One of those movies that represents a primal nightmare, in this case of a single woman who is not comfortable with men. She hates her sister’s boyfriend leaving his razor etc in the bathroom over her things, she hates any intimacy shown both towards her and towards other women, she even find women talking about men uncomfortable.

Slowly, she imagines attacks, and descends into her own private madness where her imagination and reality become mixed and interchangeable.

A masterful movie, with the usually upright and confident Catherine Deneuve giving a mousey, timid performance, and looking more waifish than lovely.

Her look also is echoed in a later movie by Polanski – Rosemary’s Baby – where Mia Farrow looks like a short haired version of this poor girl.

Polanski would go on to reexplore urban alienation and madness in the masterful “The Tenant” several years after this.