Durch die Hölle presents itself as an ambitious exploration of childhood trauma and its devastating consequences, yet stumbles repeatedly in its execution. The film's atmosphere wavers between genuinely unsettling moments and unintentionally comedic missteps, largely due to inconsistent cinematography that can't decide whether it wants to be art house or exploitation. The visual language feels borrowed rather than original, with lighting choices that often work against the intended mood rather than enhancing it.
Velly Beguard delivers the film's sole noteworthy performance as the troubled protagonist Yves, bringing a raw intensity that occasionally transcends the material's limitations. His portrayal of psychological deterioration carries moments of genuine disturbing power, particularly in scenes exploring the character's warped sexuality. Unfortunately, the supporting cast, including Alice Arno, feels wooden and disconnected from the film's darker themes. The performances lack the nuanced understanding necessary to navigate such psychologically complex territory, often reducing potentially powerful scenes to mere shock value.
The film's pacing proves equally problematic, with Brottet struggling to maintain tension throughout the runtime. Key dramatic moments feel rushed while less important sequences drag on interminably. The director's handling of the psychological horror elements lacks sophistication, relying too heavily on surface-level provocations rather than developing genuine psychological depth. When the film does attempt serious psychological exploration, it often feels superficial and exploitative rather than meaningful.
The cinematography, while occasionally striking, suffers from an identity crisis that undermines the overall vision. Certain shots demonstrate technical competence, but the visual storytelling lacks cohesion and purpose. The film's low budget becomes painfully apparent in crucial moments, with production values that distract from rather than support the narrative's more ambitious goals.
