Tribeca Review: 'The Devil’s Bath' Looks at a Very Shocking, Unexplored Chapter of European History.

By Sara Clements | Film | June 12, 2024 |

By Sara Clements | Film | June 12, 2024 |

The Devil’s Bath, the latest from horror directing duo, Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala, opens with the cries of a baby. A woman, presumed to be its mother, picks up the infant and tries to soothe them with a walk in the woods. But then…the unthinkable happens. “I’ve committed a crime,” the woman says as she brings herself to be executed. Witnessing the murder of a baby is a wild, shocking way to open a movie, but this act is based on historical court records that are equally as shocking. The Devil’s Bath looks at a very dark, unexplored chapter of European history.

A big trigger warning for suicide is needed here because this is a film all about that. Or rather, what historian Kathy Stuart coined as “suicide by proxy.” The film is set in 1750 Austria, during a time of strict Catholic and Protestant faith. So, if you were depressed and wanted to commit suicide, you were out of luck because suicide is the worst of all sins. As a result, many with depression (the “devil’s bath” in 18th-century vernacular) attempted to end their lives by committing murder. Before execution, they could confess and be cleansed of their sins to reach heaven. As the film explains, more than 400 cases of such crimes were documented in the German-speaking world alone. History has not been kind to women, so it’s no surprise that of those cases, the majority were women. Children were the primary victims of these murders because it was believed to be an act in their favor, saving them from sin.

The Devil’s Bath is unlike any other horror film. Its closest counterpart would be films about witches, as it could be said that their trials were also examples of the state killing women suffering from mental illness. This “devil’s bath” was as much of a taboo then as it is today, and is still a major illness that many suffer from. As the film looks at one woman in particular, navigating her expectations as a wife, you see a very familiar patriarchal environment that continues to weigh women down.

The film’s opening moments, which are not for the faint of heart, transition to a scene of a joyful occasion. A village is in celebration as a young couple, Wolf (David Scheid) and Agnes (Anja Plaschg), get married. As we are invited to witness their customs, which include gifting the bride a finger for good luck in childbearing, we wonder if the blushing bride will succumb to the same fate as many women before her. And there are warnings early on: Agnes comes across the display of a butchered woman’s corpse, one who had committed “suicide by proxy”.

We are privy to everyday life in this fishing village, as Agnes tries to get accustomed to life separated from her family and get accustomed to her role as a wife. Wolf’s mother (Maria Hofstätter) is always around, endlessly critical of Agnes and the topic of children is always on her lips. There’s one problem though: Wolf refuses to have sex with Agnes. So, the only thing she has to rely on is the power of prayer - and prayer is a big part of this community. When church bells ring, they must pause what they’re doing and pray. They even pray over their food while cooking as though it’s a spice to make a meal more flavourful.

Her life, introduced to us joyously under sunlight, gets increasingly dark and gloomy. Death seems to be everywhere. Many people have drowned in the lake where they get their fish, and the camera lingers on dead fish heads like they hold spirits. There are bones scattered everywhere. People discarded. It’s a very dark film about a very dark time, especially for a childless woman. Women who didn’t have children were treated like outcasts, and Agnes’s depression seems to manifest due to the fact that she can’t fulfill the duty that is imposed on her. She’s lost in this place, feels alone, and has a sense that her existence is causing nothing but misfortune. It’s a world not so different from ours, one that continues to drive women insane. She begins a strange ritualistic behavior, controlled by the ever-increasing madness in her inner thoughts.

The biggest gripe that the film causes is the confusion these moments create for the audience. We only see her depression on the outside as it manifests, and aren’t allowed a more internal perspective that could help clear up the confusion of why some events occur the way they do. This is more a fault in the screenplay and not Plaschg’s performance. The newcomer, whose expertise lies more in music (she also composed the film’s score), really surprises here in an extremely demanding role. She carries great vulnerability and strength in her gut-wrenching portrayal of Agnes.

To describe The Devil’s Bath as a hard watch would be an understatement, especially to those who find the subject of suicide most distressing. It’s slow but almost every moment contains an unsettling and arresting image that keeps your attention. It’s a barbaric time, with an ending to this story as shocking as its beginning, but it contains a relevance that’s emotionally affecting.