There are films that entertain, films that thrill, and then there are films like The Devil’s Bath – experiences that crawl under your skin and stay there, long after the credits roll. Let me tell you, this is not a film you simply watch. It’s one you endure, one that pulls you into its bleak, 18th-century Austrian landscape and forces you to confront the raw, unsettling realities of a bygone era.
As a long-time critic and a sucker for horror movies, I’ve seen my share of disturbing cinema. But, The Devil’s Bath carves out its own niche, as this review will explore, not through jump scares or supernatural boogeymen, but through a profound, historically-rooted psychological dread.
Behind the Bleak Beauty: Creators, Cast, and Craft of The Devil’s Bath
But before I take you to the story, here’s a little appreciation for the geniuses behind the tale. The creative minds behind this unsettling journey are Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala. If those names ring a bell, it’s likely due to their previous forays into the deeply psychological and often disturbing, with critically acclaimed films like the chilling Goodnight Mommy (2014) and the unnerving The Lodge (2019).
They have a distinct talent for building atmosphere and exploring the darker facets of the human psyche. The Devil’s Bath is a stark continuation of this thematic exploration. Leading this harrowing tale is Anja Plaschg, also known by her musical moniker Soap&Skin.
Plaschg, who impressively also composed the film’s haunting score, delivers a performance that is both fragile and intensely powerful, embodying the tragic descent of her character with gut-wrenching authenticity.
While perhaps not a household name in acting circles for many, her artistic versatility is on full display here, recalling her evocative musical work and previous smaller film roles like in Sicilian Ghost Story (2017).
Visually, The Devil’s Bath is stunning. The cinematography is a masterclass in creating an eerie, oppressive vibe. Every frame feels like an oil painting from a forgotten, sorrowful age, the muted colours and stark landscapes of rural Austria perfectly mirroring the internal desolation of its protagonist.
Paired with Plaschg’s minimalist yet profoundly effective musical score, the film cultivates an atmosphere thick with unspoken anguish and the weight of tradition, delivering the emotional core of each scene with chilling precision.
— SPOILER ALERT: The following sections delve into significant plot details and the disturbing nature of the film. Proceed with caution if you wish to experience the film unspoiled. —
The Story of Agnes: A Psychological Unraveling in 18th-Century Austria
The narrative, after an epilogue scene (which you should experience yourself), opens as Agnes (Anja Plaschg) is being joyously celebrated at her wedding to Wolf (David Scheid). This moment of communal festivity, however, is the precipice from which her psychological downfall begins.
On their first night together, you, as the viewer, share Agnes’s quiet bewilderment as Wolf shows a distinct lack of intimate interest in her – a pattern of rejection that chillingly persists. Agnes, a woman of her time, yearns for a child, a societal expectation and a personal desire she fervently prays for. But the coldness of her marriage and the isolating nature of her new life begin to erode her mental well-being.
You watch, almost uncomfortably closely, as Agnes doesn’t descend into outright ‘madness‘ in a theatrical sense, but rather succumbs to a profound weariness, a soul-crushing fatigue with her existence.
She starts looking for an escape, any escape. Her initial attempt to return to her maternal home faces societal pressure. Beyond that, she’s promptly pushed back into the stifling confines of her life with Wolf. A desperate act of consuming rat poison follows, but even death seems to elude her grasp, prolonging her suffering.
Now, I must admit, some scenes were a little extra on the gore for my personal taste. It’s not gratuitous in a slasher-film way, but rather a stark, unflinching depiction of brutality and self-harm that can be difficult to witness. It’s also not a movie you should watch while you’re eating something.
Yet, for all its disturbing content, there were no genuine scary elements, no ghosts or demonic entities in the traditional horror sense. The horror here is entirely human, rooted in despair and societal cruelty.
The Devil’s Bath Ending Explained: History, Blood Rituals, and Desperate Acts
The film culminates in an act of unimaginable desperation: Agnes murders a child.
This isn’t a spoiler offered lightly, but it’s crucial to understanding the film’s title and its harrowing exploration of a phenomenon known as “suicide by proxy.” In this specific historical context, suicide was a mortal sin damning one to an eternity in hell, but a murderer, if they confessed and repented before execution, could still theoretically find salvation.
Agnes’s horrifying act is thus framed as a twisted, desperate path to her own desired death and a perverse form of release.
The film’s title, “Des Teufels Bad” (The Devil’s Bath), refers to a contemporary term for severe melancholy or depression. The ending, and indeed the entire premise, is steeped in a chillingly real historical context. Between the 16th and 18th centuries in certain parts of Europe, including Austria, there existed a macabre belief. It was about the medicinal properties of the blood of freshly executed criminals.
As you see depicted in the film, following an execution, townspeople would indeed gather with bowls, mugs, and pieces of cloth to collect the still-warm blood. Some even paid the executioner for it. This blood was believed to cure ailments. Ironically, the very melancholy that might have driven individuals like Agnes to their desperate acts.
The film doesn’t shy away from this grim reality, presenting it as another layer of the societal and psychological landscape that shaped these tragic events. The desire to be executed, rather than die by suicide, was a way to ensure a “good death“. It’s a death that included a public spectacle, repentance, and a strange communal ritual.
Here’s What I Think!
The Devil’s Bath is a challenging, deeply unsettling film. It’s a historical psychodrama that burrows into the darkest corners of human despair, fueled by societal pressure and religious dogma. Franz and Fiala are unflinching in their portrayal, and Anja Plaschg delivers a towering performance.
The movie also reminded me of The VVitch: A New-England Folktale, directed by Robert Eggers. Had a very similar vibe if we leave supernatural elements out of the comparison.
While its deliberate pacing and grim subject matter won’t be for everyone. As I’ve mentioned, the lack of traditional horror scares might disappoint those expecting a different kind of fright (hence the 3.5 out of 5 rating). Its power lies in its disturbing authenticity and its haunting exploration of a forgotten chapter of history.
It’s a film that makes you ponder the crushing weight of expectation and the desperate lengths one might go to escape an unbearable reality. It’s a potent, if profoundly uncomfortable, cinematic experience, a sentiment echoed in many The Devil’s Bath reviews.
Anyway, now that you have everything you need, to decide whether you want to watch the movie or not. But before you go, don’t forget to subscribe to CineCinnati. You will often find me sending you exclusive reviews of movies and shows from around the world delivered straight to your inbox.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ) about The Devil’s Bath
The Devil’s Bath is a historical psychological drama set in 18th-century Austria. It follows a young woman named Agnes whose mental health deteriorates after her marriage. Which leads her down a dark path to find an escape from her oppressive life and profound melancholy, ultimately exploring the historical phenomenon of “suicide by proxy.”
The specific story of Agnes is fictional. However, the film is based on extensive historical research into real cases and societal practices in 18th-century Austria. Mainly concerning women, depression (then termed “melancholy”), and the extreme measures some took to end their lives in a way that aligned with religious beliefs about salvation.
The film is directed by Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala. They are known for their previous psychological horror films Goodnight Mommy and The Lodge.
It’s more accurately described as a historical psychodrama or folk horror with deeply disturbing themes and some graphic scenes. However, it does not rely on supernatural elements or traditional jump scares. The horror is psychological and rooted in real-world despair and brutality.
“The Devil’s Bath” was a contemporary term for a state of severe melancholy or depression. The film explores this condition within its historical and societal context.
The Devil’s Bath has been noted for streaming on Shudder and may be available on other VOD platforms depending on your region.
