O Banho do Diabo

I went into this with low expectations. It started off seemingly innocent enough. I wasn't sure where the movie was going. Without giving anything away, I will say that the movie shocks you before long. There are some scenes that run on too long but overall the movie was pretty good. The depiction of life in 1750s Germany was grim but there were moments of happiness. The main character's descent into mental illness was sad to say the least. The treatment at the hands of the barbers of the time only made things worse. I couldn't believe that things like that actually happened and was horrified to find out how often these things took place.

My only complaint is thst there was no explanation for why people were punished in certain ways.

This film is about depression and suicide in 18th century rural Austria.

It is wonderfully shot and we're told it is historically accurate and based on true events of actual women from that period.

This is not a horror film to be clear.

This is not a must-see film, either.

I think it may be an interesting film for psychology students or teachers, and perhaps for film students.

If one is familiar with depression and interested in it's historical interpretation, this film is relevant.

Other than those instances, I would not watch this film. Its simply bleak from start to finish and there's no redemption for anyone. You'll feel bad during and after your viewing.

Again, this is a well-shot, historical perspective on suicide by proxy. I felt that it was unnecessary to watch this film to understand that phenomenon.

It surely does take a significant amount of effort to recreate bygone era themes and this movie does that execution exceedingly well. From rituals to clothing to food, audiences would be thrilled and enamored to just comprehend what life was like back then.

Then it's the core theme of the movie, which revolves around what depression was like back then and how people dealt with it. Very much compelling and thought provoking.

But in between, this movie also has hideously slow pacing which can make audience yawn or even fall asleep, dreaming between 21st and 16th century.

There's a lot that could've been done here, but it seems the filmmakers decided to focus more on minute details of how people lived back then, than on developing a storyline that showcased how depression evolved.

Not a bad watch, but not something I would highly recommend as well. Gore was mediocre and felt more pushy and relevant.

From the Austrian filmmaking duo behind Goodnight Mommy & The Lodge comes a folk horror steeped in chilling ambience & haunting imagery that turns to historical pages to find its bleak story and offers a fascinating exploration of depression, religion, superstition, mental illness & repressed sexuality through a young married woman's unraveling as she grows despondent in her marriage.

Written & directed by Veronica Franz & Severin Fiala, the film sets its grim tone right away with the disturbing scene that opens the picture and then sprinkles the story with harrowing images that surface every now n then. The period setting has an authentic vibe to it, thanks to the deft research, lush greenery location, small pockets of civilisation, stone-built houses & other props of 18th century Austria.

However, the slow pace & overlong runtime do hinder the investment before the final act wakes the viewers up with a gut-punching shock. Much of the film rests on the shoulders of its leading lady and Anja Plaschg more than delivers on that front with an impressive showcase. Anchoring the plot with finesse, she expertly portrays her character's growing despondency & desperation and holds the film together.

Overall, The Devil's Bath is a intelligently crafted, patiently narrated & strongly acted historical horror that benefits from its period-specific details, horrifying elements & Plascha's committed performance but the slow-burn pace at which it all unfolds won't appease every palate. But its powerful ending does stick with the viewers for a while and out of all films from these directors, their latest is easily their best work so far.

As the saying goes, nothing is more chilling than terrifying events based on true stories. The Devil's Bath is one such film that exemplifies this adage. This psychologically intense period piece, while not a bonafide horror film, will leave you deeply disturbed. For the fans of "Good Night Mommy" and "The Lodge" may find their expectations subverted, so let me tell you to keep your expectation low since this film is but rather a period piece rooted in psychological horror.

The film opens with a shocking scene that sets the tone for what will be fully explored in the climax. A woman throws an infant over a waterfall and then confesses to her crime and surrendering herself to authorities. Flash forward a few years, and we meet Agnes, a young bride full of hope for the future. However, her life quickly takes a dark turn when her husband, Wolf, proves to be both emotionally distant, financially irresponsible and her mother-in-law's domineering control add to the burden. Agnes's desire for love, companionship, and a child is thwarted, leading to a descent into despair. Despite her nightly longing for her husband, her desires remain unfulfilled, and she is denied the joy of motherhood. The film explores the psychological toll this takes on her, as she descends into madness. She falls victim to superstition, tradition, and the oppressive weight of patriarchal dominance.

Anja Plaschg (Agnes) performance is a standout. She's got this haunting way of drawing you into her character's world. The confession scene is particularly chilling, a real gut-punch of a performance. She's also the brains behind the film's score, which is totally eerie. You might know her band Soap&Skin from the song 'Me and the Devil'. Martin Gschlacht, the visionary behind Goodnight Mommy, crafts a bleak and unforgiving landscape. The film's 35mm aesthetic lends a timeless quality to the story, immersing the viewer in a world of hopelessness. Gschlacht's cinematography is a work of art, deserving of the Silver Bear he received at Berlinale.

In closing, The film's influence is evident in its slow-burn narrative with psychological undertone. The film's tone and themes reminded me of Lars von Trier's Melancholia (2011), Ursula Reuter Christiansen's Skarpretteren (1973), and the works of Jan Troell, Terrence Malick, Helma Sanders-Brahms, Cecilia Magni, and Robert Eggers. Regardless, the film's emotional impact is profound. Agnes Schickin's plight is heartbreaking, and those who stay till the end will feel a deep sympathy for her, Ewa Lizlfellner, and the many others, including the children.