Movie Review: Don’t Look Now (1973)
Synopsis
“Don’t Look Now” is a haunting psychological thriller directed by Nicolas Roeg, based on a short story by Daphne du Maurier. The film unfolds in the wake of a tragic accident, following a couple, John (played by Donald Sutherland) and Laura Baxter (played by Julie Christie), who are grappling with the death of their young daughter, Christine. Their grief leads them to Venice, where John is involved in the restoration of a church.
As they settle into their new life, Laura encounters two sisters, one of whom is a blind medium who claims to have communicated with Christine. This revelation propels the couple into a realm where the boundaries between the material and the supernatural blur, eventually leading John to experience eerie visions of his lost daughter. The film’s atmosphere is thick with tension, underscored by Roeg’s masterful direction and innovative editing that plays with time and perception.
London initially foreshadows the tragedy that will infect the rest of the film with its vibrant portrayals of their mundane life, juxtaposed against the supernatural elements soon to fracture their reality. As their journey progresses through the serpentine canals and fog-drenched streets of Venice, the narrative dances between the couple’s despair and the omnipresent threat that seems to weave its way into their lives, culminating in an ending that questions the fabric of belief and the nature of grief.
Cast of Characters
- Donald Sutherland as John Baxter
- Julie Christie as Laura Baxter
- Hilary Mason as Heather (the medium)
- Clelia Matania as the woman in red
- Massimo Sereni as the detective
- John Bown as the priest
Review
“Don’t Look Now” is often hailed as a landmark in psychological horror, and for good reason. Nicolas Roeg crafts a narrative that is as perplexing as it is profound. The film’s exploration of grief and the intersection of personal trauma with uncanny phenomena sets it apart from typical horror fare. The characters of John and Laura are impeccably written; both are portrayed with depth and vulnerability, allowing viewers to connect with their emotional turmoil.
Sutherland’s performance as John is particularly riveting. He embodies a man caught between rationality and the inexplicable, displaying a range of emotions from raw despair to tense alertness. Christie, too, delivers a poignant portrayal of a grieving mother, transitioning from an embodiment of loss to a figure enveloped in an almost desperate hope brought forth by the medium’s words. Their chemistry, balanced yet strained by unresolved grief, lends credence to the supernatural elements that encroach upon their lives.
The cinematography by Roeg himself is another character in the film. With striking visuals and an adept use of colour, it heightens the emotional stakes. The use of red, in particular, is a recurring motif that ties back to the couple’s unhealed wounds. Roeg’s decision to use non-linear storytelling is striking; that the viewer often experiences the same disorientation as John, creates an immersive journey that reflects his mental state.
Furthermore, the film’s treatment of grief is unflinching. Roeg does not shy away from showcasing the all-consuming nature of loss. The Baxters’ experiences illustrate the impact of grief, as every moment is steeped in the presence of the daughter they lost. The film poignantly contrasts John’s logical, scientific worldview against Laura’s emotional susceptibility, leading to an exploration of which perspective ultimately prevails in the confrontation with the unknown.
The supporting cast, albeit sparse, enhances the impact of the central narrative. Hilary Mason as the blind medium delivers a performance that oscillates between eeriness and empathy, embodying the premise of sight beyond sight. The character of the woman in red, whose elusive presence haunts John, serves as a chilling reminder of the attachments we carry, even when they beckon danger.
Venice itself, portrayed in shades of melancholic beauty, becomes an essential backdrop. The labyrinthine canals and shadowy alleyways reflect John’s unraveling mind and Laura’s wavering hope. Roeg captures a sense of claustrophobic inevitability, mirroring the intricacies of their emotional labyrinth. The sound design further contributes to the film’s unsettling nature—subtle whispers and echoes that drape each scene in an atmosphere of dread.
Noteworthy is the film’s ending, which is ambiguous and open to interpretation. The culmination of John’s experiences leads to a moment that has been dissected and debated across decades, providing fertile ground for discussions about the nature of grief, belief, and the fear of the unknown. Roeg leaves viewers unsettled, forcing us to confront our own perceptions of reality and existence.
However, not everyone will appreciate Roeg’s unconventional storytelling. The non-linear narrative may confuse viewers unaccustomed to such techniques, and the deliberate pacing may feel slow to those expecting a traditional thriller. Nonetheless, these stylistic choices are integral to the film’s charm and thematic depth. The intricate weave of time and emotion is central to the viewer’s experience and facilitates a more profound engagement with the film’s explorative themes.
In conclusion, “Don’t Look Now” is a masterpiece of psychological horror that transcends the genre through its intricate exploration of grief and the supernatural. With stunning performances from Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie, along with Roeg’s visionary direction, the film remains a quintessential study of human vulnerability. Its blend of atmospheric tension and psychological depth creates a viewing experience that resonates long after the credits roll.
Score: 9/10
“Don’t Look Now” is not simply a horror film; it is a meditation on loss and the human experience, masterfully crafted and hauntingly beautiful. Those who dare to engage with its complexities will be rewarded with a cinematic journey that challenges perceptions and evokes visceral emotion.
