If you skip the plot of the first part of the film and move straight to the second, it briefly looks like this: a group of people captures a girl and tortures her until she reaches a state that leads to her death.
Before her death, the sect members want to extract from the "martyr" some truth that is supposed to save them.
The zealous leader of the group, an elderly woman known as "Mademoiselle," approaches the dying girl to receive the truth "firsthand." Unexpectedly, after this visit, the old woman shoots herself in the head. Thus, instead of advancing toward the revelation of eternal life, the main ideologue dies herself.
The film depicts a struggle—a third-degree game (in transactional analysis terms)—between the victim and the abuser. The characters' interactions resemble the game "Let's You and Him Fight." Both the victim and the abuser fall into two emergency hatches at once: "kill yourself" and "kill the other" (in the first part of the film, there is also a hatch "go insane"). There are no winners. The victim (Anna), as she dies, drags the old psychopath Mademoiselle into the afterlife with her. We don’t know what Anna might have whispered to Mademoiselle that caused her to shoot herself. And it doesn’t even matter what she said. What matters is that the scheme works. The dramatic triangle is notable because the roles within it are constantly shifting. Thanks to this, another switch occurs by the end of the film, and the Victim (Anna) becomes the Abuser (effectively the killer).
The film is emotionally intense, but it brilliantly conveys the architecture of relationships in a dramatic triangle. If you think about it, paradoxical things happen to the victim: the more abuse she endures, the stronger her spirit becomes, until she makes a final leap and destroys her tormentor with sheer willpower. It’s also striking that the more the tormentor enslaves the victim’s body and spirit, the more vulnerable she herself becomes. I should note that the third role in the triangle—the role of the Rescuer—remains unchanged; it serves as a recurring motif in the relationships. Mademoiselle fancies herself a Rescuer while also nurturing the Rescuer within Anna. But the idea of salvation and rescue utterly fails (by the way, why haven’t any Christian movements demanded the film be banned?).
Yes, it seems that the abuser and psychopath are invulnerable due to their total insensitivity. But they are vulnerable in their own desires and beliefs. Mademoiselle prepares herself for a special mission—to bear witness to the revelations of the enlightened martyr Anna. But the reality is that no revelations exist (and cannot exist). All that remains is evil, evil in the guise of a tormentor. Yet Mademoiselle doesn’t realize she is the evil one. She believes in her mission, and this becomes her trap.
The film partly serves as a warning against the allure of "games," partly suggests how one might deal with inevitable evil, and is also about the danger of unhealthy attachment to people and ideas. Everyone will find something personal in it, provided they are strong enough emotionally to dare to watch it.
