The Devil’s Bath: A Gruesome Yet Poignant Dive into Austrian Folklore
Introduction: The Art of Audience Torture
Ah, Austrian cinema! If audience torture were an Olympic sport, the likes of Ulrich Seidl and Michael Haneke would be gracing us with gold medals and autographing our victims—sorry, I meant to say “viewers”—for years! It seems like they have a PhD in making us squirm discomfortingly in our seats. But fear not, for in the land of schnitzels and strudel, we’ve just welcomed a fresh set of horror-mongers: Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala, whom you might remember for their previous works like “Ich seh, ich seh” (or as I like to call it, ‘What Not to Watch on a Date Night’).
Meet Agnes: A Slice of Melancholy in the Alps
Our lead, Agnes (played by the extraordinarily talented Anja Plaschg), is essentially the poster child for chocolate cake cravings that go unfulfilled—and no, it’s not just a case of the Monday blues. Agnes’ life in 18th-century Austria is one big, beautiful train wreck, where her severe depression seems entirely reasonable. Surrounded by strict Catholic values, a domineering mother-in-law, and a husband who seems more interested in himself than in her, it’s little wonder why Agnes is on the brink!
Honestly, with a setup like this, one can only wonder if the director followed up with therapy after the filming ended! Who thought it was a good idea to throw in themes of misogyny and generational trauma? Well played, indeed; it’s like watching a dark soap opera but with 100% fewer overacting moments (I see you, daytime TV!).
A Cinematic Dissection with No Anesthesia
Franz and Fiala clearly relish in operating on the audience’s emotional state like a surgeon with a wicked sense of humor. The baptism of blood and ‘folk horror’ intricacies will have you laughing nervously one moment and questioning your life choices the next. The film’s visuals are stunning but serve as exquisite wallpaper draping an excruciatingly chilling narrative.
Imagery That Sticks
One of my favorite moments—or as I call it, “the nature documentary from hell”—is the opening shot of a mother tossing her child into a waterfall. How very literal of Franz and Fiala; I mean, who needs therapy when you can have visceral art like that? It’s a scene that captures the beauty of the Austrian landscape while simultaneously making one ponder if nature should have had a warning label for potential child hazards.
Agnes’ Sad Symphony
As Agnes fights her internal demons (who could use a good chat with Freud, I must say), her self-medication tactics include dragging out dark threads of despair—literally. This isn’t your average sabbatical to the spa! Instead, it’s an agonizing journey where sadness becomes a character in its own right, playing a leading role while the rest of us cringe and shuffle around awkwardly in our seats.
Raising the Stakes of Dark Cinema
The cinematography paired with Anja Plaschg’s astonishing performance delivers an emotional crescendo that’s likely to leave tears and perhaps a few astonished gasps on the floor. There’s a profound honesty about how suffering is portrayed; it’s not flamboyant or exaggerated but hauntingly relatable. It pushes the limits of how far a film can go to make one feel every bit of punch and tenderness alike.
Closing Thoughts
So, is “The Devil’s Bath” a horror film or a darkly comic exploration of despair? Who knows? You might laugh; you might cry; you might just want to book yourself a ticket to therapy afterward. But one thing’s for certain—it’s not your average popcorn flick. Just be prepared for a beautifully painful ride through the unsettling world that Franz and Fiala have crafted.
In summary, “The Devil’s Bath” is for those of us brave enough—or perhaps slightly masochistic enough—to take on the beautiful yet horrifying tapestry that is Austrian folk horror. It may not provide the light-hearted escapism you crave, but it certainly demands your attention and probes your very soul in the process. Enjoy the plunge!
“The Devil’s Bath” – Austria 2024 – Director: Severin Fiala, Veronika Franz – Cast: Anja Plaschg, Maria Hofstätter, David Scheid, Tim Valerian Alberti, Natalija Baranova – Running time: 121 minutes.
