Morgiana

"The draught will kill me one day", Viktoria (Janzurová) fussily complains about the opening window, her words will actually come true, through a tenuously linked poetic justice, it is a symbol of Morgiana's revenge.

The story of this Czechoslovakian drama is rather minimal, set in an unspecified period time, Viktoria is plotting to murder her twin sister Klara (also played by Janzurová, but distinct with a light-colored hairdo and dress-code from Viktoria's black widow outfit, yet equally ornamented by the over-saturated make-up) through slow poisoning, since the latter inherits most of their father's property. Then, who is Morgiana? It is Viktoria's pet black cat, and one of the tricks of this garish sibling-rivalry tale is the fish-eyed angle from Morgiana's viewpoint, a nifty bit of sleight-of-hand, will become a key takeaway from the film, apart from its Klimt-esque opening credits and striking Gothic grandeur, however, the same admiration cannot be referred to the lurid hallucination shots.

Morgiana is a loyal witness of its mistress' evil plan, but unwittingly its own life happen to be the victim of its collateral damage. The said window is Morgiana's entrance into the room, and due to the maid's casual gesture, it is opened at that particular moment, through the ripple effect, the draught and the bang of the door, it counteracts Viktoria's carefully calculated pseudo- suicidal bluff. Apart from this well-conceived comeuppance, the plot is amateur at its core, namely, the jejune involvement of a blackmailer is a major distraction from the central suspense, whether Klara will die or not.

It is not just wealth prompts Viktoria's motivation, the suppressed sexual desire is the culprit here, Klara is a sweetheart, a perfect specimen of a desirable maiden, inadvertently wins over everyone's heart including those Viktoria feels attracted to. Director Juraj Herz expressly accentuates Viktoria's jealousy and dyed-in-the-wool conservative reckoning towards sex and sensuality, with a terrific score fittingly hones up the menacing but otherworldly ambiance.

Performances are fairly attenuated to be functional with a theatrical stiffness, save Janzurová, who benefits greatly from playing both twins, gives an exceptionally expressive split image divided by polarised personalities, also credits must be given to her cosmetic and costume props.

After all, Herz manifestly leaves his eccentric directorial marks in this film (particularly impressive is the shots where both twins appear in the same frame), MORGIANA is an inviting piece of curio bodes well for further digging into his body of work.

Morgiana is a mesmerizing gothic tale teetering on the edge of reality and psychosis. Its visual language is striking: Art Nouveau, symbolism, theatrical costumes and makeup craft an aesthetically rich atmosphere. The cinematography-with mirrors, shadows, distorted perspectives, and fluid camera movements-creates a haunting phantasmagoria. The same actress playing both sisters is a powerful device that heightens the psychological tension. Though based on a story by Alexander Grin, director Juraj Herz reimagines it with gothic flair and psychological depth. Beneath the stylization lies a raw emotional core of jealousy, envy, and moral decay.

When their wealthy father dies, his daughters Viktoria and Klára (Iva Janzurová) inherit his fortune. The evil Viktoria inherits a small castle and all the possession inside including jewelry but the naive Klára inherits most of his assets. Viktoria plots with the gypsy fortuneteller Otylie (Nina Divísková) to poison her sister with an undetectable liquid to inherit her fortune. Klára feels sick and her doctor cannot diagnosis her, while Viktoria uses the poison in the milk of her dog. Meanwhile, Klára falls in love with Lieutenant Marek (Josef Abrhám). When Otylie blackmails Viktoria, she throws Otylie off the cliffs in the sea. Soon Klára receives a letter telling that she was poisoned and asking for money to give the antidote to her. Who wrote the letter?

"Morgiana" is a stylish Czechoslovakian movie from the 70's, with a great story of ambition and evilness. The first point to highlight is certainly the magnificent performance of Iva Janzurová in a double-role that certainly deserved an Oscar. The cinematography, camera work, lightning and costumes are also amazing. The story, the unexpected plot point and the screenplay are also fantastic. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Morgiana"

This is my favorite film. possibly the most melodramatic films i've seen, the costumes and make up are so over the top that you can barely tell that the two main characters are played by the same actor. The film has so much color in it with all the costumes and gardens but this dark fairytale could almost be considered a film noir. The soundtrack might be it;s only downfall, the music itself is so beautiful and powerful but it plays too big a part in creating an atmosphere, some scenes are downgraded by the overwhelming score. My favorite scene is in the brothel, i've never seen such amazing looking prostitutes! they make me want to buy a caravan and take up witchcraft.

as a matter of interest; In the book the two sisters are one character with a multiple personality. Unfortunately Herz was unable to make such a controversial film, so, to stay as close to the original story as possible the two sisters are played by the same woman. This book by Alexander Grin (who starved under Stalin) has not been translated into English as far as i know.

Juraj Herz's 1971 Morgiana is less Carroll-gone-softcore than Edward Gorey as filmed by Ken Russell-a sardonic chunk of Victorian penny-dreadful melodrama tweaked to new levels of aesthetic and emotional hysteria. Jealous of her vapidly "good" sister's popularity, poisonous Viktoria doses pretty Klara's tea with a slow-acting fatal substance. As the latter grows hysterically weak, the former finds success increasingly compromised by guilt, blackmail, and the pesky need to kill others lest she be exposed. The women here are painted as elaborately as psychedelic-drag-queen Cockettes, and the purple extremity of their predicament is drawn in equally bizarre/extravagant terms. It's like a dress-up, younger-generation version of Baby Jane?, set in an ornamental snow globe.