Witches of East End: Season 1

Witches of East End's Season 1 is Too Muddled

by Kristin Battestella

Based upon the novels by Melissa de la Cruz, the late Lifetime series Witches of East End had plenty of magical potential. Unfortunately, this ten episode debut falters in balancing its bewitching tales and romantic plotlines, resulting in perhaps too many growing pains.

Artist Joanna Beauchamp (Julia Ormond) is surprised to see her wildcat sister Wendy (Madchen Amick) after a century apart – for unbeknownst to Joanna's daughters Ingrid (Rachel Boston) and Freya (Jenna Dewan Tatum), they are a family of exiled and cursed witches. The immortal Joanna is doomed to see her daughters continuously born, grow up, and die, and this time she has steered the bookish Ingrid and romantic Freya away from their dangerous magical abilities in hopes of giving them a fuller, longer life. An old enemy, however, is after Joanna, taking on her lookalike form or shifting into other guises as needed to threaten the Beauchamps and interfere with Freya's impending wedding to Dr. Dash Gardiner (Eric Winter). While her future mother-in-law Penelope (Virginia Madsen) is slowly warming to Freya, Dash's wayward brother Killian (Daniel Di Tomasso) makes for a much more steamy adversary to the nuptials.

Glitz, glamour, saucy dreams, and ominous rituals in the garden open Witches of East End, and the “Pilot” moves quickly with fast talking folks and one blink and you miss it spooky incident after another. There's a lot of house history and paranormal exposition shoehorned in the first ten minutes alone – making it tough to appreciate the morphing red flowers, poofing photographs, doppelgangers, pentagrams, and murder afoot. Did I mention the trite love triangle also being introduced? Witches of East End has much to digest, and although based upon its own book series, comparisons between Witches of Eastwick, Charmed, and Practical Magic are understandably apparent due to this initial patchwork and too similar feeling. Fortunately, Victorian flashbacks and glimpses into the twenties anchor past pain and fate coming to catch the titular ladies – unique tales that might have set Witches of East End further apart from those aforementioned comparables had it been set as a period piece. While it's nice to have all age appropriate adults and realistic looking dark haired ladies instead of cliché teen bimbos, the enemy evil is told about more than it is actually seen, strong women are always being attacked by icky men, and attempts to be self aware about such cliches end up playing into that very same old. Witches of East End takes too long to get rolling, superficial threats are too easily resolved, and hello look at that shoddy police work. Thankfully, the intercut spell editing and smaller threats in “Marilyn Fenwick, R.I.P.” tie into the intriguing premise's overall revenge and magical consequences. The sardonic comedy and rules of being a witch remain fun while serious conversations on whether magic is a gift or nothing but problems add drama. Rather than speedy shockers, time is taken with magic training and spell practice in “Today I am a Witch.” More sepia flashbacks and a long list of enemies shape the storylines while magical mistakes, face to face confrontations, and debate on whether these potions and powers should be used for protection and defense or the offensive help Witches of East End get a foot on the right moonlit path.

Fun guest stars, more sinister, and villainous history further up the conflict, surprises, and retribution in “A Few Good Talismen,” and the rules of the realm are established in “Electric Avenue” thanks to ghosts, legal tricks, and courtroom encounters. Witches of East End over relies on fast talking delivery and conveniently mentioned witchcraft information after the fact – we are told about more spells being done that we don't get to see. However, when action actually happens, it is entertaining and weighted with supernatural arguments. Is the witchcraft right and justified in one scenario and wrong in another? Unfortunately, the pretty people making moon eyes in the pool in “Potentia Noctis” detract from the historical nuggets, turn of the century saucy, and spell casting magical brownies. The period apothecary, rival magics, multilevel spells, and mansion tunnels are top notch, again making one wonder why Witches of East End didn't just dance the dance and begin with all this quality past beguine. The zombie resurrections and good girls gone bad consequences in “Unburied” are also hampered by the intercut romantic scenes. Yes, the magical hair pulling torture is kind of hokey, but the deadly high stakes is just a bit more important than love la dee da. New character dynamics and more evil shapeshifter meaty end up uneven or stretched thin because this need for dreamy keeps undercutting the magical ruses, occult research, fantastical dangers, and titular charms in “Snake Eyes.”

