Movie Review ~ The Devil’s Bath

Often, the scariest films are those where fact and folklore intertwine.  On the surface, a title like The Devil’s Bath casts a certain shadow, giving the impression of an open-and-shut horror film that is far different from what Austrian directors Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala have cooked up.  For the strong-willed and patient, the filmmakers behind Goodnight Mommy and The Lodge have readied a chilling testament to human desperation based on a macabre reality that only comes into focus after the gruesome final frames have vanished from view.  Prepare to be haunted.

Set against the backdrop of 18^th-century Austria, the prologue wastes little time demonstrating how far over the line its boundaries lie.  A child left unattended for a moment is taken by a desperate woman far from its home and…doesn’t return.  The woman suffers a far worse fate, one we see in briefly brutal detail as her body is left on permanent display to decay before the focus shifts to our main character, a deeply religious bride-to-be, as she prepares to leave the home she shares with her mother and brother.

With little backstory provided, we gather that Agnes (Anja Plaschg) has led a sheltered life, and her marriage to Wolf (David Scheid) represents an enormous step emotionally and physically.  Though ready to start a life with her husband and seemingly prepared for all the physical and mental duties this requires, she doesn’t grasp the breadth of the change until it’s too late.  Her dreams of marital bliss quickly curdle into a nightmare of isolation and growing despair as her husband (who shoulders frustrating demons he can’t express as well) grows disinterested and her ever-present mother-in-law (Maria Hofstätter) continually attempts to exert dominance over her.

Though Agnes tries to adjust to life within this new community, with its own set of customs and work ideals, she finds that her free spirit is broken easily.  On one of her walks through the dense forest, she finds the execution site of the woman we saw in the opening and the remains of her body.  Not yet gone to the worms, the corpse tells a violent story of rage and pain.  Agnes develops a fascination with the crime and what compelled the woman to commit such a heinous act in the eyes of their religion.  As her loneliness and emotional suffering worsen, thoughts of dark deeds begin to form within Agnes, plunging her once vibrant spirit into a place of decay.

Franz and Fiala have developed a taste for this kind of familial horror, with a particular interest in mothers or mother figures that pose a threat to children in their orbit.  They continually tease out the complexities present within caregivers and the burden that gets placed on them to be everything for everyone but nothing to themselves.  This can lead to the emptiness that drives them to madness and horrific acts that, without the context the filmmakers have worked to provide, can appear to be purely evil.

In The Devil’s Bath (premiering on Shudder), they’ve refined their style further, creating an unflinching picture of psychological torment and brutality not for the faint of heart.  Scenes featuring gut-wrenching violence aren’t there to shock but to illustrate the harsh realities of the era and force viewers to confront the lengths to which desperate people will go to find peace.  This bleak atmosphere comprises skillfully metered tension, a slow-burn approach that gives jaw-dropping moments maximum impact.  It’s profoundly disturbing, especially considering the film is based on Kathy Stuart’s extensive research on historical records.

Delivering a tour de force performance (and I don’t use that term lightly), Austrian performance artist Plaschg (who, as Soap&Skin, also performs the film’s spine-shattering score) has a raw intensity that is mesmerizing and unsettling.  Her transformation from pious naïveté to dead-eyed torment borders on primal, and it’s a role that demands everything from the actress.  The level to which Plaschg rises speaks to a frightening commitment we don’t often see in film.

Meticulously crafted costumes and an immersive production design transport viewers to an oppressively claustrophobic world where superstition and religious fervor have a hold stronger than sound reason.  The cinematography from Martin Gschlacht (Club Zero) captures the stark beauty of the Austrian landscape (repeated shots of mist clouds slowly descending into the valley are at once ominous and breathtaking), and Plaschg’s Soap&Skin discordant soundscape ties it all together, mirroring the cracking psyche of our doomed heroine.

As this chilling tale of mental anguish, familial control, and religious torment moves toward its inevitable but gut-wrenching conclusion, it understands the price it is asking you to pay.  Reserving its most shocking moments for the dark finale, it’s impossible to look away even as the goosebumps threaten to overtake you.  Offering an emotionally intense glimpse into the recesses of a soul unable to find rest, The Devil’s Bath is disturbing and harrowing but masterfully executed.