The Season of the VVitch
Created | Updated Oct 23, 2016
Just when we thought it was safe to go back into Netflix...
The Season of The VVitch
First, what the real reviewers said about this film:
...an atmospheric chiller rooted in the fertile soil of religious zealotry, social isolation and original sin.
Mark Kermode
...gripping historical horror-thriller...
Variety
The Witch scared the hell out of me.
Stephen King, on Twitter
We are empowered by the narrative...
Jeff Blackmore, National Spokesperson for The Satanic Temple
Wow. A lot to unpack here, as the university lecturer would say before rustling his notes. The VVitch, spelled this way for reasons which are probably 3% esoteric and 97% pretentious, is the freshman indie effort by Robert Eggers that has been a big hit with Sundance audiences, horror writers like Stephen King, practically every film reviewer in the English-speaking world1, and a gleeful bunch of Satanists. Apparently, the Satanists find the film's message 'empowering' to young women with a grudge against being forced to do all the chores while your bratty little siblings get to play around. I mean, what teenage girl hasn't wanted to [MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT] butcher her family and offer their dripping carcasses to the devil every now and again?
Being a contrary sort, I found much to criticise in this film, beginning with the fact that it was shot with 'available light'. I'm tired of peering at gloomy movies. If you're going to use available light, make some available. Shoot on a Greek beach. Okay, there are no vvitches on Greek beaches, but there were actually far fewer vvitches in New England in 1630 than is popularly believed.
Speaking of light, there is an online kibitzer who complains about the number of candles this New England family was using. 'Candles were extremely expensive in colonial New England and would have been used very sparingly,' it says on the imdb. Yes, of course you're right. But would you have wanted to sit through 92 minutes of this gorefest if it had been shot by rushlight? I rest my case.
Much has been made of the authentic dialogue, a good deal of it taken from contemporary sources. I'll pass the dialogue. I only heard one line where I thought, 'No, he wouldn't have said, "I am afraid." He would have said, "I be afeared."' Which is pretty good, because I have a ridiculous habit of being unable to turn off my internal historical linguist while watching grade-B horror flicks. The accents were terrific, too: my guess is that Father William hailed from somewhere near Sheffield. He probably regretted moving.
All the actors did a good job. The cinematography is also excellent. According to the director, not one spooky thing happened while filming, which in itself is remarkable, because of course this quintessentially New England story was shot in Kiosk, Ontario, Canada. The director claims they were so far back of Beyond that it made New Hampshire look like a thriving metropolitan area. Under those circumstances, not having at least one paranormal experience should count as some sort of record.
For my money, the real kudos go to the animal actors. There's a hare, a dog, a raven, a gorgeous Clydesdale, and, of course, Black Peter. The billy goat stole the show, although there are rumours of creative differences with the director on set. I wouldn't be surprised to see this player again somewhere. Elektra's only comment after sitting through The VVitch was, 'The goat was cute.'
What is the moral of this movie? Take your pick. According to a lot of reviewers and the Satanists, the film is about the empowerment of women. Why empowering women involves quite that much mayhem is something that could no doubt be explained by a different kind of feminist than I am.
A sneaky alternate explanation is provided in the subtext of the film by the presence of fungus on the family's crops. In case you're not aware, the 1690s outbreak of witch hunting in Salem, Massachusetts Bay Colony, is now thought to be largely the result of a damp summer resulting in smut on the wheat and rye, and an epidemic of ergotism. Ergotism sends people on acid trips. Apparently, 17th-century people on acid tended to see demons and witches. This is an unpleasant fact about the human imagination which, to my way of thinking, is not improved upon by using the same plot to support social protest.
Then there's this reviewer's suggestion for a moral. Here goes: William and Kate, don't argue theology with a Puritan. It wastes your time, annoys the Puritan, and ends up with you being exiled into a hostile frontier full of dangerous fungus and resentful teenagers. Stay home in Yorkshire and lay low. Eventually, things in the UK will improve, although your five-times-great-grandchildren will have to put up with Margaret Thatcher. But if they were willing to sacrifice you to the devil in the first place, it serves the little beggars right.
This film is available on streaming services, if you have sharp eyes and are bored enough.