Whoa, whoa, spoiler alert! Forget the love triangle soapy, the Beauchamps come from Asgard, can never go home, and more family has been left behind – and all this news is dropped with a mere two episodes left in the First Season. Say what? Knowing this information makes Witches of East End a lot more interesting, even as we again wonder why the series didn't shoot out the gate with this enchanting who, why, and how it effects the present family. Any and all fantastical dalliances could have come through the town portal for our learning to be witches to wrangle each week and we got sweet nothings at the local pub instead? It's great to see the sisters going head to head and banging up the house, too – even if the animated laundry is laughable. “A Parching Imbued” has the supernatural feeling Witches of East End needs with the eponymous gals in white robes on the beach casting spells while the evil shifter interferes directly with counter magic. Doppelgangers walk down the street, powers are lost, and conflicts arise over surprise character twists. Granted again the evil torture chamber looks more like an industrial art museum display, but deaths, harbingers of doom, and threats both mortal and magical disrupt the wedding preparations in the “Oh, What a World!” finale. Why ruin all the Asgard answers, bad omens, and major dramatic developments with too many sappy montages and pop songs? I'm ready for the verbal bitch slaps and magic battles! Although the easy, rushed resolution leaves Witches of East End on a cliffhanger and the San Francisco flashback shows the audience the tavern with magic cocktails we already know, the connection to present truths create some much needed character changes to up the ante for Season Two.

Thanks to the lovely at any age and foxy but poised Julia Ormond (Legends of the Fall), the viewer immediately likes immortal witch and mother Joanna Beauchamp. She's trying to keep her daughters safe due to a horrible curse and that live forever quality doesn't mean that enemies aren't out to test her immortality. Ormond's accent is an odd mix of toned down British and put on American, which may bother some, but it can also be excused thanks to her long lived times – there's certainly some fun Latin and doppelganger mayhem to chew on, too. Despite her continuously telling lies and withholding information, we don't blame Joanna for hiding the witchy ways in order to save this generation. Everything she does is to protect her daughters, to give them normal lives, and help them realize being a witch isn't their be all end all. Witches of East End's uneven focus between the ensemble love and Joanna's ongoing enemy plot wavers too much – sometimes we don't see our star very much from episode to episode. However, the backstory and family revelations late in the season add new spins. Joanna has her own moments of happiness amid the dangerous, and her second love interest should have been recurring all along gosh darn it. It's amazing to see a strong, mature, and classy lady working to keep her family together. Joanna admits she can't deal with her history and magic on her own, and her coming round to magic uses, accepting her past, and embracing her power gives Witches of East End a positive anchor.

It's unfortunate that Rachel Boston's (American Dreams) Ingrid is always siding with Wendy while Freya is most often with Joanna, as these limited pairings inhibit plot variety and keep critical information from all the players – who often behave more like four women in separate events rather than a core family. Unless you read some of the series' apocrypha, the audience doesn't get all the details, such as Ingrid being the older sister. Her level headed skepticism and slightly awkward but honest chemistry is a welcome change of pace early on Witches of East End, however her uber shrew detesting of Meg Ryan and Katherine Heigl movies is too textbook on the nose and used more to differentiate her from her dreamy lovestruck sister than develop her own personality. Ingrid is a realistic student of history and witchcraft that suddenly jumps the gun and writes spells because she's really powerful with a saucy evil past and not just a shy librarian after all. From episode to episode Ingrid is either awed, wide eyed, whoopsie surprised, and scared of her magical mantle or being selfish and stupid with serious life and death spells. It's great to see when her magic gets out of hand with erroneous consequences, but the character is made smart and stupid at the same time and too often caught in over her head whilst we are also repeatedly being told she is the good one. Which is it?

Likewise, Jenna Dewan Tatum's (Step Up) wishy washy romantically confused shtick gets old fast, and I wish I could skip over her 'he's oh so dreamy' scenes. We don't know anything about Freya except how she is torn between two men. Even when she finds out she is a witch, she turns princess and doesn't want to get her hands dirty with spells – only to be angry later when her powers don't work. Why couldn't the love triangle plot be developed later once Freya knows who she is and has accepted her powers? Instead she always needs to be saved by one of her men. Meh. This same old melodrama wastes time Witches of East End doesn't have to spare, and honestly, I would rather have seen only one daughter in a learning to be a witch plot with more focus on the elder sisters. Isn't Freya too old to be this juvenile? She learns of her magic history but would rather talk about boys, and she's a bartender who's good at potions, ba dum tish! I'm not opposed to Gothic love triangles done right in paranormal fantasies. However, I do expect to know something more about an allegedly strong woman – an immortal witch from Asgard no less – before knowing who she's boinking as though the boinking is the most important thing about her. As if!

