In the darkness of an improvised interrogation room, a very young woman with bloody eye sockets behind the blindfold that hides them faces four obviously terrified men. Her name is Mary and, if we are to believe the title of the film, The Last Thing Mary Saw, what she saw before she was so blinded must be terrible. Suspected, among other things, of witchcraft, Mary recalls the events that brought her before these bigots who were as curious as they were frightened by what she would confess to them.
Camped in 1843 in Suffolk County, New York, The Last Thing Mary Saw, unveiled last summer at Fantasia, is the first film full of macabre promises by Edoardo Vitaletti. Against a background of puritanism, we discover the forbidden love between Mary (Stefanie Scott), a girl from a good family, and Eleanor (Isabelle Fuhrman), the servant of the household. Witnessing the “abominable” acts taking place in their pious home, Mary’s devastated parents (Carolyn McCormick and Michael Laurence) consult the grandmother (Judith Roberts), who (obviously) suggests cruel corporal punishment.
Armed with a mysterious black notebook (which unfortunately will remain a little too mysterious), Mary does not intend to let things go. From then on, things will go from bad to worse for his loved ones, including a death that will undermine the ambient psychological balance, already experienced. To this will be added the visit of an enigmatic stranger (who will unfortunately remain a little too enigmatic).
Yes, sometimes we think of the superior The Vitch (The witch), by Robert Eggers, set 200 years earlier, but The Last Thing Mary Saw displays a distinct identity, not least through its exploration of the uninhibited—and therefore perceived as threatening—sexuality of Mary and Eleanor at a time of narrow religious and moral dictates.
Scary atmosphere
In the end, Edoardo Vitaletti offers a story that is more sinister than frightening. This is not a defect in this case, as long as we know what to expect. The substance turns out, however, to be less complete than the form. Aside from the mentioned notebook and stranger, whose narrative impact remains unclear at best, the both undeniable and indecisive presence of the supernatural frustrates more than it intrigues.
On the other hand, the film has a spare but precise historical reconstruction, and benefits from admirable cinematography. During the day, the pale winter light gives a feeling of cold inevitability to the action. At night, candlelight creates shadows with rich horrific potential and chiaroscuros that reveal as much as they conceal.
Aware of its effects, which it saves moreover, Edoardo Vitaletti’s staging patiently forges an atmosphere of anguish and suspicion. Interpreters in tune, by Stefanie Scott, seen in Insidious: Chapter 3 (Insidious: Chapter 3), to Isabelle Fuhrman, seen in Orphan (the orphan), passing, above all, by Judith Roberts, discovered in Eraserhead then rediscovered in Dead Silence (dead silence), feed this anxiety-provoking climate.
Between suggested terror, study of manners and slow-burning suspense, the film thus insinuates itself slyly into the unconscious and becomes embedded there for a long time. This in itself is a beautiful and disastrous accomplishment.