"Impressive also is the restraint: the slow-burn pace, chilling use of silence, foreboding ambiguity and lack of cheap jump-scares..."
Horror is an often misunderstood, marginalised genre. However, every few years a unique, captivating horror emerges, like writer-director Robert Eggers' film, The Witch.
Set in 1630 New England, the film finds an excommunicated family living in isolation near a gloomy forest, when ominous happenings suddenly occur and their baby boy vanishes. Soon fear and doubt surrounds the eldest daughter, Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy) who's suspected of witchcraft.
In an extraordinary debut, Eggers infuses his fascination for New England folk tales into a unique, disturbing film. There is immense care/detail in bringing the period alive, with fantastic set/costume design and dialogue, which is bewildering due to dense language and accents (something repeat viewings may remedy). From the first frame, Eggers also creates an atmosphere of immeasurable dread, with haunting score/sound design and bleak cinematography. Impressive also is the restraint: the slow-burn pace, chilling use of silence, foreboding ambiguity and lack of cheap jump-scares — only pure, unsettling horror. Like other great horrors, it's layered with solid themes like religion, sexuality and adolescence.
Its small mostly unknown cast is an asset. Each member is strong, from the impressively expressive parents — Game Of Thrones alumni Ralph Ineson and Kate Dickie — to the astounding children. Taylor-Joy leads them with a great understated complexity.
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Overall, The Witch is unnerving horror needing to be seen, and will linger long after viewing.