Thankfully, Madchen Amick (Twin Peaks), is a feline delight for Witches of East End as Joanna's wild sister Wendy. She has nine lives to live and now in her slightly mature age uses her experience to protect her family. Wendy is self aware, sarcastic, and educates her nieces on good magic just as much as she imparts don't be like her reckless wisdom. Of course, that's not to say she doesn't get up to wrong doing spells and danger, but Wendy remains a positive sounding board. Some of her plots do move too fast – they use up her lives quickly and swoop in a love interest, too. However, some of the speedy exposition works when Wendy is dropping witty asides and one line adventures about being widowed, married, divorced again, or eaten by a crocodile. Her knowing how to fix or undo a spell is also a convenient dues ex machina used too many times on Witches of East End, but the sisterly pros and cons are well done with both Wendy or Joanna each being short sighted at times in their magical knowledge or uses. Where Joanna seeks to motherly protect, Wendy would rather empower her nieces. Is one way better than the other or can both styles strengthen the family? Amick is a fun counter balance whose personality doesn't change from week to week – unlike the under utilized Virginia Madsen (Candyman) as Freya's snotty future mother-in-law Penelope. It takes half the season for what we already suspect of Penelope to come to light, making for another missed opportunity that Witches of East End should have indulged from day one.

Dimension also comes too late for Eric Winter (The Ugly Truth) as Freya's fiance Dash. Why couldn't he have been a doctor first and foremost instead of one half of a limp couple? Scenes with science investigation to counter magic end up going nowhere, and time focusing solely on the brotherly rivalry is so slow compared to the rapid witch pacing. We can see man pain anywhere, and Witches of East End could have at least completed the trifecta and had Canadian Italian model Donald Di Tomasso play hockey instead of serving up the same old dark, mysterious, music, and motorcycle Killian brooding. The series continually falls back on this teen wannabe bedroom ho hum, and such glaring plots don't belong on what's supposed to be a sophisticated, women-oriented supernatural show. Fortunately, familiar guests including Matt Frewer (Max Headroom), Joel Gretsch (The 4400), Jason George (Grey's Anatomy), and Freddie Prinze, Jr. (Scooby Doo) add mature, supporting sensibilities to Witches of East End. It is, however, disappointing to see the charming Tom Lenk (Buffy) and Kellee Stewart (My Boys) typically typecast as the gay and black best friends, respectively. Tiya Sircar (The Internship) as Amy also starts with medical intelligence and character strengths, but is ultimately made stupid with Witches of East End once again wasting better, progressive plot opportunities and giving both its interracial and mixed couples ill fates. Tsk tsk. All these independent, confident chicks and ensemble support possibilities, yet it appears the only purpose of Witches of East End's unfocused storytelling is to toss every woman a man. Bechdel test my foot – when we do get all the lady librarians, doctors, immortals, and witches together they still end up talking about men!

Witches of East End has a fitting mood with black cats, bewitching eyes, skeleton keys, Latin curses, and a pink Victorian house that belies the spooky within its quaint. Books, photographs, ominous lighting, small period piece doses, and freaky bathtubs should be used even more for a slow burn atmosphere, yet once again I come back to the faulty execution at work. Witches of East End could have been styled as several television movies or at least had a feature length pilot episode, however the ridiculous playing at double speed opening title card is a lighting bolt blink and bam indicative of how by the pants these 42 minutes or less episodes were steered. The witch effects and magical movements are cheap and quick, as if making them one second longer would cost too much. Trite 'if this were a movie, this would be the part where happens!' dialogue doesn't excuse borrowed ideas – like the trapped in the painting plot lifted from The Witches. Cell phones and modern lingo are intrusive, and unlike The Witches of Eastwick, everything in Witches of East End feels lighthearted, too soft with little edge or dark style. Cursing and some near nudity amid brief 1906 orgies are fine, but such saucy is also an obvious, late in the hour desperate move – and something turn of the century should not be montaged with contemporary pop music! Witches of East End never fully establishes its titular setting, and we know almost nothing about the town's size, how many shops there are, or what the main street layout may be. Are there no nosy neighbors to spy on these backyard spells? Is the Beauchamp name beloved or notorious in the community? Viewers don't find out the town is shrouded on a map and secretly famed for its occult history or hiding a gosh darn gateway to Asgard until it is too late. Good job, everyone!

If you are familiar with other magical material, Witches of East End will be very derivative. Some audiences may like that whimsical comfort, readers of the series especially I imagine, but that unfulfilled basic may be disappointing for others. Undivided viewing attention is needed for this incredibly fast moving design, and a marathon session is a must to both keep up with the fast moving plots or exposition dumping and breeze over the spinning tires romance. The steamy attempts may cater to the Lifetime audience but such trite strays too far into soap opera over the top at the expense of the unique core potential. All that should have happened to start Witches of East End comes in the second half of the season, with numerous writers and directors falling flat over a backward execution – which is surprising since there is a literary source. Though Witches of East End is certainly watchable for paranormal light fans looking for a streaming weekend or ladies growing out of Charmed, the weekly witchy, immortal trials, and magical tribulations feel like they should be bigger somehow – leaving this debut with more than its fair share of flaws muddling the magic.

