Il Demonio (1963)

Il Demonio starts in a striking way. It claims to be based entirely on a true story, though that hardly seems likely, at least in any meaningful way. In a style that recalls its American contemporary Burn, Witch, Burn, we're introduced to the story by a voiceover urging us to take everything deadly seriously and to believe every bit of its dissemination of folk beliefs, rituals, ceremonies, and superstitions, only here it's not done for comic effect so much as out of historical anguish. It concerns that old witchy canard: the love potion that bewitches a man to fall in love with you, and takes it to a dark, and ugly conclusion that I feel uneasy about.

But where were we? Oh yes: imagine whatever the inverse of Valerie and Her Weeks of Wonders would be and you likely have a pretty good idea of what to expect from this nightmarish descent into depravity and violence done unto a young woman who may or may not be mentally ill. Everywhere our heroine turns, she's mauled, manhandled, or molested, and sometimes all three. While the film initially comes off as quite misogynistic with its depiction of the lead as vindictive, spiteful, and quite hysterical, by the end it's gone from extreme to the other, and we can't help but wish that our poor lead had somebody, anybody, to save her. There's this pervading sense of doom that keeps you invested, and is helped by the film's relative ambiguity over the effectiveness of our lead's indulgence in black magic. Odd for a film that begins by telling the audience to respect and fear its theatrical handling of the occult, yes, but not entirely unwelcome. 

So, it's a psychological horror film then? Yes, I suppose so; of a mixture of Type #1 (Repulsion) and Type #2 (Rosemary's Baby) where on the one hand our protagonist may indeed be mentally ill, but on the other, those around her are seemingly conspiring to drive her mad at every turn, and being committed is seen as the ultimate threat. Still, certain aspects of the supernatural are present, but are never exactly followed up on in the film or indeed, even referenced after they initially happen in a way that suggests either a red herring or messy writing, but I'm not exactly willing to say either way. I love the detailed screenplay that really seems to have done significant research into regional practices and beliefs regarding witchcraft, and I especially love the exorcism scene where I discovered this film has an honest-to-god spider walk scene, and in '63 no less! It comes at just the right time in the film's runtime as well, unlike another film I could mention... 

Yes, the story was great... up until maybe the final minute or so, when it suddenly became especially ugly and violent and then was just... over. It felt uninspired and unsure of where or how to wrap up the story, and so it opted for maximum shock value in a way that did not cap off the story properly and left me with a slightly bitter taste in my mouth, but hey: everything up until that point had been quite good, so it's hardly enough to ruin the overall experience, though it tries its best to.

Technically, the film is messy and has the usual Italian quirks, namely obvious dubbing in many places (although maybe not as much as you'd expect, to be fair) and a general lack of polish. The continuity and editing in particular are very rough, especially in the beginning of the film, in a way that might cause audiences to guess the film as being much older than it actually is, but I'd be damned for eternity if I lied and said the performances weren't great. It plays it safe with its visuals, but every once in a while manages to conjure up a moody image or two, and the atmosphere is quite sure of itself, mixing the screams and obscenities of accusing townsfolk and their mark with quiet, shadowy moments as well. 

So overall, I enjoyed the film. It almost reminds me of Hagazussa, sans newborn, where a woman is driven deeper and deeper into isolation and black magic by a society that fears and so scorns her. It was quite slow, especially early on, but it was mysterious enough that I was never quite sure where things were headed, even right up until the anti-climatic ending. As an early example of sympathetic psychological horror it's quite fascinating and occasionally even stomach-churning, and as a folk horror thriller, it offers up another obscure gem born from ancient regional beliefs and practices, but I do wish it had tied itself up a bit better, is all.