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Von der Lippe, George B.  “Death in Venice in Literature and Film: Six 20th-Century Versions.” Mosaic: A Journal for the Interdisciplinary Study of Literature 32(1) (1999): 35-54.

Von der Lippe places Don’t Look Now into a genre specific to Venice.  He compares Don’t Look Now to Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice, Ian McEwan’s Comfort of Strangers, etc. and finds common threads in them which he weaves into a genre.  Much in the same way that film critics found similar styles in American crime films and called them “film noir,” Von der Lippe sees these works as Venice-specific works (a term which he does not actually use).  In these works, Venice is defined by its labyrinthine design.  Venice is also described as a place of escape; as Von der Lippe writes, “All of the travelers have left their northern homes in search of that which has been lost.”  Venice is where their search takes them, but, unfortunately, they will never find what they are looking for in Venice.  Von der Lippe sets up Venice as the only logical place where Don’t Look Now could be set.  Venice is a disorienting place and a place of escape, and Don’t Look Now is about a couple escaping their troubles, searching for answers, and getting lost in their search (although it is only John who gets lost).  Von der Lippe shows that it is not just Laura who is impervious to the trappings of Venice, but all of the women in these Venice-specific works.  He writes, “Most often it is the women of these tales who are strong - who traverse the labyrinth with relative ease and confidence.”  He does not go into detail as to why it is the women who are able to “traverse the labyrinth,” but he describes in depth how the women do this in each work.
Von der Lippe focuses most of his essay on the recurring theme of the labyrinth in the various works.  He argues that, “central to the continuing fascination with Venice and the dominant metaphor in this archetypal tale is the “labyrinth.””  As we have seen in other essays concerning Don’t Look Now, the twisting, confusing geography of Venice is central to Roeg’s film...
Dempsey, Michael.  “Review of Don’t Look Now.”  Film Quarterly 27(3) (1974).

Dempsey begins his review by comparing Roeg’s film to the source material, Daphne du Maurier’s short story.  He blames the film’s “creaky plot” on Du Maurier, who (he claims), “specializes in romantic sludge” (39).  Dempsey understands that the film’s weak plot is not the fault of Roeg, so he is not too harsh in his criticism of Roeg’s handling of the plot.  He states that, “too often the gears grind when Roeg tries to shift from this old-hat storyline to the subtext of fear and uncertainty that he has built into it” (39).  Dempsey actually compliments Roeg for creating a fascinating film from a plot, which he is admittedly not fond of.  The saving grace of the film, according to Dempsey, is Roeg, more explicitly, his style.  Dempsey writes that, “Roeg’s style pitches us headlong into [John and Laura’s] disorientation” (40).   Dempsey allocates most of his review to explaining of Roeg’s style, which Roeg achieves through editing.  Dempsey goes so far as to compare Roeg to the famous Russian montage filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein, because Roeg too “lean[s] heavily on editing for his effects” (40).  The effect that Roeg produces with montage is the same effect described by James Palmer in his essay, “Seeing, Believing, and “Knowing” in Narrative Film: Don’t Look Now Revisited.”  Using montage, Roeg “undercut[s] our total allegiance to reason” (41); in effect, making us mistrust out vision the same way that John mistrusts his.  Roeg’s use of montage has the opposite effect of Eisenstein’s, undermining the action, instead of reinforcing it.  Dempsey describes, “Roeg’s montage does not say that two shots are connected; it says that they might be” (41).  The idea of not knowing, of being forced to puzzle it out, is the essence of Don’t Look Now and is the same theme discussed in Palmer’s essay.
Dempsey’s review, unlike any other analyses of Don’t Look Now that I discovered, features an in-depth analysis of the love-making scene, which is probably the most well-known scene in Don’t Look Now.  He argues that, the intercutting of sex shots with shots of the couple getting dressed, “makes the sense doubly erotic-yet also melancholy” (41).  We get the sense, from the intercutting, that, “no matter how intense their love or how satisfying their sex may be, John and Laura still cannot save themselves” (41)...

Wilson, Kristi. “Time, Space, and Vision: Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now.” Screen 40(3) (1999): 277-94.

Wilson is a feminist film critic (she lets the reader know from the start), so her analysis of Don’t Look Now comes from a completely different perspective than other available analyses. She argues that the film represents “failed masculinity” (294), embodied by John Baxter and his failure to prevent his death. John’s failure comes from his inability to interpret space. The first hard evidence of this that Wilson brings up is the book John has written, Fragile Geometry (Laura is reading it in the opening sequence). Wilson argues that the title of the book reflects John’s own failure at understand the “fragile geometry” of time and space. Roeg’s montage, with its questionable linearity, visually represents this “fragile geometry.” Roeg blurs the lines between the real and the unreal and the past, present, and future. Wilson refers to the effect of Roeg’s montage as “slippage,” because Roeg moves between real and unreal, for example, so fluidly, that the audience rarely picks up on it. She articulates the effect of this “slippage” on the audience, when she explains:

All that seems solid where the film is concerned, whether we are referring to Roeg’s visually unconventional presentation of the narrative, or his character’s sense of architectural/geographical control, proves to be illusory. (294)

She argues that the sequence, in which blood appears on John’s slide, “provides a literal example of physical slippage between background and foreground” (290). Wilson sees John as a synecdoche for all men, in his inability to recognize “slippage” (i.e. recognize omens and portents), because all of the women in the film are attuned to the “slippage” and recognize when the unreal world (e.g. the spirit world) enters the real world. I disagree with this assumption, because I don’t see all the women as recognizing the “slippage.” Heather does, because she has the gift of ‘second sight;’ the other women merely believe that she can see the “slippage”...

Palmer, James, “Seeing, Believing, and “Knowing” in Narrative Film: Don’t Look Now Revisited.” Literature Film Quarterly 23(1) (1995): 14-25.
Palmer makes sense of Don’t Look Now using in-depth shot analysis, explication of themes, and interpretation of the film through the work of psychologist and scientist Carl Jung. The main thrust of his argument is that the film is about vision and interpreting what we see, which makes it a self-reflexive film. The problem that occurs in Don’t Look Now is that one’s vision cannot be trusted.
Palmer argues that Roeg’s film makes us question how we ‘read’ (i.e. understand) films in the same way that John questions his understanding of reality. Palmer writes that, “in Roeg’s film one may wonder if anything is what it seems” (14). We are shown events that may or may not occur and images that could not possibly exist in real life, which have the effect of undermining our sense of reality. Palmer puts forth that, “Don’t Look Now suggests that the physical world can mislead and, by extension, that the encoding of ways of seeing and interpreting a world presented in narrative film can also be called into question” (16). He interprets the dust that blows into Wendy’s eye (and obstructs her vision) as a metaphor for the calling into question of one’s method of “seeing and interpreting.” The film is self-reflexive, because it is about questioning one’s vision; one’s modus of interpretation, and the viewer is forced to question these things as s/he watches the film. The sequence where we finally see Heather’s blind eyes highlights this self-reflexive quality to the film, because we are only able to understand after we have seen after a later scene in the film. The proximity of the shot of Heather’s eyes and the shot of John and Laura leaving their home in the rain confuses the viewer as to who is seeing what, John or Laura (19). Only after we learn that John is psychic are we able to go back to this scene and reinterpret it, understanding that perhaps it is John who sees Heather’s blindness with his ‘second sight.’ Palmer also analyzes the opening credit sequence to show the self-reflexive quality of the film, that only by seeing the only thing are we able to go back and understand it...
Based on the short story by Daphne du Maurier, Directed by Nicolas Roeg, Screenplay by Chris Bryant and Allan Scott, Music by Pino Donnagio, Starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie