The CountessThose familiar with history may remember the story of Countess Elizabeth/Erzsébet Báthory de Ecsed, a noble woman in 16th century Hungary, whose rule was overshadowed by her legacy as history's most prolific female murderer. Those familiar with myth and gothic horror may remember Báthory as the prototypical figure in vampire stories, a woman whose black legend included such diabolical claims as bathing in the blood of virgin girls, practicing witchcraft, and copulating with the devil. The Countess portrays Erzsébet Báthory (Julie Delpy) without the supernatural, but with a witch's brew of romance, drama, and horror, all stirred in the cauldron of apocryphal history.
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The Countess is the story of a woman who is powerful in a time when powerful women were not only an exception, but perceived as a threat by the patriarchy of Europe. And while The Countess is a story with feminist overtones, this does not dominate the film, nor is Erzsébet Báthory portrayed simply as a woman persecuted under an oppressive male conspiracy (although the story proposes this is also a part of her legend). Rather than simply approach Erzsébet Báthory from a true/false perspective of her involvement in the atrocities which are inexorably a part of her reputation, The Countess engages the subject on both fronts, even simultaneously. Erzsébet Báthory is portrayed not as a caricature or stereotype of a bloodsucking vamp, but as a woman with a multitude of sides, a multifaceted blood diamond. She is a loving mother, a skilled diplomat, a financial genius, a seductive lover. She is also an elitist snob, a vain shrew, a selfish witch, and, of course, a depraved murderess, all rolled into one. To my memory, The Countess stands apart from "vampire movies"--strictly speaking, the film never portrays Báthory as a vampire in the traditional sense--because so many other portrayals of female vampires are an excuse to exploit attractive women in varying states of seductiveness and undress; that said, certainly, Julie Delpy is sexy. Although her Báthory's appearance and fleeting youth is the motive for her inevitable slide into depravity, it is not the real focus of the film; that is the countess' inability to balance her heart and her mind, a result of her perceived betrayal by her young lover, István Thurzó (Daniel Brühl), who also narrates the film. The story of The Countess is one which is recalled by István as he visits her humble grave in the foothills outside her former residence at Čachtice Castle, the site of her atrocities and her eventual death. István begins his narration with a truism: "history is written by the victors", and the implications of this become evident as the film progresses, as does the definition of a "victor". For the purposes of The Countess, the eventual victors are men, those who have conspired to portray Báthory as a villain, and cement their power base upon the tales of her unholy acts. Interestingly, although István narrates--suggesting that the story to follow would come from his point of view, we spend a remarkably small amount of time with him, not much more than he spends with Erzsébet. But as he indicates, the story is only partly based on his encounters with her, but largely constructed from the stories recounted to him by his father, György Thurzó (William Hurt), whom the story also implicates as the mastermind behind Báthory's downfall. So as this is a story "written by the victors", whom can we trust to give us objective truth about what really happened? In short, the truth is sealed away behind a brick wall, just as it was for Erzsébet Báthory in the end.
What makes The Countess such an incredible film is how much of it was the result of the efforts of Julie Delpy, who not only stars in the movie, but who wrote, directed, co-produced, and even composed the music for it. Julie Delpy's own significant involvement in the piece suggests that this was more than a creator who was determined to be intrinsically involved in the film's inception, but is a labor of love, also paralleling Erzsébet Báthory by presenting herself as a significant force to be reckoned with in filmmaking. Whenever a film is made where the star is also the writer and/or director, there runs the risk of self-glorification, being so firmly rooted in the spotlight. Delpy cleverly uses this to her advantage by presenting a character study about a woman who is conscious not only of her entrenchment in her world but of her own image. Erzsébet Báthory is regarded as a threat by the Hungarian monarchy because of the great debt owed to her family; that threat is multiplied by the humiliation King Matthias (Jesse Inman) experiences, due to her being a woman. Báthory represents a kind of "proto-feminist", observing hypocrisies in the Catholic Church and gender inequality, but who also feels a very real, deep love after her brief affair with István, a pain which is never subdued, even when she is solicited by Dominic Vizakna (Sebastian Blomberg), whose pronounced eyebrows, slight manner, and pallor make him appear as the quintessential Transylvanian vampire--I often found myself thinking his name was actually "Vlad". But rather than presenting her Báthory as simply a martyred woman and heroine of the tale, Delpy gives us a portrayal of a woman who goes completely mad following her heartbreak, becoming the monster who would birth countless horror stories as a result of her delusional idea that the blood of virgin girls would make her young and thus bring her the love of István. In this, The Countess avoids the simple trappings of most horror stories, concerned with defining heroes and villains; Báthory is both and neither, and is remembered--according to The Countess--in a manner keeping with upholding the status quo, the blood in the mortar.
Recommended for: Fans of a historical fiction drama about one of the most infamous figures in history, a profane killer, a powerful ruler, and also a woman. Perspective may vary by gender, but the dedicated efforts on the part of Julie Delpy to present a tale which entertains and provokes questions are engaging.
What makes The Countess such an incredible film is how much of it was the result of the efforts of Julie Delpy, who not only stars in the movie, but who wrote, directed, co-produced, and even composed the music for it. Julie Delpy's own significant involvement in the piece suggests that this was more than a creator who was determined to be intrinsically involved in the film's inception, but is a labor of love, also paralleling Erzsébet Báthory by presenting herself as a significant force to be reckoned with in filmmaking. Whenever a film is made where the star is also the writer and/or director, there runs the risk of self-glorification, being so firmly rooted in the spotlight. Delpy cleverly uses this to her advantage by presenting a character study about a woman who is conscious not only of her entrenchment in her world but of her own image. Erzsébet Báthory is regarded as a threat by the Hungarian monarchy because of the great debt owed to her family; that threat is multiplied by the humiliation King Matthias (Jesse Inman) experiences, due to her being a woman. Báthory represents a kind of "proto-feminist", observing hypocrisies in the Catholic Church and gender inequality, but who also feels a very real, deep love after her brief affair with István, a pain which is never subdued, even when she is solicited by Dominic Vizakna (Sebastian Blomberg), whose pronounced eyebrows, slight manner, and pallor make him appear as the quintessential Transylvanian vampire--I often found myself thinking his name was actually "Vlad". But rather than presenting her Báthory as simply a martyred woman and heroine of the tale, Delpy gives us a portrayal of a woman who goes completely mad following her heartbreak, becoming the monster who would birth countless horror stories as a result of her delusional idea that the blood of virgin girls would make her young and thus bring her the love of István. In this, The Countess avoids the simple trappings of most horror stories, concerned with defining heroes and villains; Báthory is both and neither, and is remembered--according to The Countess--in a manner keeping with upholding the status quo, the blood in the mortar.
Recommended for: Fans of a historical fiction drama about one of the most infamous figures in history, a profane killer, a powerful ruler, and also a woman. Perspective may vary by gender, but the dedicated efforts on the part of Julie Delpy to present a tale which entertains and provokes questions are engaging.