[Editor’s Note: This review does contain some spoilers.]
The Witch is an unsettling and cinematically-beautiful film that challenges its viewers through its themes and multilayered construction. But it is not at all what you might expect.
Written and directed by Robert Eggers, The Witch is the latest film to capitalize on the public’s continued obsession with witch stories and, even more specifically, the Salem mythos. Subtitled “A New England Folk Tale,” the title alone sets a definitive tone for an American audience before a single ticket is purchased and the lights go down in the theater. The legendary connection between witches and New England is woven into the very fabric of the American story, captivating the imagination and intriguing the mind. We know the drill, so to speak.
However, The Witch is set in 1630, decades before the infamous Salem witch trials, but it retains the same ethos. Because we, as American viewers, have legacy with the story, we enter this one with a certain knowing. Religious faith, defined by Christianity, will be challenged. Someone, most likely a young woman, is going to be accused of witchcraft and, as with the most recent Salem retellings, magic is actually “afoot.”
This is how Eggers’ film works. He uses well-known, culturally and religiously-based tropes as well as very familiar folkloric iconography to build his world. A family leaves its community due to religious differences and finds itself living alone in a field at the edge of a dark forest, a place typically associated with mystery, evil and magic. Throughout the film, Eggers punctuates the narrative with images of this woodland area, and he lingers within these shots as if to contemplate what is actually going on within its darkness. He conjures folkloric iconography to enrich his tale, including visual or spoken references to Hansel and Gretel, Red Riding Hood and Baba Yaga, wolves, apples and woodland huts. Additionally, to play into the growing fear, Eggers throws in icons long associated in the western world with satanic witchcraft as defined by Catholicism, such as goats, hares, and crows.
But Eggers doesn’t simply dive into a fantasy-based horror film pitting “man against the wood.” This is not Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013). The Witch is an historically-based, fiction tale complete with “thine” and “thou” and other such speak. While he employs the fairytale trope of the forbidden forest and all that it implies, Eggers weaves a 17th-century morality tale, in which extreme religious piety slowly strangles a family, figuratively speaking. In that way, the entire film thematically becomes an exercise in exploring the limits of human control; of self, of others and of the world. The film pits the extremes of the uncontrolled, or the wild, against the extremes of the controlled, or religious fanaticism.
The Witch opens with a close-up of Thomasin, a teenage girl and the oldest child in the family (Anya Taylor-Joy), and it remains on her face as the voice of her father William (Ralph Ineson) explains how they can no longer live in the Puritan community due to religious differences. From the start, the film sets up a patriarchal family structure, led by a self-confident father with a deep, booming voice. The film then proceeds onward as the family makes its way into unexplored territory to set up a homestead and attempt to survive alone.
After baby Samuel disappears into the woods, the family structure begins to break down. As control slowly erodes, parents William and Katherine (Kate Dickie) cling desperately to their Christian faith. Their answer is always to pray harder and to pray more; to confess and to be pious. But that fails them personally, just as it fails the family as a whole. William’s own frustration is expressed by his obsessive need to chop wood, a small symbol of what is consuming his family. As his daughter remarks, he can’t farm and he can’t hunt – two other ways of taming the wild. So he chops wood and prays; this is eventually where he meets his end.
Unlike many modern horror films, Eggers doesn’t rush through telling of his story, nor does he complicate the narrative. The Witch maintains an effective stillness that values the simplicity of visual tension over loud, graphically-explicit content as typically found in modern films. Eggers moves along very slowly and precisely, lingering within shots and cutting to black at poignant moments. The mood is only disrupted by a few “jump” moments and a limited amount of gore, violence and nudity. The music, or lack thereof, and the gray cinematography contribute to the film’s eerie environment, paralleling both the extremes of religious piety and the fear of what is lurking in the wood.
The folklore references, which are known to the viewer, are also known to the family members, and that is partly what entraps and encircles them either by their fear or by their reality. This is where the film gets complicated and perhaps loses its strength to some degree. Is the presented fantasy folklore a product of the family’s religious beliefs or is it real? In other words, is there really a witch in the woods?
Plot-wise, the answer is yes. There is a witch in the woods. Near the beginning, the Baba Yaga figure is shown without any juxtaposition, visually or otherwise, to a family member’s experience. This suggests that she is real. However, this is only time that happens. All other visuals of magic or witches are directly linked to a family member’s process in some way, which leaves the viewer questioning whether the presented magic is simply a product of fear and desire as characters lose their self control.
