On the one hand it's hard to imagine that it's what filmmaker Brunello Rondi intended, or any of his collaborators, which would mean merely that the film comes off very differently sixty years later; on the other hand, the narrative thrust seems so clear to me that it's hard to imagine Rondi could have intended anything else. 'Il demonio' spends the preponderance of its runtime coming off like thinly-veiled ethnography, illustrating that the differences between folk beliefs, black magic, regional religious practices, and established dogma are scant and minor; if not for labels and popularity there would be no meaningful distinction. There's also the fact that while Puri can hardly be said to be in the right, everyone else around her is so harsh and cruel, even if only in how they browbeat and ostracize her, that she is nevertheless the most sympathetic character in the film. With this in mind every action of the villagers, and even Puri's own family, comes across in turn as scapegoating, as religious persecution, as deeply regressive superstition, and as mob rule more than as any actual combat against evil forces, let alone an effort to help someone who is possessed. With this in mind the apparent possession of the young woman, and especially the attempted exorcism, come across not as an earnest supernatural event but as delusion and madness brought about by the constant assaults from all sides. Puri's greatest crime isn't covetous lust, or the supposed hexing of Antonio, but simply the fact of not marching lockstep with the other villagers, and maybe even more than that, of simply being that person that everyone has rather arbitrarily decided is a pariah. Under those circumstances, what reasonable person wouldn't react violently to further targeted invocation of religion? 'Il demonio' is a horror film, most surely, yet the horror arises from how Puri is treated rather than from anything she does, or any affliction she suffers.
Whatever else one might say about the feature, there's no disputing how superbly it was made. Carlo Bellero's cinematography is astoundingly crisp and vivid, a standard-bearer for the early 60s, and through his eye every detail is made all so vibrant. Even the use of lighting and shadows here is extraordinary, almost making this a must-see in and of itself. The filming locations are utterly gorgeous, and the art direction is splendid. Those stunts and effects that are employed look fantastic; the costume design, hair, and makeup are lovely. Utilized rather sparingly, Piero Piccioni's nevertheless reliably adds flavor to any given scene where it raises its head, and Rondi's direction is magnificently smart in shaping every moment to maximize the intended effect. Rondi maintains a very flat, low-key tone, letting the course of events speak entirely for itself, and the spikes of emotion and energy that come with each beat are all the more momentous in contrast. Above all, the cast give exceptional performances that capitalize on the simmering tension, hate, and otherwise heightened feelings. That praise extends even to those in the smallest supporting parts, but it's safe to say that Daliah Lavi stands out most as Puri with a highly dynamic, varied display of acting that is undeniably the centerpiece of 'Il demonio.' Strictly speaking the narrative may be up for interpretation, but there's no arguing against the excellence that all contributed both in front of and behind the camera, and Lavi is very deservedly the focal point of all good will here.
The story is nasty and brutish, a cavalcade of all the worst abuses that can be inflicted on a person by those would proclaim themselves to be virtuous and godly. In that, there is stark, horrid relevance in this 1963 movie to the world of 2023 as persecution and violence against marginalized groups grows ever more extreme. I can understand how not everyone may look at Rondi's work and see the same thing I do, but even without drawing parallels the through-line of the tale here seems readily apparent to me, for the ills inflicted upon Puri are wildly disproportionate to anything she has done, or believes she has done, or is believed to have done. One might say that I'm applying twenty-first century values to the beliefs and norms of another time, but supposing that's true, someone needs to inform the twenty-first century equivalents of the villagers here that they are creatures out of time. All this is to say that 'Il demonio' is raptly absorbing and compelling from the very start. At no time is it specifically thrilling, or chilling, and it carries itself with the airs of an ordinary contemporary drama (as a contemporary example, consider Vittorio De Sica's 'La ciociara'). With that dry tenor, however, the power of the storytelling resonates even more on its own, and the proceedings are grim and horrifying in an underhanded manner, with more lasting impact, that few more conventional horror flicks can claim. For various reasons it won't appeal to all, but there's much more to digest here than a mere horror-thriller or monster flick, and for those who are willing and able to engage with such thoughtfully rendered, nuanced fare, the viewing experience is immensely satisfying. Think well on what type of films you enjoy before sitting to watch, but otherwise, 'Il demonio' is a brilliant slice of cinema that deserves far more viewership and recognition.
Whatever else one might say about the feature, there's no disputing how superbly it was made. Carlo Bellero's cinematography is astoundingly crisp and vivid, a standard-bearer for the early 60s, and through his eye every detail is made all so vibrant. Even the use of lighting and shadows here is extraordinary, almost making this a must-see in and of itself. The filming locations are utterly gorgeous, and the art direction is splendid. Those stunts and effects that are employed look fantastic; the costume design, hair, and makeup are lovely. Utilized rather sparingly, Piero Piccioni's nevertheless reliably adds flavor to any given scene where it raises its head, and Rondi's direction is magnificently smart in shaping every moment to maximize the intended effect. Rondi maintains a very flat, low-key tone, letting the course of events speak entirely for itself, and the spikes of emotion and energy that come with each beat are all the more momentous in contrast. Above all, the cast give exceptional performances that capitalize on the simmering tension, hate, and otherwise heightened feelings. That praise extends even to those in the smallest supporting parts, but it's safe to say that Daliah Lavi stands out most as Puri with a highly dynamic, varied display of acting that is undeniably the centerpiece of 'Il demonio.' Strictly speaking the narrative may be up for interpretation, but there's no arguing against the excellence that all contributed both in front of and behind the camera, and Lavi is very deservedly the focal point of all good will here.
The story is nasty and brutish, a cavalcade of all the worst abuses that can be inflicted on a person by those would proclaim themselves to be virtuous and godly. In that, there is stark, horrid relevance in this 1963 movie to the world of 2023 as persecution and violence against marginalized groups grows ever more extreme. I can understand how not everyone may look at Rondi's work and see the same thing I do, but even without drawing parallels the through-line of the tale here seems readily apparent to me, for the ills inflicted upon Puri are wildly disproportionate to anything she has done, or believes she has done, or is believed to have done. One might say that I'm applying twenty-first century values to the beliefs and norms of another time, but supposing that's true, someone needs to inform the twenty-first century equivalents of the villagers here that they are creatures out of time. All this is to say that 'Il demonio' is raptly absorbing and compelling from the very start. At no time is it specifically thrilling, or chilling, and it carries itself with the airs of an ordinary contemporary drama (as a contemporary example, consider Vittorio De Sica's 'La ciociara'). With that dry tenor, however, the power of the storytelling resonates even more on its own, and the proceedings are grim and horrifying in an underhanded manner, with more lasting impact, that few more conventional horror flicks can claim. For various reasons it won't appeal to all, but there's much more to digest here than a mere horror-thriller or monster flick, and for those who are willing and able to engage with such thoughtfully rendered, nuanced fare, the viewing experience is immensely satisfying. Think well on what type of films you enjoy before sitting to watch, but otherwise, 'Il demonio' is a brilliant slice of cinema that deserves far more viewership and recognition.