Madness is simply excessive curiosity. Session 9 was directed by Brad Anderson, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Stephen Gevedon. The film stars Peter Mullan, David Caruso, Josh Lucas, Brendan Sexton III and Stephen Gevedon. Music is composed by Climax Golden Twins and cinematography is handled by Uta Briesewitz. Danvers State Hospital (also known as State Lunatic Hospital at Danvers, The Danvers Lunatic Asylum, and The Danvers State Insane Asylum) in Massachusetts was built in 1874, opened in 1878 and closed in 1992. It’s a place filled with misery, madness, tragedies and troubling treatments. Five men from an asbestos removal company—each dealing with personal issues or needing to prove something—enter the large, bat-shaped building, promised a substantial payment for completing the job within a week. However, over that week, money will become the least of their concerns. Session 9 is psychological horror done exceptionally well; Brad Anderson manages to get nearly everything right in this particularly unsettling subgenre. Like ghost stories, setting is crucial, and few horror locations are as imposing or eerie as the former Danvers State Hospital was. Sadly, it was demolished in 2006/7 to make way for apartments (property developers clearly don’t respect anything beyond their wallets), but the place radiates an unsettling atmosphere throughout the movie. Anderson's decision to shoot on videotape adds to the sense of realism and palpable dread; while it's easy to imagine some of the real suffering that occurred there, Anderson and Briesewitz ensure it remains in our conscious awareness. The film establishes a slow-burn tone from the beginning, which works well because it allows us to understand the characters, their psychological states, and their significance to the story. With the Danvers facility acting as an additional character, all elements come together seamlessly to affect the viewer. It’s a strange thing to say, but giving the story and characters room to develop means that audiences who become invested in the film will start to feel confined, even experiencing achluophobia during the nighttime scenes. Anderson's pacing is flawless; before unleashing the disturbing finale, he slowly guides us (and his excellent cast) through a maze of damp corridors, wards, treatment rooms, caged stairwells and a morgue. Even outdoors during daylight hours, everything feels bleak—either with characters overshadowed by the building or on a roof talking while Gothic turrets watch over them ominously; the ghosts and bitterness of Danvers Hospital are fully present in Anderson's movie. The story connects a tape recording discovered by Mike (Gevedon) to the workers’ unfolding experiences. The tape details nine sessions with a troubled patient named Mary Hobbes, and saying more would spoil things, but it’s undeniably the creepiest recording I’ve ever heard in horror. Adding to the atmosphere are unusual hospital props like a single wheelchair, a hydrotherapy bath or an orbitoclast! You get the idea, I'm sure. Climax Golden Twins provides a suitably jarring score, with disjointed noises and drawn-out tones further enhancing the pervasive unease. The film’s only minor flaw is a silly plot error involving a furnace, and some viewers will likely be disappointed by the ending. While I found it satisfying, I think they could have taken it in another direction. However, it does work well and isn't a convenient resolution; certainly it's better than the alternate ending included on the home video release. It’s a horror film intended for a specific type of horror fan—one who has the patience to appreciate slow-burn psychological scares. Everything is expertly executed by the cast and filmmakers at this naturally unsettling location. 9/10

Source on TMDB