‘Murderess’ Review: Ocassionally Intriguing Depiction of Greek Midwife’s Mental Spiral Fails to Cohere

by

Under the title “Murderess,” it’s no wonder Greece’s entry for the Oscar international feature category leans towards a grim narrative. This film is the third adaptation of Alexandros Papadiamantis’ renowned novella, delving into the gradual psychological decay of an elderly midwife as she navigates through a deteriorating patriarchal society. Directors Eva Nathena and screenwriter Katerina Bei aim to portray their protagonist’s mental state, but this intent often gets blurred in their attempt to interweave stark reality with intense flashbacks and fantastical elements.

The film “Murderess” starts off with a group of girls dancing together and singing a wish that they were surrounded by boys instead. This scene is followed by a quote from Greek poet Odysseas Elytis, emphasizing the impact of the past on the present. The main character, Hadoula (played by Karyofyllia Karabeti), is then introduced as she frequently appears in the movie: striding purposefully across rugged landscapes to assist a woman giving birth. Unfortunately for everyone present, the baby born is another girl, adding to what seems like an endless string of female births on the Greek island of Skiathos.

Despite being set in the early 20th century, “Murderess” appears to portray a timeframe that feels much older. The film’s boys are valued more highly than is common, and women frequently try various herbs and treatments suggested by Hadoula in an attempt to give birth to a son. Regrettably, these attempts bear no fruit, and the tension built from anticipation and subsequent disappointment shapes most of the character interactions.

Hadoula is the mother of five children: three daughters and two sons. Her sons live elsewhere and do not return, whereas her daughters remain at home to help her. The eldest daughter, in particular, lives unmarried. Beyond managing a demanding daily life filled with disappointments, Hadoula also grapples with a recurring vision of her late mother, Maria Protoppapa.

Initially appearing as a silent observer who seems to bore into Hadoula while she shares distressing news with a patient, her mother recurs frequently in the narrative. This foreboding ancestor makes appearances both in the present, taking form as a hissing, mocking reminder of Hadoula’s failure to uplift her fellow village women, and in flashbacks where young Hadoula (played by Georgianna Dalara) is mercilessly tutored to carry on her mother’s profession as the town midwife. Over time, these instances become more pronounced until Hadoula reaches a tipping point, leading to a series of events that grow increasingly unlikely.

In the predictable title, one might guess where Hadoula’s thoughts ultimately lead, but the journey is made less engaging due to Nathena’s formulaic storytelling style. Frequently, she immerses herself in dreams or memories only to abruptly come back to reality, creating stark divisions that seem out of place in a movie centered around its protagonist’s hallucinations. The world around Hadoula is often oversimplified, presenting archetypal characters such as an abusive spouse, a blind priest, and a drunken son-in-law. This simplification, in turn, makes the challenges that Hadoula encounters appear less complex.

“The character of ‘Murderess’ effectively utilizes two primary elements:

First, Karabeti delivers a compelling performance, masterfully portraying her character’s physical and emotional metamorphosis. Initially appearing weathered yet strong, she brings authenticity to the dramatic shifts between self-questioning and unwavering conviction.

Second, Skiathos itself contributes significantly to the film’s atmosphere, with its stone-built villages perched on a ridge shrouded in fog, adding an inherent sense of enigma that helps maintain the movie’s mood.

In “Murderess,” the film’s intentional seclusion doesn’t stop the similarities with various societies across different eras from becoming evident well before the end. After the last scenes, a brief explanatory text (chiron) is displayed, linking a particular plot point to a past and ongoing crisis. This abrupt change of scope feels awkward at best, particularly when the situation depicted in the film is presented in such stark, broad terms following its more nuanced portrayal. Despite “Murderess” having some striking moments, its rigid storytelling approach ultimately proves to be its downfall.

Read More

2025-01-18 09:46