Drive-In Dust Offs: The Mephisto Waltz (1971)

The old joke goes that the way one gets to Carnegie Hall is practice; while this is also a truism that can be applied to any tenet of life, it’s particularly ironic in The Mephisto Waltz (1971): yes, hard work is great, but it’s much easier to just have Satan put a concert pianist’s soul in your body to achieve your dreams. Not as funny, but easier.

The Mephisto Waltz (based on the novel of the same name by Fred Mustard Stewart) danced onto screens in early June to scathing reviews and tepid box office; even its support group find fault with key elements (we’ll get to the grievances in a bit) all these years later. I would say they are correct except I find the film works well enough despite its issues; truth be told there aren’t many Satanic flicks I don’t like,

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