Robert
Eggers debut horror film “The Witch” is one of those rare tour de force first
features that spotlights a true talent to look out for. This black metal folk tale is a near-perfect
study in tone and immersive tension, with a keen sense of setting and period that boasts a handful of completely credible performances. It not only uses the
macabre to sell its aesthetics as a horror film but it embraces a true sense of
darkness and slithering evil that will stay in your consciousness long after
the initial shock of its deranged third act.
Even more
astonishing, “The Witch” has finally broken the hex that dictates that movies
starring actors from “Game of Thrones” must suck (“Pompeii,” “The Other Woman,”
“Terminator: Genisys”). Ralph Ineson and Kate Dickie play the mother and father
of a 1630 puritan family who decide to leave their New England pilgrim community
to settle their own property in the middle of a nearby gloomy forest. There they hope
to build a purer relationship with God, away from the noise of regular society.
Their eldest daughter Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy) has begun to question the
logic of her parents, their son Caleb (Harvey Scrimshaw) is coming to terms
with his difficult puberty, their two young twins may or may not be talking to
evil spirits through the family's farm goats and their unbaptized newborn has just gone
missing. After the kidnapping, the family begins to find themselves crushed
with religious guilt, exposing each member’s personal struggles with sin. Soon
internal battles with lust, pride and dishonesty manifests themselves into real or
perceived oppressions from the dark forces lurking within the shrouded forest.
What makes
this film more narratively enriching than your average cabin in the woods shocker
is that the screenplay, laced with biblical, old-English dialogue, is just as committed to the drama and the interior lives of the characters as it
is with hitting all the intended genre beats as a thriller. The performances by the
mostly-unknown cast are realistic and heartbreaking, especially by lead actress
Taylor-Joy whose emotional and symbolic arc within the film is both complex and challenging. Rather than lacing
the plot with empty boo-scares and gotchya moments, every character is
tormented by their own guilt and their own fears, with the titular Witch preying on
the family’s vulnerabilities in ways that are visually creative and truly horrific.
The sets
look lived in and the grim 1600's period imagery is never played for theatrical camp. Because of the intense attention to the film's cosmetic details, Eggers
portrayal of pagan magic is strangely believable within the context of this satanic
melodrama. Cinematographer Jarin Blaschke uses single-source lighting-schemes
with metaphoric intent, etching the characters and subjects out of the natural
darkness, while never defaulting to flat desaturation or an overuse of digital
color-correction.
Some might
search for a contemporary message within the story and when talking
about dangerous accusations of witchcraft, feminism rises to the surface, and if
you’re looking for it, that’s certainly in there. But the picture’s more prevalent
theme is of man’s relationship with sin and the unhealthy consequences of
repression.
Given the character’s conflicts with their own faith alongside the high-contrast imagery that's obscured by spindly tree-branches, Swedish art-house auteur Ingmar Bergman would have been proud of this film's relative mainstream success.
Given the character’s conflicts with their own faith alongside the high-contrast imagery that's obscured by spindly tree-branches, Swedish art-house auteur Ingmar Bergman would have been proud of this film's relative mainstream success.
“The Witch”
was released wide and is being sold as a casual winter horror programmer but unlike
the seemingly generic title, this movie is anything but a lazy and predictable experience.
The pace is deliberately slow and not unlike Kubrick’s “The Shining,” its taught sense of dread moves closer to you as each sequence pulls the cord a little tighter.
There’s certainly entertainment to be had in all its artful spookiness, but this is not
really a popcorn film. Rather, this is a masterful study in atmosphere, history and religious
philosophy that deserves as much discussion as it deserves your gasps and
nightmares.
Grade: A+
Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/Feb-2016
Listen to more discussion about "The VVitch" on this week's Jabber and the Drone Podcast.
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