The Devil's Bath
Austria in the 18th century. Forests surround villages. Killing a baby gets a woman sentenced to death. Agnes readies for married life with her beloved. But her mind and heart grow heavy. A gloomy path alone, evil thoughts arising.
Michael Heimgartner reviewed
March 14, 2025•
7/10 – A Devastating Portrait of Isolation
The Devil’s Bath (2024) is not just a film—it’s an experience that weighs on you like a stone. Directed by the brilliant duo behind Goodnight Mommy, this Austrian period drama immerses the audience in the suffocating loneliness and despair of a woman trapped in the rigid expectations of the 18th century.
The film is shot with a documentary-like realism, making the protagonist’s struggles feel painfully authentic. Every frame is carefully composed, capturing both the beauty of the era’s landscapes and the suffocating bleakness of its societal constraints. The dialogue, thick with Austrian dialect, adds to the immersion—though as a Swiss viewer, I found subtitles necessary to fully grasp it.
This is not an easy film to watch. Themes of mental illness, isolation, and even violence against children make it deeply unsettling. The film’s slow, methodical pacing reinforces the protagonist’s crushing despair, mirroring her descent into hopelessness. In many ways, its oppressive tone and brutal inevitability reminded me of The Substance.
While The Devil’s Bath is undoubtedly heavy, it also feels essential. Mental health struggles—especially among women in oppressive systems—are as relevant today as they were in the 18th century, yet they still receive too little attention. It’s not a film for casual viewing, but for those willing to engage with its weighty themes, it’s a deeply affecting piece of cinema.
Michael Heimgartner reviewed
March 14, 2025•
7/10 – A Devastating Portrait of Isolation
The Devil’s Bath (2024) is not just a film—it’s an experience that weighs on you like a stone. Directed by the brilliant duo behind Goodnight Mommy, this Austrian period drama immerses the audience in the suffocating loneliness and despair of a woman trapped in the rigid expectations of the 18th century.
The film is shot with a documentary-like realism, making the protagonist’s struggles feel painfully authentic. Every frame is carefully composed, capturing both the beauty of the era’s landscapes and the suffocating bleakness of its societal constraints. The dialogue, thick with Austrian dialect, adds to the immersion—though as a Swiss viewer, I found subtitles necessary to fully grasp it.
This is not an easy film to watch. Themes of mental illness, isolation, and even violence against children make it deeply unsettling. The film’s slow, methodical pacing reinforces the protagonist’s crushing despair, mirroring her descent into hopelessness. In many ways, its oppressive tone and brutal inevitability reminded me of The Substance.
While The Devil’s Bath is undoubtedly heavy, it also feels essential. Mental health struggles—especially among women in oppressive systems—are as relevant today as they were in the 18th century, yet they still receive too little attention. It’s not a film for casual viewing, but for those willing to engage with its weighty themes, it’s a deeply affecting piece of cinema.