For example, Caleb (Harvey Scrimshaw), the adolescent son, is seduced by a witch disguised as a beautiful maiden. The mother is lured into chaos by images of her dead sons. The disrespectful and creepy Hansel and Gretel-like twins, Mercy (Ellie Grainger) and Jonas (Lucas Dawson), are said to be under the control of the family billy goat named Black Phillip. Are these characters suffering from delusions after being overtaken by the pain of loss, the boredom of social isolation and the fear of desire? In the end, the answer doesn’t matter. Whether or not the witch and the magic are real or simply products of the fanatic mind is irrelevant, because ultimately the wild wins.
![[still from the film]](https://wildhunt.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/large_the-witch-500x301.jpg)
Thomasin [From the film: “The Witch” (2016)]
In more traditional Salem-based or satanic witch films, a young woman’s sexuality, expression of or protection of, becomes paramount. She must be saved from a symbolic defiling or, if she willingly becomes wild, she must be brought back and reincorporated into proper society or otherwise killed. In addition, traditionally speaking, the teenage girl in the western fairy tale must struggle against an angry mother as part of her journey toward womanhood. In the end, the wild is vanquished and society upheld by a man’s heroics. In one way or another, we are returned to a status quo, purging the bad and upholding the good.
However, in Eggers’ film, Thomasin is the only character who “holds it together” as the family society erodes. She does what she is told, washing clothes, caring for and comforting her siblings, working with the goats, remembering her prayers and loving her parents. She even tries desperately to soothe her angry mother. Thomasin is not at all seduced by the wild, like the others. Even when she accused of witchcraft by the twins and even jokes about it, the label does not stick. She consistently fails to uphold her expected role as the classic adolescent female horror victim.
In the end, it is Thomasin who survives by finally giving into the wild and becoming a witch. The opening scene of her face jailed by camera’s close-up as her father’s voice booms over her is juxtaposed beautifully by the final image her naked body floating in the forest, near the tree tops, with sounds of laughter and chanting. She is free. The young woman survives by rewilding herself, and the film cuts to black.
While some viewers may view this dark ending as simply promoting Satanism or Witchcraft, that is far too simple of a reading. The film works on an allegorical level in various ways, exploring humanity’s extreme and failed attempts to control nature – that of self and that of the world. More specifically, it speaks to a society facing environmental collapse at its own hands and to women attempting to toss off the shackles of the constructed patriarchy in order to embrace true female agency. There is also cautionary tale embedded in the film, one that is not at all new. Nature will win.
However, with all that said, there is one caveat here. To be free and embrace the wild, Thomasin must sign Satan’s book. Modern Witches may find discomfort with the film’s very stereotypical depiction of witchcraft as defined within Christian terms. This point also begs the question of whether Thomasin is actually free at all. Did she leave one patriarchy just to join another?
Regardless, taking the film as a pure allegory and looking at it in terms of the canon of Hollywood witch films, Eggers does make a radical turn. He allows his heroine Thomasin to embrace a radical lifestyle that is contrary to everything she was taught, religiously and socially, and allows her to remain in that space without question. This detail alone is what makes the film unsettling even after the lights go up in the theater. What the characters know and believe as right, becomes wrong and is destroyed. And, what is believed to be wrong is eventually embraced.
The Witch is an interesting exercise in thematic storytelling encapsulated in a beautiful imagery. However, it will disappoint those viewers looking for a more typical modern horror film. While Eggers does use some common horror elements, the film is not scary or frightening in the expected sense. The horror of this film is in the disturbing extremes; not in sensationalized violence or gore. It is in the parents’ desperate attempts to maintain control through faith (e.g., blood letting) as well as in the chaos of the wild world as it takes over (e.g., death of animals). The film moves slowly by modern standards and spends much of its time in contemplation and observance, which ultimately is the position of the protagonist Thomasin.
Filmed in northern Ontario, The Witch earned critical acclaim at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival, and Eggers won the festival’s directing award in the U.S. Dramatic category. The film also won the Sutherland Prize for Best Debut Feature in London. Currently, Eggers is working on a fim called “The Knight: a medieval epic.” And, will be working on a “reimagining of F.W. Murnau’s classic film, Nosferatu.”
The Witch is Eggers’ debut film. It runs for 92 minutes and is now playing widely in cinemas across the country.
