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Don't Look Now was clearly ahead of its time. In 1973, psychological movies such as this were either rare, or basic. Don't Look Now attempts to go where a lot of movies had never been, which was a realm where many things never truly make sense and yet behind it all is a coherent purpose.

First of it is *not* a candidate for greatest horror film ever, though the Times would have you believe otherwise. What it *is* though is a highly confusing yet thought-provoking story which covers grief and dillusion in equal measure.

Donald Sutherland plays John Baxter, who's married to Laura, who lose a child in an accident and find their worlds turned upside-down as a result. However, thereafter the story is set in Venice where John's working on a job and Laura's accompanied him there, and where things start to get disturbing for the couple as events begin to focus on their dead daughter and paranormal themes emerge.

It *is* a strange tale, and ultimately what you get out of it is entirely up to you. It is probably from this film that the likes of David Lynch started to derive inspiration.

Overall, good, if intrinsically confusing.

There are two types of horror films, really. There are popcorn horror films, good for a cheap in-the-moment thrill at best, and there are serious horror films, movies that linger in the mind and in the bones. I have just watched Nicolas Roeg's 'Don't Look Now' and my spine is frozen. It's 4am, I'm alone, and I have a heightened awareness of sounds and sights I usually don't notice.

Here is a movie that's both resolved and unresolved, ultimately growing more ambiguous as it progresses and becomes more complex. After it is over and has become a complete(d) work to the eye of the viewer, the lasting impression is that of mystery. Too many films in this genre bark up the wrong tree, working to explain all of the events that unfold. By explaining nothing, by being almost abstract, questions and images will haunt the viewer indefinitely. It is what it is, and while this movie can be watched over and over, and the events that occur can be anticipated, they will forever remain an enigma. This is true cinema, purely visual and aural, without the helpful but ultimately self-defeating aid of a proxy observer; the viewer is the direct observer, and there's no filter through which the events and images develop any sort of tidy rationality.

Donald Sutherland's performance here is sober, adult, the grief of his character palpable. And in the face of this grief is a force that runs through the movie like a dark current, evoking the eternal and spookily ethereal and subterranean; less an eternity of the heavens than the eternity of a crypt. Venice is not merely the ideal location for this story, but the necessary location; it could not take place anywhere else. The unquestionable, and indeed imposing, Gothic majesty of the churches, whose interior height dwarfs their human occupants with the spiritual dread of the ancient, overlooks the canals of Venice like the wicked-faced stone gargoyles Sutherland finds himself physically embracing, while the canals that run through the city are literally the ghost of this couple's personal tragedy. Living in Venice, in light of the details surrounding their loss, seems almost a perverse choice, perhaps a masochistic one; they could be punishing themselves for their daughter's drowning by living in a flooded city.

It's not that Sutherland's character is a rational man in an irrational environment, but rather a rational man in an environment whose own secret code, which one may trust makes perfect sense to itself (like a tree in the forest that will only fall if no one is around to hear), is inaccessible and inexplicable to him, baring itself only in fragments in a way he chooses to ignore, just as you might ignore a spectral voice in the dead of night, dismissing it as a product of your imagination.

The movie's notorious love scene is jarringly explicit, yet rather than erotic, it is profoundly sad, and takes on a deeper (even creepy) resonance after the film ends. That the scene is intercut with scenes of Sutherland and Julie Christie dressing prevents the two from ever being completely naked and united; this editing choice changes the dimensions of the love scene in a way that I've never seen attempted elsewhere. At other points, Roeg inserts moments and images that carry sinister implications, none of which are ever concretely substantiated and only leave the viewer with more questions.

The film drifts along at a wandering pace. The final twenty minutes are among the most atmospheric and suspenseful twenty minutes in any film, culminating in a montage that is absolutely chilling.

'The Blair Witch Project,' made over two decades later and probably influenced by this, has similar aspirations, but finally has only a fraction of the emotional gravity.

"Don't Look Now" was released at about the time of "The Excorcist". There is otherwise no basis for comparison between these movies. While the Excorcist hits us in the face with the equivalent of a special effects rubber chicken, "Don't Look Now" manages to get under your skin from the very first scene, and gradually, elegantly insinuates itself into a place where your childhood and adult fears dwell and steep. Its setting in Venice is both beautiful and menacing. Something terrible is always just around the corner from our conscious mind. It is also troubling, and, as only a good movie can, leaves more questions unanswered than resolved. Without a doubt, it contains one of the most beautiful loves scenes ever filmed, showing scenes of Christie and Sutherland in genuinely erotic (by '70's standards) lovemaking, mixed with scenes of the couple as they dress and prepare for their day, the following morning. Director Nicolas Roeg is a forgotten Master.

Laura Baxter (Julie Christie) and John Baxter (Donald Sutherland) suffer a tragedy when their daughter drowns. Later, the couple is in Venice where John is restoring a church. They encounter elderly sisters, Heather and Wendy. Heather is a blind psychic and sees their dead daughter.

This is a slow burn. It's an artsy gothic horror. There are two great actors here. John is flailing around. I notice it from his near accident at the church. He's contorting himself out of shape to grab the rope. The movie feels like it's contorting itself out of shape. It's uncomfortably eerie. The movie, Venice itself, and the characters are all oddly unreal. There is an uncontrolled feel to their actions. It's a slow descend into a kind of madness.

Don't Look Now is based on a Daphne Du Maurier story. She also wrote Rebecca. The movie version was directed by Alfred Hitchcock and won the Best Picture Oscar.

Don't Look Now is often held as an example of how a movie adaptation can be refreshingly different from the source material.

Director Nicolas Roeg was not a traditional director preferring to push the envelope. The movie is known making Venice look Gothic and menacing. As well as the tender lovemaking scene between Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland. It was regarded as rather graphic for the time.

Laura Baxter (Christie) and John Baxter (Donald Sutherland) are devastated when their daughter Christine accidentally drowns in a pond outside their home. She was wearing a shiny plastic red raincoat at the time.

John had some kind of second sight that she was in danger but was too late to save her.

Some time later, with their other son in Boarding school. Laura and John are in Venice. He is involved in a project to restore a church.

Laura has a chance encounter with two sisters, Heather and Wendy. Heather is blind but has psychic abilities. One of them is that Christine is communicating with her and that John might be in danger is they stay in Venice.

John dismisses the sisters but this is a Venice where a serial killer is on the loose. John is also having visions of someone in a red cape.

What begins as a film about family loss and grieving. It slowly but suddenly morphs into a psychic supernatural thriller that leans into horror.

You sense that John might be going mad as he has visions of Laura when he knows she has left Venice for England. He also dismisses his own supernatural abilities, his own sense that bad luck seems to follow him.

There is a subplot that Roeg introduces where John along with others could be the suspected killer. The ending is creepy and both horrific.

Apparently Du Maurier liked the adaptation of this story. Roeg introduces a lot of symbolism in the film. Hence why when the figure in the red cape turns around it is startling.

As a footnote when Joel Schumacher made Flatliners. The Kiefer Sutherland character had visions of a figure in red.