Chilling slow burn horror chamber piece carefully balances psychological and supernatural horror

Rating: 9/10 (13 November 2018)

Set in 1630s New England, a family that's been shunner by their community over a religious dispute is forced to move far into the forest on their own. The film is told from the perspective of the eldest daughter, Anya Taylor-Joy in a standout performance that's also her film debut, one day is watching her baby brother who mysteriously disappears before her very eyes. It's revealed that a witch has stolen the unbaptized child for a blood sacrifice. At that point, the family begins to suspect one another of consorting with the devil and practicing witchcraft, which is where things begin to unravel. First time writer/director Robert Eggers has made something of a minor masterpiece with this slow burn horror film that never quite comes out to explicitly state whether anything supernatural is happening or if it's all in the paranoia imaginations of it's characters. This isn't to say the film isn't scary, because it's scary as hell. Although not a standard jump-scare horror film in manner of "The Conjuring" or "Paranormal Activity," Eggers delights in slowly building tension between characters and peppering it with some truly haunting and chilling imagery. When Taylor-Joy's younger twin siblings befriend a goat named Black Phillip, hold onto your horses! There are few films I would visually compare this too (Dante Tomaselli is possibly the only current horror filmmaker I might compare Eggers visual style of horror). It's shot primary using natural lighting and the camera is largely invisible in that it doesn't draw attention to itself with showy pans or zooms. It's primarily frightening and chilling static images that stick with you, whether it's Black Phillip striding through the forest, a red cloaked raven haired beauty becoming the viewer closer, or some of the more overt horror images I won't spoil here which may or may not be hallucinations or dreams. Eggers has stated the film is based on folktales, fairytales and written accounts of historical witchcraft, including journals, diaries, and court records, with much of the dialogue coming directly from these primary sources, which gives the film a sense of authenticity that's missing from many period films about witchcraft. Witches have long been a horror film staple, but they rarely come off well. "Rosemary's Baby" is likely the best film about witches and like this film, it rode a delicate balance between supernatural and psychological, but no film about witches has better captured the folktale/folklore elements of witchcraft than "The Witch." The silent film "Häxan" may be the only other film I can think of that possibly captures this period feel, but that silent film documentary style was quite different from a narrative form of storytelling. In "The Witch," the imagery of a black goat with a broken horn, all the talk of "signing the book," different animals which may or may not be familiars, talk of a witch's teat, or the plot point around an unbaptized child all feel straight out folklore and effectively tap into primal audience fears. The film also greatly benefits from a truly remarkable score by composer Mark Korven, who creates an unsettling dissonant soundtrack using a minimalist approach. Korven actually built his own original instruments to create some of the frightening and original sounds used for the film's score, which makes the soundtrack to "The Witch" one of my most favorite film scores in years. Overall, "The Witch" is not a standard horror film that will appeal to your average Fangoria gore-hound, but is more of an arthouse horror film for horror fans who appreciate a slow burn horror style of filmmaking that takes its time to build character and tension.