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Although I haven’t seen the film yet, I read your review with spoilers anyway. I’m looking forward to seeing it, and adding it to my film collection. It’s good to see a variety of positive reviews, even though the film does not feature the kinds of horror we’re used to seeing in cinemas of late. I also hope the film contributes to conversations about the significance of depictions of the witch beyond the fictional contexts. Thanks for this review, Heather.
Thanks for reading and I look forward your review. I don’t believe that the spoilers contained in my review will affect your ability to fully engage with the film. Plus I didn’t reveal everything.
Somehow, in reading the beginning of your review, the films of Hitchcock jumped into my brain and I’m thinking that Eggers may have taken a page out of Hitchcock’s manual, not so much the horror part, but the way Hitchcock filmed the story. All of his films, I think, were not only beautifully filmed, but made the viewer *think*; there were deeper elements to the film and nowadays, with the exception of certain “art” films, that is something that is lacking.
I saw the film earlier today and loved it. I thought your views were mostly right on. I loved the uneasiness throughout the film and the shattering of the family in their attempt to conquer their little wilderness. I’m wondering what you thought of their explosion from the community and was that more of a plot device or did you feel it was some sort of commentary?
It was certainly a convenient plot device. But it also established an ethical framework around the family, explaining that their Puritanism was far more fanatical than the average Puritan community member’s. However, interestingly, I believe that this theme is partly extrapolation from knowing the history. If my memory is correct, the film’s “community elders” never mention religion at all and only emphasize secular law. If I am right, then another layer is added to the film’s meaning. But without a closer read, I can’t be entirely sure.
there’s no difference between secular and religious law in a community of that sort. You are imposing an anachronistic distinction.
That is true historically and that was my first assumption. But in fiction film, you have to take what is presented by the artist, whether the details are anachronistic or not. So, when I do a second read in the future, I will look more closely at this point.
I have a PhD in literature. I know how fiction works.
An author’s introduction of an anachronism remains an anachronism. But Eggers has stressed that he replicated speech and ideologies of the time as thoroughly as he could.
In this case, it is you and not he who has introduced this anachronism, and it is entirely out of place.
I don’t agree. But I will not argue in a digital forum. Thanks for reading and commenting.
How convenient, in that it saves you from having to defend your position.
I have years of learning at the mentorship of actors, directors and writers, and I believe you are stuck in your academic blinders quite as much as anyone here, Heather or the rest of us, might be stuck in projecting a modern sensibility upon the times and contexts of this particular story.
I ask, without rancor, does your PhD qualify you to know exactly how storytelling works? I don’t claim any such expertise, but I do claim to know how some storytellers go about their craft, and every single one of them has one commitment in common: engaging the active participation of the audience.
Heather offered the most effective rebuttal to your objections: “…you have to take what is presented by the artist…” I see no reason for her to elaborate on it. If you have an objection to the choices of the storyteller, you have two choices yourself: pan the work and move on, or go out and make one you believe is better. The rest of us will judge you accordingly.
“…you have to take what is presented by the artist…”
The author presents a tale from seventeenth-century sources. At that time, there was no difference between religious and secular laws.
I’ve actually gone back and checked the text. Heather is wrong. The author does not present a tale in which community elders emphasize secular law. By Heather’s own rule, she has failed in her reading of this fiction film, for she has failed to stick to what the author presents and has instead projected her own twenty-first century assumptions.
You don’t need a PhD to understand how all that works, but it helps.
Well, I must ask: are we (collectively) stating opinions about a story told via the medium of cinema, or are we analyzing its veracity against source material?
You seem to insist on the latter. What I see here is the former.
I’d also point out the opinion qualifiers. You also insist on denigrating opinions on some personal analysis. Movie reviews are notoriously (and quite reasonably) lacking in that sort of connection.
I emphatically don’t mean to be speaking for Heather here. I will suggest, out of courtesy, that you restrain yourself from demanding commentary time from the managing editor of this service. That would be the simpler reason for her “avoiding” responding to you. More in another post.
Well, Frank, I can’t presume to speak for what you’re doing, but I’m analyzing the film and Heather’s commentary on it via the criterion Heather set forth, which is that we “have to take what is presented by the artist.”
If she had set forth other criteria, I would offer other comments.
And fyi, Franklin: I have “restrained myself from demanding commentary time from the managing editor of this service.” I fully recognize that Heather is under no obligation to reply to anyone. I didn’t say, “Heather, listen up, lady! You have to respond to my comments!” did I, now? I merely noted one consequence of her decision not to respond.
