The Witch (2015) Director: Robert Eggers
“Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”
★★★★★
The Witch advertises itself as a folktale (perhaps as opposed to a fairy tale). It is another inspiring production from A24, a studio increasingly renowned for taking risks and supporting up and coming directors. The Witch is the directorial debut of Robert Eggers and it is part of an extraordinary renaissance in the horror genre as we move beyond amusing parodies of slasher films into serious, intelligent (albeit haunting) portrayals of the unknown. Of the two films thus far released by Robert Eggers, I prefer The Witch to The Lighthouse, but I look forward to seeing what comes next (apparently he is set to release a Nordic-themed thriller next year and a remake of F.W. Murnau’s silent German horror classic Nosferatu in the future).
In the cold, grey atmosphere of New England during the 1630s, one family has been banished from a rigid puritanical colony as a result of religious disagreements (though we later learn their banishment is merely the result of sinful pride). With a newborn child, toddler twins, a boy named Caleb, and a teenaged daughter named Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy), the somewhat pig-headed family patriarch William (Ralph Ineson, whom I immediately recognized from his role in the UK The Office series), and his wife Katherine (Kate Dickie) build a new homestead at the edge of a wooded forest. Almost from the beginning of the film, the ground itself seems to be cursed. The crops fail and even a hen cannot produce an egg to eat. One morning while Thomasin is playing peek-a-boo, the baby suddenly vanishes. We then see scenes of a naked, elderly witch killing the child to harvest its blood.
From here, things become chaotic for this devoutly pious family, though notably they are none of them blameless –each family member is a sinner in his or her own way. The wild, mysterious untamed woods set an ominous backdrop of witchery or satanism in contrast to the mild security provided by the village or their farm. One morning, Caleb goes missing (we see him lured into a hut by a witch) only to return to his family in the night naked and completely disoriented. The family prays over Caleb but he shouts various things and coughs up a whole apple before suddenly dying. Fingers begin to point at Thomasin who is accused of being a witch, but she reiterates that the twins claim to have spoken with “Black Philip” the family’s horned goat. Thus, William locks them all in the stable as puishment, but that night a witch appears and kills the twins. In the morning, William finds the stable destroyed but before he can attack Thomasin he is suddenly gored to death by Black Philip (the family goat), and Katherine attacks Thomasin but in defense she stabs her mother to death. Now left alone, Thomasin speaks to Black Philip, who surprisingly offers her “the world” and a “delicious life” in a haunting, whispery voice. Thomasin agrees and signs her name in his book, strips naked, and wanders into the woods where she happens upon a witch’s covent. At the end, she flies upward into the night sky amidst an uproar of maniacal laughter (this mysterious haunting laughter is later echoed in Eggers’ next film The Lighthouse). The very thing she resisted most of all (witchery) has now become Thomasin’s only remaining means of survival.
Right down to the use of natural lighting, and authentic dialogue based on historical journals from the period, and a realistic set constructed in the remote Canadian wilderness, The Witch brings a breath of fresh air to the horror genre –not unlike themes found in The Exorcist or Rosemary’s Baby. The disturbing aspect of The Witch is that we (the audience) find ourselves in the unusual position of longing for Thomasin to escape from her brooding and repressive family, to transcend her decaying, lifeless faith, and find a better way to live. However, a witch is never fully alone. Thomasin escapes one insular, stale religious world and replaces it with perhaps merely another more dangerous religious cult. Some have interpreted this film as a feminist allegory as Thomasin finds liberation in satanism, but I think there is a bit more nuance here. This is not mere Marxist liberation from the bonds of society, station, family, and religion –instead this is an example of swapping one repression for another because human survival in the wilderness depends upon some degree of religious superstition, and perhaps that the truly horrifying realization we can glean from The Witch.
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I feel that a feminist witch film wouldn’t involve so much killing of innocents, but perhaps I’m old fashioned. If I were a murderously inclined woman with powers, I’d be killing patriarchs. Plus, why is it necessary to be superstitious to live in the wild?