Rent Mark of the Devil (1969)

Disturbing viewing - spoilers follow. - Mark of the Devil review by NP

Reggie Nalder plays emaciated local witch-finder Albino, a scurrilous dog who hides behind his position to torture and kill women who spurn his advances. A young, bright eyed Udo Kier is Count Christian, and Olivera Katarina plays veracious Vanessa Benedikt, whose exuberance and sexuality means she is ideal for Albino’s perversions. And Herbert Lom, who is rarely less than majestic, plays Lord Cumberland, who has the weight of dispassionate authority to put into practice the atrocities afforded a man in his position.

Of course, this cruel and extravagantly mounted film unashamedly owes a huge amount to 1968’s ‘The Witchfinder General,’ in which Vincent Price excels in the nastiness of titular Matthew Hopkins (‘Mark of the Devil’ actually eclipsed ‘Witchfinder’ at the box office). ‘Devil’ steps up the graphic cruelty considerably, producing scenes that make you wince. (To quote from Wikipedia, this film was seized and confiscated in the UK under Section 3 of the Obscene Publications Act 1959 during the video nasty panic.) Also, torture and rape are treated so nonchalantly by the characters and directed so matter-of-factly by directors and writers Michael Armstrong and Adrian Hoven (whose intense dislike for each other caused problems wile filming), that when the medieval-style iron torture devices and rattling chains are wheeled out once more, there is a certain inevitability that you will be repulsed. Later, as the same empty-headed soldiers storm a children’s puppet show, you know you are in for some disturbing viewing.

When it begins to dawn on Christian that perhaps the law and the execution of it might just be a little corrupt, you can’t help but feel he has been a little naïve thus far. Watching people being unspeakably cruel to each other for 86 minutes is saved from becoming tedious by the gradual way the acts are stepped up over that time. No men of authority are immune from corruption, and this tale reminds us in its opening moments that any enactments of evil are as nothing compared to what actually happened. A word too for Michael Holm’s rousing and elegant music that is so powerful, it is almost a supporting character in its own right.

Relentless and powerfully unpleasant, this is brilliantly done, but I’m not sure I’ll be watching it twice. It’s reassuring to know that society has progressed beyond such hypocritical barbarism … isn’t it?