The Devil’s Bath is a new historical, psychological horror piece film that let’s you know, right up front, that is is not playing around. Based on actual incidents from 18th-century Austria, we watch as a woman steals a crying baby from its cradle. She then marches up to the top of a waterfall and, after saying a prayer, she tosses the baby over the spillway. Leaning into the rustic tone of richly produced period movies like The VVitch and The Nightengale, Writer, director duo Severin Fiala and Veronika Franz Agnes study the dynamics of early bucolic life and the trap that many suffering from mental illness found themselves in. The film is heavy, often methodical in its depiction, but is an overall rewarding piece of cinema that shows us how far we have come, and how much further we have yet to go.

Agnes (Anja Plaschg) is to be married to her beloved, Wolf (David Scheid). After a festive village celebration, The two are recognized as a couple and blessed in a special ceremony. The two move into a modest hovel that Wolf aqcuires and they begin their life together. Agnes’ main goal is to be a good wife for her husband and to provide offspring for him. Let’s ignore that he rolls in on their wedding night far too drunk to do anything but sleep. Let’s also ignore that he may have a thing for his male best friend that is only hinted at. No this is all on Agnes.

It’s not that Agnes had no support. In fact, at the beginning of the film, Agnes’ brother offers her the severed finger of the executed woman that killed a baby at the beginning of the film. How is that supposed to help? Beats me. But we see that the earlier, more rural communities were big on the associations of cause and effect to ensure a particular outcome. A broken candle means a bleak future, keeping the horseshoe upright; in this case, a severed finger assists in fertility. This opens up a much more frightening world of rules and logic, however. Those suffering from melancholy were doomed to suffer in silence until merciful death took them under the lord’s good graces. Those who committed the ultimate sin of suicide were never afforded their last chance to be absolved and thus gain access to the kingdom of heaven. For those in anguish, to share their condition would mark them. Their only convoluted path was to commit a sin worthy of death with the chance to be absolved.

Plaschg delivers a towering performance as the troubled Agnes. At first charming and kind, she soon slips into unease and self-doubt through no fault of her own. She follows the village protocol of being a dutiful and resourceful wife with few results. Her personal and spiritual journey and ultimate struggle is beautifully portrayed. Fearless, and intent on representing the many women subjected to victimization in their time, Plaschg delivers one searing scene after another.

Fiala and Agnes are to be commended for depicting the world they are examining with such clarion authenticity. The cinematography by Martin Gschlacht feels rich and stark with its use of color and darkness. The make up and hair by Judith Kröher is frayed, dirty, and remarkable. That’s not to mention the pastoral production design from Andreas Donhauser and Renate Martin. Each of these elements creates a world, an atmosphere that is guaranteed to make you want to go brush your teeth and take a nice long shower.

Still, final credit must go to Fiala and Agnes for not only telling this difficult story, but telling it with unfiltered, very uncomfortable honesty. The Devil’s Bath is a grueling, yet rewarding cinematic experience.