Demon

Peter is a British man who has come to rural Poland to marry Zaneta, whose family owns an old estate in the countryside. The night before the wedding, digging on the property alone, he falls into a pit and finds human bones — the skeleton of a woman, buried without a marker. He says nothing.

The wedding begins the next day in the family's large barn. There is drinking, music, dancing. During the reception, Peter begins to change: trembling, convulsions, words coming out of him in Yiddish he does not speak. The family tries to manage it quietly — nerves, too much vodka, the stress of the day. The music plays on.

A schoolteacher at the party recognizes what he is seeing: a dybbuk. A displaced Jewish soul, unable to rest, that has entered a living body. The woman whose bones Peter found died on this property — likely during the war — and was buried there in secret, without ceremony, without a name. She has been waiting.

The possession deepens. Peter moves between himself and Hana — the woman inside him — speaking in fragments, reaching for something no one at the party can give her. Zaneta's father grows increasingly desperate to contain it, to keep the wedding going, to keep the guests from understanding what they are witnessing.

By dawn, Peter is gone. The guests begin to leave. The conversations are careful, evasive. By the time the cars pull away from the estate, the collective decision has already been made: this did not happen, or if it did, it will not be spoken of. The film ends in silence — the same silence that buried Hana in the first place.