Murder obsession (Follia omicida) (Murder Obsession)

"For centuries theologians, philosophers and poets have delved into the universe

in search of proof of the existence of the devil.

It would have sufficed to look into the depths of their own souls."

Hieronimus A. Steinback XVII Century

Damn light!

Mike!

Let go of her! Michael, let go of her!

Good. Scene three, shot five.

He nearly killed her.

She had a bad fright.

Drink some of this.

- Feel better now? - Yes.

Thankfully that was the last shot.

Good.

That scene was truly exceptional.

It seemed like you really wanted to kill her.

Hello. Yes, it's me.

Pack a suitcase, we're going.

Don't worry, just get ready. I'll be there in an hour.

Bye.

You say it's an irresistible impulse, but it looks like you're running away.

Is it strange that I want to see my mother after fifteen years?

- No, but... - Besides, a holiday in Surrey,

away from the city, in my mother's house will do you good.

At least that's what I think. Don't you agree?

But weren't you meant to speak to Hans about your new film?

He's meeting us there.

Did he have an irresistible impulse too?

No, I called him.

Do you mind if we listen to the radio?

Watch out!

- Can you hear music? - It must be the wind.

- It looks like nobody's here. - You should have phoned.

Beep the horn.

What do you want?

I'm Michael Stanford.

I'll be down at once.

Of course. I still recognize you, you're Oliver.

Well? Why are you looking at me like that?

Forgive me, sir.

It's incredible how much you resemble the maestro,

your father.

How's my mother?

Madam has always hoped that one day you'd return.

But obviously not tonight.

She was very tired and went to bed early.

Don't disturb her, I'll see her in the morning.

Bring in the rest of the bags later.

Debora Jordan, my girlfriend.

As far as mother is concerned, she's my secretary.

Why the lantern?

For some time now, just a little rain or wind

and the electricity goes.

Tell me, Oliver...

I thought I heard music when we arrived.

It's not possible.

Not one note has been heard in this house since maestro's death.

One thing.

Your mother is very sick, and she doesn't want you to know.

Give me your bag, I'll carry it.

These are your mother's living quarters.

This was your father's room.

And now, if I may, I'll show the young lady to her room.

I'll see you in a while.

You can make yourself comfortable here, miss.

- Who sleeps in there? - No one, it was maestro's study.

It has been closed up since the day of his death.

Call me if you need anything.

I sleep upstairs, near the attic.

You'll find some candles on the table.

Mother!

Michael!

Finally!

You've come back.

- What's wrong? - Nothing, it's nothing.

I'm overcome with emotions.

See, you brought the light back to this house.

Hold me tight.

Oliver told me that...

Pay no attention to him.

He exaggerates.

He's always talking too much.

Poor Oliver.

I don't know what I'd have done without him.

But now everything will be different.

You're here now. Michael!

Mother, this is Debora.

My secretary.

My compliments, she's nice.

If you want to go downstairs Oliver will have prepared something.

See you tomorrow.

Aren't you eating? What's wrong with you?

Should I be happy?

Your mother isn't eating with us, probably because of me.

And I have to sleep in the attic, nearly a mile from your room.

The atmosphere here is cold. Almost hostile.

The wine is excellent though.

My mother isn't feeling well.

Okay, but why introduce me to her as your secretary?

At least have some fruit.

- Not again! - Why are you complaining?

The dark helps the atmosphere.

Your mother wishes to speak with you.

She wants to see you in her room, immediately.

Don't worry about me.

Michael.

Excuse me.

I always knew you'd come back.

I should have come long ago.

That's not important, you're here now.

The relationship between a mother and son is a mysterious one.

No matter how far...

no matter how long, I always felt that we had...

never really left one another.

I can't stay here long.

I have to travel a lot for work, like a gypsy.

Why not join me in London? We could be near each other.

- We'd see one another often. - No.

This is my home, Michael.

I'm not well.

Oliver told you the truth.

I couldn't face a long trip.

Now that I've returned I'll come to see you again.

Help me up, please.

No, the lights might go again.

I want to show you something.

I should've had this painting taken away.

You have to forget, Michael, like I've forgotten.

I waited for you until now.

You shouldn't have come, I wanted to be alone.

You're hurting me.

- Hello. - Welcome.

- Hi. - Hello.

What about me?

- Where's Michael? - I haven't seen him this morning.

He's probably still sleeping.

I forgot!

I can leave my wife at home, especially on certain occasions,

but never my camera. It's my third eye.

Oliver, will you get their bags?

- Michael told me you were coming. - I needed a rest after the film shoot,

but he forced me to come here.

- Authoritarian and tyrannical as usual. - It's always the way.

Mother, these are my friends.

- Hans Schwartz, the director. - My pleasure.

- Shirley Dawson, assistant director. - Hello.

Beryl Fisher, an actress in our film.

- It's a miracle I'm still alive. - What do you mean?

She's just joking.

It's so cute.

Beautiful.

You're welcome. This way please.

Thank you.

- Make a toast with us. - I'm not drinking.

Please.

May I ask you a question, Oliver?

It is your right to ask, sir. It is my duty to respond.

Why didn't you want me to photograph you?

Must I be sincere?

I'd be grateful if you were.

Because I'm superstitious.

They say a photograph can steal someone's soul,

make them very ill, or even kill them.

Do you mean Voodoo rituals?

On my island, Martinique,

I took part in some rituals like that.

But Shirley would know more about those things.

Just because I was at a few séances doesn't make me an expert in the occult.

Besides, I haven't been at one in a long time.

- What a strange bracelet. - It was a present from my father.

He was an archeologist.

It represents the famous plumed serpent, or something like that.

I don't know what it represents, but it's definitely a magical symbol.

The Mayan religion was mainly based on the plumed serpent.

In any case it's just a legend.

These things can't be proven, you either believe or you don't.

For us they're the meaning of life.

Conversations like these bore me. We have to rise early tomorrow.

To go and see the grounds.

I'll walk you to your room.

- Goodnight. - Goodnight.

- Goodnight. - Goodnight.

- Shall we go up together? - Do you mind if I stay with Beryl?

We've so much to talk about.

Please excuse me, but I couldn't sleep.

I don't think these books will help you nod off.

It's been months, maybe even years, since I've been able to sleep well.

Insomnia really is awful.

Why are you interested in the occult?

The only way to discover life's secret is through magic.

- I don't understand. - Death.

That exact moment when the body and soul separate,

that which in theosophy is known as the astral body.

We would have to capture that exact moment to analyze it,

but to do this we would have to kill with our own hands,

so that not even a wisp of life escapes us.

- Don't you agree? - And would you kill someone for this?

I think so.

There definitely was something evil at play.

How else could a shy, sensitive boy