Happy 2026 to my Rewind & Revive readers and listeners.
Today, I’m finally sharing a long-overdue podcast episode on a film that’s haunted me since my first watch in late November: Harry Kümel’s 1971 surreal gothic marvel, Malpertuis.
I originally planned to release this episode late last year, but the deeper I went (into the film, its production, and Kümel himself), the more it demanded patience. I found that English-language material on Kümel is scarce as of this writing, so much of this episode was shaped by a close study of the recent Radiance Films 4K release, whose essays, archival interviews, and commentaries served as my guiding light.
At a certain point, though, research gives way to trust. As such, I invited my friend and fellow physical media obsessive Philip Marinello (The Substance Podcast) to join me, and together we unpack the strange, seductive logic of Malpertuis.
I’ve included my original Letterboxd review below as a primer — otherwise, I invite you to step inside with us. Enjoy, my friends.
Harry Kümel drops you into Malpertuis the same way Jan (Mathieu Carrière) stumbles into it. From the opening alone, we watch the young sailor chase a girl through unsettlingly empty streets with no score, no noise — just footsteps echoing along narrow alleys. Then, he crosses a threshold, and suddenly a smoky, red-saturated cabaret erupts around him. The shift was disorienting. It took me a moment to realize I’d be trapped in Malpertuis, too.
At times, the film has a hyper-stylized theatricality that feels almost Fassbinderian. The bar fight cutting to close-ups of instruments, the red-beaded curtains, the perfectly curated chaos — it’s hard to know where to look, or what to focus on. Once Jan wakes up inside the labyrinthine mansion that is Malpertuis itself, the film slips into a chamber piece with hazy dream logic, flirting with Bergman’s darker work, especially Hour of the Wolf.
What struck me most is how repetitive the space is: endless corridors, looping staircases, doors that lead to nowhere, servants trekking down hallways that seem to stretch into the dark forever. I wondered how Kümel scouted such a grand location until I sat down to go through the Radiance Films extras. DP Gerry Fisher and art director Philippe Graff had the idea to hand-paint a few floors of that winding staircase on canvas to create the illusion of infinite depth. Similarly, in the sitting room where everyone gathers, Fisher thought of painting the flames on all the lamps scattered throughout. Malpertuis becomes less a house and more a funhouse — both for Jan and us.
Spoiling the late-game reveals would be a disservice. If you’ve read the Jean Ray novel, you’ll know what I mean. Once the film tips from gothic mystery into… something else, and everything clicks into place, it becomes utterly engrossing.
Next to Carrière, the cast is a joy. Michel Bouquet and Jean-Pierre Cassel are excellent, but Susan Hampshire is the undeniable star. She plays five roles, each wildly different, and earns every bit of trust Kümel placed in her (he’d initially considered Catherine Deneuve, but Hampshire had the range he needed). Of course, there’s also Orson Welles, who plays the dying estate owner, Cassavius. Imposing yet immovable in a bed draped in red — the most visually decadent area of Malpertuis — he radiates the weary and irritable gravity of a myth who very much knows he’s slipping, but seems to be enjoying it anyway.
I’m unsure if I’ll ever fully find my way out of Malpertuis. It doesn’t end so much as it settles in; illusions flickering, folding over one another, the house continuing to exist just beyond reach.
Philip Marinello’s The Substance is a semi-weekly podcast with well over 150 episodes that has conversations to help folks better appreciate goodness, truth, and beauty. There’s a strong emphasis on cinema, with regular conversations with wonderful guests from the film world, as well as shows featuring academics, advocates, and faith leaders working to make the world a better and fuller place.
Follow Philip on Instagram, Letterboxd, and check out The Substance on Spotify and Apple Podcasts.
For additional resources, check out The Projection Booth’s episode on Malpertuis, hosted by our friend, Mike White.
If you’re looking to buy a copy of Malpertuis, head on over to MVD Shop, where the Radiance release is on sale, as of this writing.
You can also listen to or watch this episode on:
