Finding ourselves at the tail end of this couple's grief towards the loss of their daughter years ago, they are, once again, in the majesty of Venice. John, hoping to reignite that noted dwindling passion that sits between them, and Laura, who finds herself sometimes distracted and far more muted than she was in their earlier years together. What starts as a playful game between them through their identification of a pair of twin sisters turns into a foreboding downward spiral that would challenge their lives further.

With Rebecca acting as my only reference point for the works of Daphne du Maurier, the pathway that she has taken as an author from there to this short story is unavailable for me to tap on whilst I absorbed this tale of tragedy. Her style feels rather different here, dividing herself between the characters whilst ultimately taking on a perspective that is neither within its two primary characters; perhaps an insightful outsider. She addresses themes of grief, marital decay, and death in such a manner that feels thick in its overall atmosphere. Approaching her gothic sensibilities that I found in Rebecca and layering it over this Macbethian narrative opened up my mind to such ideas in such an unsettling but curious manner, questioning everything that was served to me.

Don't Look Now proves itself to be more elusive than one may expect, yet it is in that nature that it finds the assertion in residing itself in one's thoughts. You'll find yourself recalling moments that beg for dissection, and yet perhaps to do so may also leave one disappointed, since du Maurier has provided us with something so ambiguous. This may not prove to be her most accessible point but it is a good story within her body of work. It proved to me that her craftsmanship isn't just a one-trick pony.