text: Highly implausible, unbelievable, and incoherent Spanish production about...well, let me see just how close I can get to it. The film opens with a woman having one of her cat's killed by a young girl. She then begs her lover to take her somewhere on his vacation. He calls work and demands that he loses his vacation time and she says he will pay for this. What relevance this plays out to is anybody's guess at the film's end, because the guy, a swarthy photographer, spies a beautiful Patty Shepard, queen of Spanish horror films it seems, taking her bikini top off momentarily so he can snap a picture, ask her out to lunch, and then to his assignment to Witches Mountain - for reasons again we are never privy to. Before they go, Patty must stop by the house and loud, "eerie" chanting echoes in our hero's ears. Again, this is never explained. The film goes on with these two stopping at an inn, going on to the mountain, and finally realizing why the mountain is called Witches Mountain. You know, there are several aspects to this film which make it better than a bad film. It has some atmosphere, some of the character actors are really quite good(especially the deaf innkeeper and the old woman), the leads are at least adequate, and the climax - though it makes absolutely no sense at all - is well-choreographed(literally) with the witches in white brassieres and long black hair. It just doesn't make any sense though, and that is a huge detractor to me. I could watch the film another ten times and still not know more now than I did after the first viewing. That is a major problem. The Witches Mountain is a curious film from the long line of cheap, atmospheric European horror films that blanketed that decade. If you can get more out of it than me, better power to you.