“The Witch” Brings Modern Horror to a Conservative Setting

The early months of each calendar year are usually littered with mediocre film releases. Production studios apparently view this as the perfect time to drop the latest Nicholas Sparks adaptation or an unnecessary animated sequel, as more discerning audiences catch up on the previous year’s award contenders.

But amidst this annual dry season, a standout like The Witch arrives to revive some sense of quality in your local cinema. This new period flick creates a fresh interpretation of early America, and represents a return to classic horror techniques that have long since faded away in favor of flashy effects and cheap tricks.

The Witch is set in the Puritan era, when witch hunts were at their prime and inevitable paranoia festered among neighbors and kin. A man of strict religious conviction (played by the reliable Ralph Ineson) finds himself excommunicated from his commune for sparsely detailed reasons, prompting him to relocate his devoted wife (Kate Dickie) and the rest of their family from the relative safety of their community into their dangerous new life in the unpopulated wilds. But with the strength of their faith and the favor of God, they expect to prevail and prosper in their adopted environment.

It should go without saying that there is a monster lying in the shadows, prepared to spend the next hour and a half teasing patient moviegoers. However, this film truly wastes no time demonstrating the danger at hand. The initial scenes have a refreshingly heightened pace, which does not relinquish for a moment as the film progresses. Exposition is swiftly presented, the threat of the titular witch is clearly established, and the rest is unceremoniously flung at the audience whether they are ready for it or not.

Much of this film’s success lies in the efforts of a talented and underrated cast, led by newcomer Anya Taylor-Joy. Her portrayal of the eldest daughter only gets more fascinating to witness as her simmering disgust for her current condition reaches a boiling point and we see her modest attitude dissolve into fiery disapproval. Her parents, both portrayed by Game of Thrones alums, show talent with the tactful dialogue and manage to taint each spoken word with the weight of their characters’ histories. The script, by first-time writer and director Robert Eggers, somehow supplies each member of this doomed family with adequate growth and distinguishable personality.

The Witch has little time for simple examinations of good versus evil, its interests aligning more with questions regarding family dynamics and religious values. Eggers chooses to explore how these convictions hold up under increasing pressure from devastating losses and betrayals. The film understands that faith among human beings is fragile and prone to failure, and the ways in which people deal with its breakdown are unpredictable and possibly explosive.

Throughout the film, we see the members of this family fall victim to the flaws in their own faith and then attempt to cope through a variety of methods. Some embrace their fears and use them as a reason to turn to severe measures, while others cling desperately to their shattered beliefs and grow violent in the wake of their denial. One particularly poignant moment shows a pure, sensitive soul turn to darkness in the absence of any more legitimately sensible options. The film expertly captures how easily bonds can be broken, whether of family or of faith, when pushed to the right extremes.

While a horror film at heart, this film contains few staples of the genre. Instead, it takes a huge risk by accentuating the conservative tensions inherent in its setting. The real enemies to fear here are the quick judgments and false conclusions that can originate from an outdated mindset, giving birth to a tone that is unrelentingly taut and without catharsis for much of the film’s run-time. This is the film’s greatest strength, alongside an exceptional eye for period details. Each line of dialogue is written and delivered with the era in mind. Much of the script is even heavily borrowed from historical documents. Many audience members may be turned off by this aspect of the film, or may grow restless as the language remains consistently uneasy to the ears. However, there is a surprisingly modern quality to the filmmaking that allows this movie to become more accessible than it’s setting should allow it to be.

In the end, The Witch refuses to settle for being just one type of film. It is very well aware of its period trappings, as well as its duties as a horror film, but chooses to follow its own path. This rebellious nature is undeniably subtle, but ultimately shows the mark of a film with high ambitions that produce equally grand results.

Cover image: Steve Thompson