I was reacting to your “how convenient” remark.
Yeah. I could figure that out.
Noting that it’s convenient to refrain from answering is not the same as demanding an answer, though, is it.
Well, you take an aggressive tone in your writing… which I qualify with my opinion that text-only exchanges too often leave much to be desired.
Consider the time you might save by not needing to clarify your tone. Just a thought.
Consider the time you might have saved by actually reading with care.
And then google “tone argument.”
Cinematic adaptations start with choices. I’ve not seen this movie, or read the sources. I’ll offer this example instead:
I’ve read (over several decades) Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings” dozens of times. I watched sometimes with dismay as Peter Jackson’s choices played out on the screen. Jackson departed — in my personal opinion — egregiously from the source. Nonetheless, he crafted a cinematic story of depth, intensity and balance which I admire and enjoy watching again many times.
I would never recommend it as a valid introduction to the author’s work.
Again, dude: you mistake my criticisms of Heather’s crappy review for a criticism of the movie.
Eggers wanted his story to be very true to the period. Let me put it in a way that might be intelligible to you: Eggers made the choice to be very faithful to his source material. Heather’s review fails to acknowledge and account for the artist’s choice.
If you’d said that before… but point taken.
Saw it this weekend. Really good film, a beautiful film in many ways. Good review, I came away with some different impressions, but that just shows that the filmmaker did a good job I think.
“It is in the parents’ desperate attempts to maintain control through faith (e.g., blood letting)”
NO. That was what medical knowledge of the day dictated. It might have been an act of (pseudo) science, but it was no more nor less an act of faith than giving pedialtye to a child with diarrhea is today.
Ever wonder why one of the world’s oldest medical journals is called “The Lancet”? It’s because the lancet was a doctor’s most important tool for most of medical history: it was what he used to open a vein.
Intriguing review. I like how the spoilers weren’t too revealing either – leaving somethings to be left unexpected. I haven’ watched it, but even reading this I found the signing a book of Satan to be odd – and I’m not even a witch, nor even an theist in any way. That kind of witch = satan link remains wearisome. I was hoping with how the review was going that that would change. Otherwise it sounds good.
I also find it interesting how Algonquin is considered Northern Ontario. Having grown up in the Abitibi region I’ve always tended to see anything in the Georgian Bay latitude as central Ontario – especially since the vegetation drastically changes from Boreal Forest to Mixed Deciduous Forest.
https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Lake+Abitibi/@44.7850132,-81.9698009,1108096m/data=!3m1!1e3!4m2!3m1!1s0x4d23c86aec86f4c9:0x8b4fb6d639780b9a
I saw the movie this weekend, and blog about New England folklore, so just a quick comment on the Devil’s book. This was a very common trope in early New England witch narratives (it comes up over and over in the Salem trials, for example) and Eggers was striving for some historical authenticity. The witches in this movie are quite clearly linked to Satan, which again reflects 17th century Puritan orthodoxy. Of course, not everyone held orthodox beliefs even back then…
True, I can appreciate the historical authenticity aspect of that. Guess I’m just tired of that obsession with witches associated with Satan overall. I suppose that is why I have little interest in that part of history – tends toward very black and white societal structure that very much is suffocating.
There’s all kinds of witches. But there’s definitely a growing group in the “traditional witch” genre who DO subscribe to the whole devil thing. (Although “the witches’ devil” might not be seen as the same guy as Christian Satan).
Here is another anachronism in your reading:
“William’s own frustration is expressed by his obsessive need to chop wood, a small symbol of what is consuming his family.”
Perhaps you have heard this Buddhist saying:
“Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.
After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.”
The saying acknowledges this truth: it is necessary to chop an enormous quantity of wood for survival when wood is your only fuel for boiling water, cooking food and heating your living space. William chops wood not out of frustration but because he knows it’s absolutely necessary if his family isn’t going to freeze during the winter.
Your review of is a morass of twenty-first century projections.
So
Watch out for the anachronism gestapo—they’ll obsess about your words in post after post, write down your 21st century crimes in their annals of judgement, and then gleefully burn you at the stake without mercy. Beware and afraid.
Heather herself is the one who insists, “in fiction film, you have to
take what is presented by the artist, whether the details are
anachronistic or not.”
I’m merely pointing out that by her own standards, she fail to approach the film properly. She doesn’t take what is presented by the artist–she projects her own assumptions onto it. Anachronism is one of several means by which she does so.