The film meticulously documents the cyclical labor of pre-industrial womanhood: hauling water, scrubbing laundry in cold lye, scraping animal entrails, tending to a dismissive husband (Wolf), and enduring the passive-aggressive cruelty of her mother-in-law (Gänglin). Each chore is shot in real-time or near-real-time, creating a sensory immersion in drudgery. The house itself becomes a grotesque womb—dark, damp, and organic. Molds bloom on walls; meat rots in the pantry. This is not the quaint “cottagecore” aesthetic but a biopolitical prison. Agnes’s failure to produce a child (she suffers repeated miscarriages and stillbirths) marks her as useless in this economy of reproduction. The film implies that her depression is not merely chemical but systemic: she has no role, no voice, and no escape.
The title refers to a specific, twisted theological paradox of the time. According to historical studies, individuals who felt an overpowering compulsion to commit murder—but wanted to avoid the hellish damnation of suicide—would commit a murder, turn themselves in to the authorities, and be executed. By confessing and asking for forgiveness before their execution, they believed they could secure a place in heaven, bypassing the automatic damnation of taking their own lives.
Why it fascinates us Places like the Devil’s Bath endure in our imagination because they blur boundaries: between science and story, beauty and danger, the present and the past. They invite us to wonder, to tell tales, and to consider how landscape shapes lore — and how lore shapes the way we treat a place.
" was actually a contemporary way to describe deep, paralyzing . The film follows Agnes, a young woman who feels increasingly trapped by the severe religious and social expectations of her time. Why you should watch: the devils bath
The film is set in 1750 in a deeply religious, superstitious rural village in Upper Austria. It follows Agnes, played in a breathtaking debut lead performance by Austrian musician Anja Plaschg (known professionally as Soap&Skin), who also composed the film’s hauntingly beautiful score.
The horror here is psychological and deeply disturbing. It touches on themes of religious mania, postpartum depression (or the historical equivalent), and the crushing weight of isolation. The film does an excellent job of placing the viewer in Agnes’s shoes—we feel her desperation, her confusion, and her eventual, terrifying descent into a twisted version of piety. It serves as a grim historical document regarding how society (and the church) failed women who did not fit the mold.
This historical reality was brought to modern light by UC Davis historian Kathy Stuart in her foundational book, Suicide by Proxy in Early Modern Germany: Crime, Sin and Salvation , which served as the structural blueprint for the film. The film meticulously documents the cyclical labor of
: The state would carry out the execution (usually beheading), allowing the individual to die with a clean soul and securing a guaranteed passage to heaven.
: The story follows Agnes (Anja Plaschg), a sensitive young woman who marries a farmer named Wolf (David Scheid). Despite her hopes for a happy life and motherhood, she finds herself trapped in a cold, loveless marriage and a demanding life of grueling labor.
In recent years, The Devil's Bath has become a popular tourist destination, attracting nature lovers, photographers, and those drawn to its mystical allure. To protect the lake's delicate ecosystem and preserve its natural beauty, local authorities have implemented conservation measures, including restricted access and strict guidelines for visitors. Molds bloom on walls; meat rots in the pantry
Critics describe it as an "unblinking portrait of inhumanity and festered faith".
Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala return with a suffocating period piece about depression, patriarchy, and 18th-century "mercy killings."