Witches of East End: Season 2

Mistakes not Rectified in Witches of East End Season 2

by Kristin Battestella

Netflix just kept insisting I continue watching the 2014 second year of Lifetime's Witches of East End. Against my better judgment, I tuned in for the thirteen episode season – which unfortunately doesn't rectify the errors of the series' tepid debut.

Witches of East End opens with a memory loss reset from the end of the first season in “A Moveable Beast” and a jarring trying to be sexy whilst also trying to be dark and dangerous tone. Good or bad histories are dropped to introduce a long lost Beauchamp family member in “The Son Also Rises,” making it tough to take the Asgard war yada yada yada seriously in “The Old Man and the Key.” There are already too many plots at once with fast editing and faster, talking on top of each other conversations, and Witches of East End throws everything at the screen – including twincest – while poor torture scenes and sociopath Asgard enemies in “The Brothers Grimoire” waste time. Pieces of plots can be good, but the quality is mixed with so many hate worthy, hammy teen moments ruining potential developments. While the women look the same in “Boogie Knights,” the men look ridiculous, and this disco flashback is an obvious excuse for Jenna Dewan Tatum to dance. The intercut weekly plots and interwoven season arcs are poorly combined, disregarding what is happening in another time or in someone's head as if all the action were linear acts. Neat magic that would be fun to see is talked about rather than shown in favor of would be scandalous or juicy attempts, but it's tough to care about romance when everyone's allegiances seem to change from week to week just because soap opera styled plots say they should. Repetitive dialogue is often found in the same scene, where more time is spent arguing than doing something, and flak continues to divert the increasingly high stakes or imminent death crises in “When a Mandragora Loves a Woman.” I'm not against romance, but forced steamy retcons from episode to episode as needed illume the hollow threats and empty fodder. Uneven A, B, C structured storylines on Witches of East End counteract each other's trying to be heavy impact. Significant or not, characters disappear in “Art of Darkness” while others said to have been around suddenly appear, and the saucy language and partial nudity of “Sex, Lies, and Birthday Cake” is yawn worthy when once again, more interesting character developments take a backseat to round and round romance.

Kills, family history, and magic discovery are set aside in increasingly poorly shot and directed plots – Witches of East End moves fast to cover the weak acting of the younger cast when even three intercut sex scenes don't help. More absurd sex rituals and unsexy bondage compromise the escalating spells and counter magic in “Smells Like King Spirit.” Action and rivalry fall prey to convenient deaths and a love spell that results in absent anger, grief, and compassion. One or two overall story arcs would have sufficed yet there is little emotion in the thin cliffhangers of “The Fall of the House of Beauchamp.” We know resets and easy fixes are coming thanks to past life excuses and little consequences with music montages undermining what should be heavy moments and voodoo sidetracking unrelated to the Asgard plots. Witches of East End is very poorly paced and tosses an ambiguous FBI agent into this late mix because each episode must outdo itself every week. Fortunately, the 1840 brothel snooping flashback in “Poe Way Out” is good fun. There's still too much exposition and instant happenings amid not just A, B, and C but even D plots – far too much for a forty minute runtime – and another flashback is told within the past time rather than shown on its own. Witches of East End could have had Asgardians hiding in period with agents chasing them through the timelines all season long! I'm glad almost all of the subsequent “Box to the Future” continues the past Poe possibilities, against the clock races, possessions, and lets the spooky séance mood run with the period melodrama. One overall story should have been done all along, and while I admit much of the try hard paranormal romance light isn't my cup of tea, the rampant structural flaws on Witches of East End can't be ignored. Quality elements are squeezed in too late, and obnoxious people, plans, or objects change for good or ill from scene to scene – interrupting any compelling tricks and forward momentum in “For Whom the Spell Tolls.” Off-camera torture, pregnancy bombs, and convenient magic resolve nothing in this Witches of East End finale where there was apparently no consideration of cancellation. Easy resolution, Romeo and Juliet cheats, body swaps, and underworld surprises prove nothing was learned from the first season's ups and downs. Witches of East End backpedaled when its time was running out only to peak with an unresolved ending. Shit. 
 

In this era where there aren't many roles for strong, older women, Witches of East End could have been a great, empowering series for its stars. Unfortunately, the flip flopping script is quite unfair to Julia Ormond as family matriarch Joanna Beauchamp. I totally forgot she was an art teacher, and we don't get to see Joanna do any real magic until near the end of the season – because she must now do the very thing she has been trying to prevent all season and we're supposed to just go with it. Apparently, Joanna was also a wild seventies witch who dabbled in interracial lady love, but rather than being treated as something mature, the lesbian leanings come off as trying to shock alongside character growths that reset each episode. Joanna was an opium hooker and had a femme romance yet all we ever see her do is spout some Latin? Pity. In and of herself, Mädchen Amick as feline sister Wendy is really the only character on Witches of East End about whom I have no complaints. However, Wendy is continually screwed in the romance department, as if her only role in the series is to have one fatal affair after another to prove how much a good woman can withstand man crap. Likewise, Rachel Boston as good librarian turned bad girl daughter Ingrid is continually defined by her male relationships – be it flirting with some otherworldly bestiality, warlocks, or an unplanned pregnancy. She keeps telling everyone she is an expert on witchcraft but is perhaps the most messy of all the ladies with the most magic misuses. Adding to this back and forth wishy washy is the newly through the Asgardian portal brother Christian Cooke (Where the Heart Is) as Frederick Beauchamp. Whether it is a miscasting or bad writing or both I don't care, but Witches of East End never should have added another family member to its already crowded storytelling.

Jenna Dewan Tatum's moon eyed Freya and Daniel Di Tomasso as fighting women off left and right Killian also go one round too many at the romance circus. Grief sex in the back of the bar when the bodies of so-called loved ones aren't even cold? Had they both disappeared in the pointless Santo Domingo storyline, Witches of East End might have been better for it. I never though I would be against so many shirtless guys, but the lack of substance hiding behind the man candy is insulting. There is some potential to Eric Winter's Dash being caught between the euphoria of doing bad magic and its healing power, but the magic versus his doctoring and science falls prey to dumb blackmail schemes and sibling rivalry. Fortunately, James Marsters (Buffy) adds much needed suave as the seemingly nonchalant businessman and evil Asgardian henchman Tarkoff. He's been in pursuit through history and is down with some torture love! Instead of pining for Joanna, Witches of East End could have paired down its characters and plots by having Tarkoff be Wendy's ex, saving time and money while strengthening what is available in house. Rather than ruining another interracial romance and derailing with voodoo stereotypes, fellow Buffy alum Bianca Lawson could have been Tarkoff's fellow antagonist instead of the Fredrick and company drivel. But alas, Marsters is stuck doing same thing every episode with no resolution, and the cliché, sacrificial gay best friend exit given to Tom Lenk is inexcusable. Witches of East End is downright embarrassing when all the gay or ethnic characters are simply there to die! Fine guests such as Ignacio Serricchio (Bones) and Steven Berkoff (Octopussy) go underutilized while a serious love triangle between Joel Gretsch as Joanna's husband Victor and Michelle Hurd (Law and Order: Special Victims Unit) as her past witch love Alex is a story that somehow was deemed unworthy compared to the other derivative, forced, ad nauseam steamy.

In addition to the rushed storytelling, Witches of East End sacrifices any bewitching mood with very poor scene setting CGI, CGI cats, CGI smoke, kinky tentacles, and one forest set for everything. Brief flashbacks to mystical portals and unseen Asgard wars dress our players in hokey Roman goddess Halloween costumes with toy centurion armor for the boys, shining the spotlight on obvious budget cuts. Witches of East End should not have been expanded to thirteen episodes, and padded action scenes try too hard amid dated fashions consisting of nothing but hoochie looks and slutty bra tops assuring the huge boobs show. Although for some that's not the worst of the show's problems, granted, and the magic effects and witchy whooshes do get better by the series' end. Perhaps viewers angry at what could have been will have a tough time appreciating the camp value here, for Lifetime feels just a little too late on the horror light bandwagon. Rather than being a show by and for women, Witches of East End plays into too many chick needing a man same old with standard weekly television flaws and phoned in copycat paranormal. There are other more fun, less marred spooky shows available, and while completists or fans of the cast can marathon Witches of East End, it's lacking in fillin the so-called hot, supposedly next big thing witch niche.

Hollywood Horrors and Documentaries

 

Hollywood Horrors and Documentaries

by Kristin Battestella

This trio of twenty-first century documentaries looks back on our intertwined literary horrors, Hollywood hits, and witchy history.

The Strange Life of Dr. Frankenstein – Classic film clips on life, death, and horror open this 2018 documentary hour on the eponymous novel before the narration goes back to 1816 for Mary Shelley origins and Geneva tales. Portraits and early film footage accent the scholars recounting how Shelley's Wollstonecraft background and anti-patriarchy stance shaped her literary monster – breaking down the titular history into themed chapters on man and automatons. Subsequent Percy Bysshe Shelley artistic influence, emerging medical science, and real life surgeons inspiring Mary are showcased via novel excerpts on grave robbing, electricity, and unnatural ways to create and create life from death. Brief highlights from the 1931 Frankenstein and TheBride of Frankenstein examine the monster's mate, sexual fears, and how Boris Karloff's made up, growling, green abomination seeped into the cultural lexicon yet differs from the novel's monstrous veneer versus orphaned sadness. Our doctor's obsessions succeed and exceed, and his mad scientist is not so dissimilar from today's science fiction becoming fact. The final segment looks at the Frankenstein legacy and how it's parables appeal to the masses – even those who've never read the book. We've still not learned about outdoing our creator thanks to atom bombs and today's technological replacements instilling the same fears that inspired Mary Shelley. This is a French production with some historians translated, and the B roll horror and nudity mean this might not be for the younger classroom. However, this is a pleasing summation and analysis focusing on the novel rather than the film adaptions for older newcomers and longtime fans.

Who Done It: The Clue Documentary – Vintage trailers open this fond 2022 retrospective on the 1985 comedy Clue amid raw interview footage of director Jonathan Lynn's (My Cousin Vinny) recounting the initial executive meetings and their laughter at the thought of making a board game into a movie. Experts and Clue connoisseurs praise producer Debra Hill's (Halloween) impact in making the film possible despite script troubles, numerous writers, how to frame the whodunit, difficulties over who gets the story credit, and famous names falling through during casting such as Carrie Fisher. Backgrounds on the ensemble anchor natural, humorous recollections with Colleen Camp, Michael McKean, Leslie Ann Warren, Lee Ving, and archive clips with Tim Curry and Christopher Lloyd. Analyzing the artwork, design, costumes, and score leads to reflections on the soft box office and confusion over the three endings before video sales renewed Clue's camp legacy. Our filmmaker Jeff C. Smith (Stupid Teenagers Must Die!) also appears upon going to an auction to purchase the original matte paintings from film. At over one hundred minutes, this is a little long with our documentarian talking to the camera while driving his car throughout the narrative – intruding on a flow that is otherwise unbiased rather than personal. The finale also meanders with rambling fan moments when such tattoos and Clue themed proposals should have opened the tribute. Fortunately, overall this is a lighthearted look perfect for fans of the beloved comedy.

The Witches of Hollywood – Authors and experts discuss the history of Hollywood witches in this hour long 2020 retrospective. Shakespearean witches, Malleus Maleficarum sources, and infamous trials with mostly female victims accused of being in bed with Satan predate western society's fear of femininity yet laid the groundwork for the brooms and pointy hats. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs introduces audiences to the femme fatale's alluring power while The Wizard of Oz provides green stereotypes of bad crones versus pretty, good witches. I Married a Witch offers love spells and the happy housewife during World War II before the chic Bell, Book & Candle wants to give up the magic to be a normal girl. Bewitched lampoons the loss of powers to achieve the domestic American dream alongside The Feminine Mystique, birth control, and the rise of women's liberation. The end of Hollywood Production code leads to an increase of film nudity, sexuality, blood, fear, and the occult as foreign films like Black Sunday come to the masses grappling with menstruation and Carrie. Although the counterculture embraced the realistic witchcraft scenes in Season of the Witch, the male horror of not being needed by the woman acerbates the subsequent Reagan era and the Moral Majority. Satanic Panic perceives New Age practices as in league with satanism, yet The Witches of Eastwick owns the girl power stereotypes and religious commentary. Positive coming of age in The Craft embraces autonomy and addresses racism compared to the often subservient Anglo depictions, and the witch becomes intelligent and capable on television with Sabrina, Charmed, and Buffy. The Witch and American Horror Story: Coven begat new diversity and magical evolution from shamed to unabashed amid ongoing movements in today's turbulent political climate. This is a well done, insightful piece providing a succinct parallel between culture and historical changes and the representations of the witch onscreen.

Retro Bonus

Ancient Mysteries: Witches – This fourth season episode of the 1990s A&E series hosted by Leonard Nimoy is obscure if you don't have it on video. However the old fashioned lack of winks, reenactments, and hyperbole permeating today's documentaries lends a straightforward, time capsule appeal. Experts recount benign goddess worship from Scandinavia to the Middle East before pagan suppression and medieval torture thanks to preposterous but rampant theories about flying witches and sexual sabbaths with the devil. Separating the ancient misnomers, witch trial persecutions, and Salem infamy fact from fiction gives way to fading supernatural fears, cyclical do no harm philosophies, and contemporary Wiccan practices. Despite its elusiveness, this is a well rounded and informative analysis for any age.

Ho-Hum Horror Shows

Ho-Hum Horror Shows

by Kristin Battestella

These short and seemingly short lived series go from could have been good and split decision seasons to just plain...stinky. Sorry!

Had Potential

The Covington Witches – These two 2019 episodes combine for over an hour and a half of funerals, candles, rituals, witches, and tarot in an African American infused Philadelphia ripe for a horror tale. Clearly this is a shoestring production with a forgivable low budget, uneven sound, okay lighting, and some amateur performances. However, the extremely tight camerawork not just cuts the proverbial corners but crops out half the picture – heads are cut off and viewers are left looking at a wall while people talk outside the frame. Unnecessary editing and location notations for every scene contribute to the cluttered feeling, and the barren design somehow feels crowded, interfering with the naturalistic conversations about wrangling in reluctant family members with magic warnings. Ominous music adds to the natural banter – which is nice when we can see both people in the uninterrupted frame properly as more relatives end up dead thanks to mysterious boxes, tea readings, and suspect fires. Mourners dressed in black, cemetery scenes, and wide outdoor shots create much needed scene setting breathers alongside intriguing homemade voodoo dolls, teaching spells, incense, and goddess prayers. Purification charms and chants escalate as nieces ask if they are dark witches or do magic for light but aren't afraid either way. The ladies are getting nasty with the evil spells, so why can't the elder family just tell the ones who don't know about all the witchcraft? Real estate runarounds and binding spells end up going too far with some penis removal magic, and that's certainly more interesting than the going to this house, then visiting that house, asking for coffee, and then leaving before the beverage is made. Why certain children don't know they are witches and why one distant niece comes into wealth and property isn't fully explained, and the pace is slow with redundant, roundabout scenes creating confusion. Are we missing an important piece of the puzzle or just left to wonder if a cryptic scene serves any purpose? Phone calls with nothing but “What does it all mean?” and “I don't know” waste time before men who don't know what they're in for meet an abrupt end and leave us wanting the rest of the story. This is based on a self published book series, and there isn't a lot of information about whether this show is intended as an in house web series, one supersized book trailer, or a pilot to shop for something bigger – which it had the potential to be.

A Split Decision

Slasher: Season 3 – This 2019 eight episode anthology subtitled Solstice breaks down into a real time murder mystery with neon raves, risque romps, and back alley stabbings. Unloving neighbors won't open the door to help but social media obsessed onlookers video the crime scene – desperate for a like, share, or viral fame a la a modern Rear Window. High schoolers and cafe hipsters mingle where they shouldn't while Muslims, lesbians, hidden homosexuals, and multi-ethnic families live side by side with bigots, racists, and abusers. Hate crimes, homophobia, and mob mentalities lead to lingering pain, personal drama, and love triangles. Who's listening to the banging against the wall or scrolling on for the next guy while in still in bed with the last one? Opportunists of all sexual connections, jerky husbands, and down low secrets aren't fair to anybody and escalate to viral bullying, hate mongering, and threats. Is it karma when those who warned to reap what you sow get what they deserve? Forensic details, mature conversations, and police theories counter everyone playing the victim while lifestyle bloggers claim blackmail recordings are today's journalism. Tacky green wallpaper, pink mood lighting, and dark red blood anchor the downtrodden apartment complex, but excessive angles, visual distortions, warped sounds, and shaky cams detract rather than add scares. Acid in the toilet drownings are better filmed with subtle blurry as the disturbing violence increases with personal dissections and no empathy. Although each episode focuses on one neighbor's perspective, there are a lot of people coming and going amid the red herrings and school pranksters, and it's tough to care about so many nasty, easily forgotten people. Why are only one pair of detectives on this if three people are dead, two are missing, and two more have been attacked all in the same complex connected to a previous murder? We meet people for them to die, which, while not unexpected, isn't fulfilling either. Great strides with asexual topics happen too late, taking a backseat to numbing snuff entertainment and desensitizing violent media. Bathtub suicide attempts and drilling into skulls are just gore, and disappointingly, the killer is called 'Druid' because of the solstice date – there are no cult or ritual aspects. I pegged the murderer by the third episode, as it's obvious the deaths and clean ups are too elaborate for the onscreen hours, and everything sags in the middle once the police are made dumb. Though better than the Terrible Year Two, this goes on too long with torture porn delays and dream fake outs when it should have been a four part limited event. People wonder if they are cursed because death and consequences follow them, but the character drama and introspective taut are dropped for excessive splatter, slow motion rage, and body parts in the boiler room. Killer close calls suddenly happen to create suspense, and neighbors come together too late thanks to contrivances as the unraveling second half runs out of steam.

