The road to Halloween is paved with good films. Wherein we countdown to the spirited season with a hundred doses of horror. 19 days to go.
The problem with horror films might be that there are not enough horror films. Let me rephrase, the problem with horror films is that there are not enough good ones. Great ones. That might not be an issue for you, but I love a good scare. A high level of intrigue. Being startled, wondering whats behind that door, those trees. Strange, unexplainable behavior. The danger to humanity, the innocent. Oh I could go on and on. When we talk about really good horror films now it is a rare occurrence for a reason.
In 2016 we talked about the return of the Blair Witch. there was yet more occult activity with The Conjuring 2 and Ouija: Origin of Evil. There were some genuinely impressive creepy moments in Don’t Breathe. And there was also Babak Anvari’s absorbing Under the Shadow (more on that soon). So things (that go bump in the night), shall we say, are looking brighter.
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As far as unadulterated, quality horror films go, there was another almighty gem that stood in the top tier that year. Terrific motion pictures from breakout filmmakers appear to be a new wave of cinema in themselves. This was no different.
The Witch (or The VVitch) is one such film that had nailed down iconic horror status right from the off. Dwelling the endangered children and their somewhat helpless guardians, engulfing our attention with well thought-out conventions of horror execution, The Witch applied so much more of the genre’s impactful make-up than a whole hat-full of your standard run-of-the-mill chillers.
The Witch is a New England folktale by admittance, taking us back to the 17th century. To witness a cast-out family become the victims of an unknown evil deriving from the large forest beside their newly-resided farm. Their tormentors come in the form of a rabbit, a goat, but also through the possession of the children, roughing up the already shaky dynamics of the family. But let’s not leap ahead.
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Making his debut feature, Robert Eggers delivers a classic genre fit here, framing his family repelled from ‘normal’ society in all their isolation. Yet also swift in showing a seemingly strong bond as a unit of kinship. Eerie goings-on, folk under an abstract, social kind of dismay, animals behaving untoward. There’s a fine balance of various horror tropes, utilized with such intricate but blatant effectiveness.
Eldest daughter Thomasin (a teeth-clenchingly magnetic turn from newcomer Anya Taylor-Joy) appears to take the brunt of the blame here. Several times named as a witch by her own kin, all the while the origin of such horrors is not too far away.
The parents tend not to share the same views. The mother (Kate Dickie) is so besotted with the love of her youngest four children – who all befall terrible fortunes – that the finger pointing to Thomasin is, can we say, easy. The father (Ralph Ineson) is stranded in disbelief, loyalty and a primal need to keep this unit intact. Both guardians are vulnerable in these depths.
The Witch is not so much about the black sheep of the family – no more than it dwells on the demeanor of Black Phillip. Thomasin is the scapegoat it seems, where signs seem to head in her direction. She’s with the children with the traumatic events prevail; nothing bad happens to her directly; the younger children (as they might haplessly throw sticks and stones) are impressionable enough to scream ‘witch’ at their sister. What chance does she have?
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While writer-director Eggers wastes no time in making us go “oh fuck” from the outset, his execution is grounded amidst the grasslands, the dark forestry, the shadowy shacks on the interiors. Technically immaculate – and I mean every single frame has evidence of this – The Witch delivers a taut, rustic composite of filmmaking excellence.
The subtle tension of Mark Korven’s organic score is a thing of allergic beauty, penetrating the senses without ever being heavy-handed. The cinematography from Jarin Blaschke captures a truly authentic world, one we too might have ventured into once upon a time. And you would be forgiven for assuming that the natural lighting, and that of the candles inside, were the primary sources – because they were. The oh-so simple is made almighty.
Eggers wrote a cunningly condensed screenplay, rife with local, olde dialect and ways of life. The Witch brings the danger from the woods formula back to life following a whole host of wannabes and duds. Eggers is totally at home here, crafting some really eerie inner-family conflict and unseen potential perils, as told with such a steady, reliant pace. A former study of Shakespeare, a passion for witchcraft as a youngling, and a exceptionally thorough research, sure helped Eggers.
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Without giving too much away for those that have not yet seen this, there are some genuinely frightful moments too. Including a crazed animal attack, and a boy not in control of his own body and mind. Therein lies the true horror, perhaps, having to watch a mother and a father helplessly delirious of their boy’s harrowing possession.
Not a drop of film is wasted in The Witch, every moment seems to feed something of the human fear within us. The final moments, when blood is shed and the true revelation comes to light, is an extraordinary climax. Eggers marked himself as a name to watch in the film world. The excitement around his latest, The Lighthouse, only endorses that.
The Witch looms like fruit that both grows and wilts, as haunting winds pollute the very well-being of loved ones and the simple life we know. A film plagued with beguiling imagery and an accessible vibe of the horror craft. Bewitching, indeed.
