which related to the new opportunities presented to young filmmakers, who were now finally liberated from the more conservative shackles of prior generations. Deliverance is an absolute masterpiece and a film that has withstood the test of time better than many similarly-themed films produced at the time. Blending psychological horror with intensely disturbing thrills and the slightest sliver of dark comedy, Boorman adapts Dickey’s novel in a way that not only pays sufficient tribute to the original text but introduces an entirely new language to the medium in terms of technique and structure, something that is very rarely discussed when looking at the lasting legacy of this extraordinarily engaging piece of cinema.

Deliverance is a film in which the narrative foundation is established from its first moments – the quirky but slightly sinister opening scene, in which we are introduced to the four central protagonists as well as the surroundings (which becomes something of a character in itself) creates a sense of unease, but also clarifies exactly what this film will examine, which is primarily the challenges that come when we succumb to our curiosity and fall victim to our delusions of grandeur, thinking that we are capable of challenging not only the natural world but the people who are insistent on keeping it as such, which has been the basis for quite a few horror films over the decades, with this being one of the most notable. Dickey’s novel, as well as Boorman’s interpretation of it, was much more than just a tale of man going up against nature and realizing that it is an entity that no living being can ever hope to conquer in its entirety, even when this does seem to be the primary message driving this film forward and making it such an intimidating piece of storytelling both conceptually and in terms of its underlying ideas. Instead, this is a film that can be broadly viewed as being about the American experience – the opening scene includes the now-infamous “Duelling Banjos” sequence, in which one of the city-dwelling protagonists engages in friendly musical collaboration with a sinister local, which firmly establishes that this is a story about two entirely different social circles that intersect throughout – at first it’s congenial and pleasant, but as they venture further away from civilisation, the more they begin to see that they are not entirely welcome, not because they are strangers, but rather represent a kind of societal destruction that seems to believe that they can turn the most sacred of locations into their playground. It’s an extremely disturbing glimpse at the differences between communities, and while it is a lot more violent and extreme than some other works that tackle the same topic, it is nonetheless extraordinarily captivating, and profoundly unsettling from the first haunting moment to the chaotic climax, in which everything begins to fall apart and we see the truth of the situation gradually revealed.

We often tend to focus on the underlying commentary present in Deliverance, but some of the most compelling elements are present in the actual technical aspects, for which Boorman has been duly recognized, albeit perhaps not to the extent that he may warrant based on the incredible direction contained within the film. There is not an ounce of fat to be found anywhere in this film – it is a lean, economical piece of storytelling that does not waste a single moment and removes every piece of unnecessary exposition, favouring a more direct approach in which the central themes are established, and what follows is essentially just circling back to the main subject in some way or another. It’s masterful and feels genuinely invigorating in a way we have not seen all that often, and it showcases Boorman’s mastery of his craft beyond simply going through the motions of adapting an already challenging text. The foundation of Deliverance is the conflict between both man and nature and the urban and rural, both of which are served magnificently by the direction – the film moves at a rapid pace, being as sparse and unforgiving as the surroundings. The music is carefully curated to establish the mood rather than driving the narrative, while the visuals are bleak and intentionally cold, with the natural world rarely looking this simultaneously stunning and terrifying. Most of Deliverance is defined by its atmosphere – there are long stretches of pulsating adventure and a centrepiece scene in which the horror, which has been lingering just out of frame, finally envelopes the story and we are plunged into a state of existential despair once the protagonists discover that they are flirting dangerously close with their fate. It’s unsettling in a way that feels revolutionary, and while it does appear quite simple in terms of its execution, there is nothing rudimentary about how Boorman handles all of these ideas, tossing them together to form this deeply unnerving and profoundly unsettling examination of society and its collapse from within, as done through some of the most unquestionably ingenious methods that came to be extremely influential in subsequent years.

Considering it can be viewed as more of an atmospheric piece than anything else, it is quite surprising to see that Deliverance also functions as a fantastic character study, even if a lot of the allure of the film doesn’t usually get directed towards the performances. This is essentially a story of four men who decide to brave the wilderness as both a break from their ordinary lives and as an opportunity to bond with other like-minded colleagues in a new environment, which is something that I suspect many of us can find somewhat relatable since we know there is always value in seeing an entirely different side to people we know when faced with adversity. The central quartet of characters are expertly brought to life by four actors who were at the very peak of their skills – Burt Reynolds was steadily rising to become one of the most sought-after leading men in Hollywood, and Jon Voight had already proven himself to be a generational talent. They are the de facto leads, the ones that push the film forward and who indirectly play a role in its development of certain ideas, while also not being the sole focus. Ned Beatty and Ronny Cox make their film debuts in this film, and are covertly the best performances – Beatty consistently relies on his homely charm across many films, but it is here where it is used as a means to disarm the viewer since he is the victim of a brutal assault that takes place during the tense centrepiece scene, and which essentially sets off the rest of the film. Cox is unfortunately the sacrificial lamb of the quartet, playing the tragic Drew, who is a participant in the memorable banjo scene, and whose death midway through the film is another major event that inspires some of the most disturbing moments. The cast all work exceptionally well together, and they’re supported by the brief but unforgettable performances of the locals that are peppered throughout the story, making Deliverance an unexpectedly brilliant piece of filmmaking that values its actors to the point of using them to the best of their abilities, and allowing them to showcase their talents in a genre that demanded a lot of them, both physically and emotionally.

Based on both its conceptual framework and the approach taken to realize these ideas, Deliverance is a film that is both exceptionally well-crafted and genuinely intriguing in terms of its premise, which is particularly notable considering how many view horror as being restricted to one or the other, with very few instances of the two being equally weighted in terms of importance and overall impact. Perhaps even referring to this film as a horror may be seen as somewhat tenuous – but the sheer amount of terror, and how Boorman introduces a new cinematic lexicon with this film (albeit in quite a small but significant way) means that it both defies categorization and defines the genres in which it was crafted, the kind of contradiction that only makes sense once we’ve been nestled in the terrifying throes of this film’s impassioned, furious timbre against several concepts, each one methodically deconstructed by this film’s very unique but engaging approach. There is something profoundly disquieting about Deliverance, a quality that we find isn’t as pronounced at the start (although there are some clear overtures that hint towards it), but instead gradually becomes more notable as the film progresses – perhaps it’s the fact that the film follows four ordinary men as they are targetted by unwelcome locals who want to preserve their rural sanctuary, and shows their eventual descent into madness as they battle for their lives. Many tend to see this film as a mere survivalist drama, but there are far too many compelling layers to restrict it to such a one-dimensional description. It’s a film that needs to be experienced to entirely comprehend, with the narrative layers working in tandem with Boorman’s astonishing, captivating direction to create something utterly daring and unsettling in a way that we don’t often find with many horror films that tackle the same subjects.