Back Catalog Review: The VVitch (2015)
The title logo for The Witch, wherein two "V"s anachronistically represent a "W," acts as the perfect metaphor for writer/director Robert Eggers' confident and often beautiful debut film. The font accurately evokes a specific puritanical period, while the overwrought antiquated spelling detracts from the brooding beauty of the decaying gray typeset against the stark black background. And so it follows with the film.
Eggers envisions his art-house horror story about a 17th century family banished to the New England wilderness in the Kubrickian vein. Unlike many modern studio horror films, which overvalue theme park jump scares and anatomically explicit gore, atmosphere with a capital "A" drives a majority of The Witch's tension. For some, this may mean that "nothing happens," and on a surface level they may be mostly correct, but the real thematic meat of the film relies on stolen glances and the space between conversations. Another factor in the film's atmosphere is the unquestionably brilliant costuming and set design. They lend the film an authenticity that helps to gloss over some of the story's sillier genre concessions. By the same token, the wide-shot heavy cinematography instills in the viewer a real sense of the loneliness of wilderness life.
The high caliber of performance also strengthens the film. Eggers leans heavily on his actors, trusting they can pull off his colloquial colonial English dialogue, and the result is mostly positive. Ralph Ineson's rumbling baritone as the family's tragically inept patriarch may muffle some of the colonial-speak, but his world-weary face and eyes expertly convey the tired desperation of his character. Contrastingly, Kate Dickle, who between this and Game of Thrones has apparently proven that disturbing breastfeeding scenes can be good for your career, tries to find a balance between caring mother and shrill alarmist, however the script leans a bit too heavily on the latter. The youngest members of the family, twins played by Ellie Grainger and Lucas Dawson, suitably increase the creep factor along with Black Philip the devilish family goat, but they unfortunately come across more as living props than actual characters. Young actor Harvey Scrimshaw, playing the eldest-but-still-young son Caleb, deserves high marks for a particularly well-acted scene of semi-possession. The wholehearted commitment of his performance in this scene feels all the more striking because of how understated and stoic he plays it in the rest of the film.
The real standout performance comes from the film's lead actress, Anya Taylor-Joy as Thomasin the oldest of the four children. She is gifted with an incredibly expressive face that can speak volumes without a single word. Somehow, she exudes both strength and vulnerability, sometimes in the same frame, and Eggers uses that core performance to subtly hint at some interesting, but ultimately confusing feminist themes.
Those thematic elements, and a handful of cliché scenes, are the biggest problems with the film. On the one hand, conflating a coven of witches with an empowering feminist movement feels like a fresh avenue into an important and timely discussion. On the other, the actions of the witch, or witches, in the film are so horrific and distasteful, that they muddy the message. To put it another way, whether the viewer is meant to celebrate or lament Thomasin's bondage-shattering journey is unclear. What's more, Eggers deft hand at exploring some powerful ideas of religious paranoia and the folly of fanaticism, make the muddled feminist message feel like a larger miss. Similarly, setting the grim seriousness of most of the film against a couple puerile fourth-wall breaking moments only serves to accentuate the silliness of the latter. For example, the sight of a beautiful woman about to kiss one of the characters, replete with some fabulous nods to the Grimm fairy tales, is punctuated by her unnaturally aged witch hand popping into the frame for the audience's benefit. Apparently, a witch's powers of illusion are limited by the need for audience awareness.
Despite all this, the film is still above-average and worthy of a recommendation. If you are looking for a scare-a-thon like The Conjuring or Insidious (both good films in their own right), this may not be for you. However, if you can overlook some of the quibbles above, you will be treated to a smartly-acted disturbing period piece that will stick with you long after you see it.
