Jane Arden’s violent and powerful adaptation of her work with The Holocaust women’s theatre troupe looks into the mind of a woman labelled schizophrenic and finds, not madness, but tortured sexual guilt created by the taboos of society.
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I saw the work print of this, with 20 more minutes than the final version. Some of the additional scenes don't work at all and make the first half even more difficult to get through than it already is. But many moments astonish and terrify, and it all adds up to the most gruelingly accurate depiction of a schizoid mindstate on film.
Sometimes intoxicating, always nauseating. /
"What is a schizophrenic?"
"Oh, my God, there are so many
different definitions, you see, depending upon
the psychiatrist who's making it."
"So it's entirely through his eyes?"
"It is, exactly."