One would need to conduct a rigorously designed survey to substantiate claims about Austrian cinema’s unique propensity for audience discomfort. Until such research is done, the prevailing sentiment suggests that Austrian filmmakers, particularly in the realm of psychological tension and emotional anguish, produce works with greater frequency and intensity compared to their global counterparts. For the past three decades, luminaries such as Ulrich Seidl and Michael Haneke have been at the forefront, shaping a niche within the art house scene characterized by extreme emotional scenarios. Following their lead, directors Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala burst onto the scene in 2014 with “Ich seh, ich seh,” crafting narratives that subject viewers to a visceral, almost surgical examination of suffering.
Contrasting with the previous works of prominent auteurs like Seidl and Haneke, as well as the haunting “The Lodge” from Franz and Fiala, the new film “Des Teufels Bad” invites the audience into a much more painfully intimate exploration of its protagonist, Agnes. This film transitions from dissecting her psyche to creating an empathetic lens through which the viewer can grasp the depth of her anguish—ultimately leaving one with a profoundly open heart, as if undergoing the experience without the safety of anesthesia.
Agnes (Anja Plaschg) battles profound depression in a world meticulously crafted to render her illness a seemingly rational response to life’s harsh realities. Set against the backdrop of an austere rural existence in 18th century Austria, where deprivation reigns supreme, one can see that Agnes is trapped in a life devoid of personal agency, overwhelmed by relentless toil. Within this oppressive framework, she grapples with mental health issues compounded by familial ties; her mother-in-law (Maria Hofstätter) exerts a tyrannical control over her, leaving Agnes in a state of profound longing for her own family. Compounding her despair, her husband (David Scheid) neglects their marital duties, focusing instead on his own desires, further exacerbating Agnes’s sense of worthlessness. Additionally, an unwaveringly Catholic worldview “traditionally” places the blame on her for her inability to conceive, adding layers of shame, hopelessness, and self-flagellation to her already overwhelming sadness.
Franz and Fiala expertly navigate the dark waters of the folk horror genre, presenting a universe stripped of modern conveniences like running water and streetlights. The settings are claustrophobic, and while the lush forests and landscapes awe with their beauty, they are equally stifling and repellent. One of the most striking visuals in the film opens with a haunting shot of a waterfall, capturing a mother in an act of desperation as she casts her child into the depths, leading to her own tragic fate—an arresting and sublime image that lingers long after the screen fades to black. Through this lens of folk horror, the film deftly intertwines themes of institutional religiosity with quaint superstitions. In a grim scene where blood from the executed is consumed, viewers are reminded of the chilling realities that escape common religious narratives.
The title “Des Teufels Bad” serves as a hauntingly resonant metaphor for the suffering that comes with melancholy, encapsulating both the plight of Agnes and the broader struggles depicted in the film. Within its folk horror framework, the film presents not just a tale of personal illness but a deep existential torment that reflects the unforgiving world inhabited by its characters. The relentless environment offers them little solace; in one striking scene, Agnes is shown with a thread sewn into her skin that she must manipulate in a desperate bid to extract her sadness. This harrowing act of self-medication culminates in an ominous choice involving rat poison.
“The Devil’s Bad” captivates the audience with its atmospheric, tension-filled visuals of Austria’s stark landscapes and Anja Plaschg’s dissonant score—crafted by Plaschg herself—deepening the emotional resonance of the film. Her performance evolves from a restrained portrayal to an explosive display of intensity, culminating in a gripping final act where her character’s emotions overflow in a cathartic release. The confession scene reaches a level of acting so powerful that it recalls Maria Falconetti’s haunting performance in Carl Theodor Dreyer’s “La Passion de Joan of Arc,” serving as an archetype for cinematic moments where women express their ultimate truths in the face of demise.
