Every so often, a film struts into the horror canon wearing a feather boa and a cloud of cigarette smoke, demanding to be called “art.” Daughters of Darkness is one of those films—and like an aging lounge singer trying to belt out Shirley Bassey after three martinis too many, it thinks it’s glamorous when it’s mostly just embarrassing.
The Plot: Honeymoon in Hell, But Make It Boring
We meet Stefan, a twit of a rich boy with mommy issues so severe his “mother” turns out to be a middle-aged effeminate man who scolds him like he forgot to clean his room. He drags his new bride Valerie to a Belgian hotel so empty it feels like the set of a bad Twilight Zone knockoff. Enter Countess Elizabeth Báthory (Delphine Seyrig), styled like Marlene Dietrich’s spooky cousin, and her companion Ilona, who sulks like a vampire intern on her first night shift.
From there, the movie pretends it’s about seduction, power, and bloodlust, but mostly it’s people whispering vaguely erotic nonsense in echoey hotel lobbies while the audience checks their watch. Yes, there are child murders in Bruges. Yes, Stefan beats and rapes Valerie. Yes, Ilona dies in the world’s most unsexy bathroom accident involving a razor and bad blocking. But the pacing is so glacial you could defrost chicken on it.
Performances: Chewing Scenery, Then Spitting It Out
Delphine Seyrig glides through the film like a haute couture vampire mannequin, and critics fell all over themselves to call it “iconic.” In truth, she looks like she’s just remembered she left the oven on and can’t quite commit to the role. John Karlen plays Stefan as a bratty sadist with all the menace of a frat boy who flunked out of drama school. Danielle Ouimet as Valerie spends the entire film vacillating between “abused wife” and “bewildered deer,” and Andrea Rau as Ilona looks perpetually hungover.
If this is erotic horror, then I’m a Gregorian monk. It’s less about seduction and more about people mumbling monologues in bad lighting until someone finally dies.
Style Over Substance (and the Style’s Not That Great Either)
Harry Kümel’s direction is self-consciously “artsy.” Endless shots of empty corridors, mirrors, and curtains blowing in the wind scream meaningful metaphor when really it’s just padding out the runtime. The movie wants to be surreal and decadent, but it’s about as decadent as eating stale croissants in a Motel 6 lobby.
Yes, the lesbian undertones and commentary on gender dynamics are there, but they’re drowned in a soup of pretentious dialogue and molasses pacing. By the time Valerie inherits Elizabeth’s voice at the end, you’re just relieved the car crash wrapped things up before the movie found another 40 minutes to drag out.
Final Verdict
Daughters of Darkness is like being cornered at a party by someone who insists on telling you their dreams in excruciating detail while smoking clove cigarettes. Sure, it’s got atmosphere, but atmosphere without momentum is just fog.
⭐ Rating: 2 out of 5 velvet capes. Stylish, yes—but it’s the kind of style that makes you want to grab a sick bag, not out of horror, but because you’re suffocating in the perfume of its own pretensions.
