FILMGOERS need independent information to guide them in deciding whether to see the movie. “Greta” is an enigmatic title conveying zero information. Filling that gap reminds me of my value to readers.

“Greta” tells an almost Grand-Guignol story co-written by Ray Wright and director Neil Jordan. A probable reason why it has arrived with so little fanfare is that its US release is a day after its Australian release. So we see it in a sort of green-field environment unsullied by what people in its country of origin think about it.

Isabelle Huppert is a prodigiously productive actress (135 feature movies and TV series covering a broad range of dramatic styles). This time she plays a grieving widow who has left her handbag in a suburban train, where Frances (Chloe Grace Moretz) finds it.

Frances shares an apartment with Erica (Maika Monroe) who’s rather more cautious about her decision to return the bag to the owner. From the first encounter between Frances and Greta, a sense of unease begins to pervade the film. Is it a lapse on the writers’ part? Hang in there and all will be revealed.

Meanwhile, watch while Greta subtly begins to pervade Frances’ life to the point where Frances tells her that she does not wish to see her anymore. Tensions develop. Greta is a stalker. Greta’s apartment contains hidden spaces. Frances finds evidence of other young women having been in Greta’s life.

This is all good horrid fun that both principal actresses give every indication of enjoying playing. Huppert makes a real meal of a deranged woman. Moretz spends a goodly period manacled to a bed and gagged. We don’t really understand what drives Greta’s madness but her malevolent intentions become crystal clear.

Movies like this are made to please an audience cohort to which I don’t belong. But I confess that I found “Greta” entertaining. Almost enjoyable.

At Dendy, Palace Electric, Capitol 6, Hoyts Belconnen and Limelight