Benjamin Moldenhauer
The Devil’s Bath – Austria 2024 – Directors: Severin Fiala, Veronika Franz – Cast: Anja Plaschg, Maria Hofstätter, David Scheid, Tim Valerian Alberti, Natalija Baranova – Running time: 121 minutes.
**Interview with Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala: Directors of “The Devil’s Bath”**
**Editor:** Thank you for joining us today, Veronika and Severin! Your film “The Devil’s Bath” delves deep into the realm of Austrian folklore through a lens of folk horror. What inspired you both to tackle such dark themes in this film?
**Severin Fiala:** Thank you for having us! We are fascinated by the rich tapestry of Austrian folklore and the historical context that shapes our characters. The stories we’ve heard since childhood often involve deep-seated emotions, struggles with societal norms, and folklore that captures the human experience in a raw form. We wanted to bring out the psychological horror that can be found in those historical narratives.
**Veronika Franz:** Yes, exactly! We were particularly interested in how these tales reflect societal pressures—especially against women in the 18th century. Agnes’s journey represents many women’s internal and external struggles against oppressive norms, and we felt it was essential to explore these themes authentically.
**Editor:** Agnes, played by Anja Plaschg, experiences profound sadness and isolation. How do you think her portrayal resonates with contemporary audiences who might be dealing with mental health issues?
**Veronika Franz:** Agnes is a product of her time, trapped in a world where her worth is defined by her ability to conform to societal expectations. However, we believe her struggles are universal and timeless. Many people today face pressures to fit into specific roles, and Agnes’s narrative serves as a reflection of the loneliness and despair that can result from such pressures.
**Severin Fiala:** Exactly, and we sought to create an empathetic lens through which viewers can engage with Agnes’s pain rather than simply view her suffering. Her journey of self-medication through darkness speaks to the battles many face today, and by portraying her challenges honestly, we hope to evoke conversations around mental health.
**Editor:** The film opens with quite a striking and unsettling scene of a mother throwing her child into a waterfall. What was the intention behind this powerful imagery, and how does it set the tone for the rest of the film?
**Severin Fiala:** That scene serves as both a dramatic opening and a symbol of desperation. It forces viewers to confront the extremes of human emotion right from the start. We wanted to juxtapose the stunning beauty of the Austrian landscape with the harsh realities faced by our characters. This duality is central to the film, as it manifests throughout Agnes’s journey.
**Veronika Franz:** It’s about understanding the complexities of nature and human action. Sometimes beauty can be cloaked in darkness, and we wanted to challenge the viewers to explore what lies beneath that surface.
**Editor:** The elements of folk horror seem quite layered in your film, especially regarding themes of institutional religiosity and misogyny. How do these themes intertwine with Agnes’s character?
**Veronika Franz:** Religion plays a significant role in shaping Agnes’s reality. The strict Catholic values she lives under not only stifle her but also create a culture of shame surrounding her inability to conceive, exacerbating her mental health struggles. This complicates her relationships, particularly with her mother-in-law and husband, who represent different aspects of societal expectations.
**Severin Fiala:** By bringing these themes to the forefront, we invite the audience to reflect on how such institutions can affect personal identity and relationships. Agnes’s unraveling teaches us about the broader systems that govern her life and, metaphorically, all our lives.
**Editor:** As creators known for eliciting emotional responses from your audiences, what do you hope viewers take away after experiencing “The Devil’s Bath”?
**Severin Fiala:** We hope audiences will be stirred, perhaps even unsettled. We want them to feel empathy for Agnes and reflect on the constructs that bind her.
**Veronika Franz:** Yes, and perhaps even recognize parts of themselves within her journey. Whether it incites laughter, tears, or a desire for deeper discussion about mental health, we hope it encourages contemplation long after the credits roll.
**Editor:** Thank you so much for your insights, Veronika and Severin. “The Devil’s Bath” certainly promises to be a gripping and thought-provoking experience!
**Severin Fiala & Veronika Franz:** Thank you for having us! We hope you enjoy the plunge.