@ Filmhouse, Edinburgh, on Sun 19 Jun; and
@ Cineworld, Edinburgh, on Mon 20 Jun 2016
(As part of Edinburgh International Film Festival)
Anna Biller/ USA/ 2016/ 120 mins
Before the screening, The Love Witch was introduced as a film like nothing else being made at the moment. For once, such hyperbole is justified. For all there has been a been a bit of a retro revival in horror, this has been down to the revamping of the old synth scores of prime John Carpenter, like It Follows, or a return to a good old-fashioned drip-feed chiller like the extraordinary The Witch.
The Love Witch is drowning in the look and sounds of 60’s Hammer, the Euro sexploitation of Jess Franco and Jean Rollin, and dreamy Czech psychedelia like Valerie and Her Week of Wonders. Lovingly crafted by the incredible polymathic Anna Biller (writer/ director/ editor/ set and costume designer/ composer), you can almost choke on patchouli and hash smoke. It looks absolutely amazing.
Elaine (Samantha Robinson) is a sultry, willowy beauty who is also a witch. Moving into a gorgeous Victorian town house decorated in the most delicious occult kitsch, somewhere in small-town California, she sets about reconnecting with her old coven and seducing every man she meets. This would not be a problem one assumes, looking like every raven-haired Giallo scream queen rolled into one, but Elaine wants to use her sex magic in the pursuit of true love, and she can never get the dosage of her potions quite right. On the contrary, she makes them fatally potent.
Through a mixture of deliberate strained dialogue and stilted dialogue, voiceover and high-camp erotic shenanigans we slowly discover that Elaine is not only a sociopathic narcissist, but also genuinely broken.
Biller’s approach and visuals (particularly in the lavish 35mm in which this was screened), are so lush, rich and heady that it feels you’re watching it through an opiated haze. It’s a soupy, narcotic brew that demands the utmost surrender to get the most out of it.
The Love Witch is much more than a pastiche and genre homage though. Biller subverts sexploitation tropes into a devilishly clever and subtle feminist comment on the performative nature of sexuality and gender; not only that of females, but also the typical roles assumed by men. This is most notable in the case of Elaine’s main fixation, detective Griff. He wears his machismo like a shield, reluctant to allow his emotions, which he sees as feminine, to be let loose. It’s her frustration with getting these men to love her unconditionally that has ultimately driven Elaine mad. In its mischievous examination of sexual politics, it’s way more progressive than something like the dismal Danish Girl, but won’t get a fraction of the attention.
The very extravagance of The Love Witch is its own weakness. The plot itself is slight, and Elaine is no master criminal – ludicrously inept in fact – and the story sags under the opulence until a gleefully melodramatic finale. However, it has dedication, intelligence and a wicked sense of fun to die for. A perfect festival film.
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