Skip It

Age of the Living Dead – This obscure six part 2018 UK/Prime series has a great premise with West Coast humans and East Coast vampires battling it out in a quarantined America. News bulletins and emergency notifications introduce the violence, but abandoned, post-apocalyptic buildings – not to mention the title – immediately suggest zombies rather than vampires. Beyond families fleeing flashbacks used for man pain introductions, we don't see how this division came to be when it would be fascinating to see America struggle in the wake of disaster for ten years without foreign goods or assistance. People train to fight vampires in New Mexico, a lady president has a cool L.A. compound, and pretentious New York vampires wax on mediocrity as they explain how they're tired of policing themselves in exchange for human blood donations. Stilted dialogue compounds the vampire sex or bathing in blood as bright human scenes and purple night time tints make sure we know who is the vampire daughter and rebel human son. It's obvious the writers are unfamiliar with U.S. geography as staff meetings debate nuking everything east of the Mississippi and vampires bemoan the Tupperware blood in favor of taking over the globe. For ten years they had an agreement, so why is all this talk happening now? Why didn't the vampire virus spread? How did the rest of the world contain the nation? Instead of telling us how the premise came to be, laughable performances, hollow music montages, and trite romance contribute to the cliché vampires named Victor. Bad editing can't compensate for the jarring onscreen pace – hectic in your face people and painfully slow vampires – and obnoxious evil glares do little amid leukemia angst and unnecessary traitors. Union Jack flags and Big Ben signify London is calling as the British claim one thing and do another, tossing another wrench at the screen when a U.K. not U.S. setting would have eliminated the awkward locations and bad accents. Angry generals make redundant end of the world claims, but even after skipping the middle episodes, it's still just hot air. These vampires have kids, develop a synthetic blood substitute, and say they've been waiting to be out in the open for centuries yet shootouts, grandstanding speeches, and overhead shots of every locale are more important. The British meddling stateside doesn't get far – although the wife thought dead now turned into a vampire makes our star crossed lovers...undead step siblings? There isn't much horror nor all that much science fiction as vampire councils have board meetings and debating people finally take action over melodramatic villains and vampire boy loves human girl switch-a-roos. Mentions of six hundred years of vampire history fall to the wayside for a “Who's on First?” cure, and ultimately it's all a waste of time. If humans are donating blood to vampires, why not put the cure in the food supply? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Ugly Truth

The Ugly Truth Not All Bad, but Too Dang Tidy and Safe

By Kristin Battestella

I keep swearing I won’t watch another Gerard Butler romantic comedy – heck, how many are there? The Ugly Truth, however, actually isn’t that bad thanks to some fun scenes, innuendo, and chemistry amid the cast. Unfortunately, this 2009 romp falls prey to its own predictability, short sightedness, and every pretty expectation of the romantic comedy genre.

TV producer Abby Richter (Katherine Heigl) reluctantly accepts crass guest reporter Mike Chadway (Butler) as part of her morning news program. Mike’s ‘The Ugly Truth’ segment soon becomes a hit in the ratings, pleasing Abby’s network bosses while her personal life and controlling checklist dates go awry. Mike vows that the relationship advice and man tips from his show are the exact thing Abby needs in order to land handsome doctor and new next door neighbor Colin (Eric Winter). Her transformation from prudish to knock out, however, soon affects Mike just as much as the ensnared Colin.

Like Pygmalion or My Fair Lady and The Taming of the Shrew before it, The Ugly Truth presents every rom com cliché while the audience waits for the inevitable from director Robert Luketic (Legally Blonde), new writer Nicole Eastman, and producers and co-writers Karen McCullah and Kirsten Smith (Ella Enchanted, The House Bunny). As if these people would not end up together after he does her up pretty for someone else and of course, they fall in love during the process instead. For a supposedly mature comedy targeted toward today’s intelligent audiences, the too sweet plot here doesn’t go far enough. Dirty word drops go through the motions, and considering a title like this, there isn’t enough vulgar or hard sexual content. The Ugly Truth comes off as pretty tame with no nudity or pushing the envelope – tumblr is more in the gutter than Mike’s show within a show! Nothing here is shocking – which hampers a lot of the laugh out loud possibilities – and again, real news programs and daytime talk shows offer more scandalous material these days. The potential is here to take the battle of the sexes to the next level, but The Ugly Truth goes backward by adhering to the romantic nineties movies ideal page for page. Nothing new comes in the expected, tried and true public revelation finale here. Once the high school dance, then the college competition, Someone Like You already gave adults the televised confession before The Ugly Truth. The heart symbols on the posters akin to today’s “it’s complicated” and “in a relationship” social media clicks, but The Ugly Truth would have been better had it abandoned the predictable comedy formulas for a sardonic, serious look on screwed up relationships in the 21^st century workplace.

Mike flirts with Abby from the start, smacking her ass, drinking from her glass. He admits he thinks of her sexually and tells her that she is a very attractive, but inaccessible woman. He’s distracted by her activities, says they make a great team, and gets aroused by her “teaching the teacher” touch. Everything he tells her about how to get Colin is surely the way to get him, too – he knows it is working on Colin because he himself likes her. Mike is upset at the thought of her Lake Tahoe weekend plans, he initiates the dance with Abby, and I could go on with yet more examples that she was too stupid to see. He buys her vibrating panties, for goodness sake; The Ugly Truth is not the mysterious relationship ninety minute rocket science it makes itself out to be. Abby hasn’t seen enough rom coms apparently, and the men versus women honesty here is marred by this pulling pigtails and wasting time. Why change her for another guy before revealing your own matching nature to who she originally was? Do people actually do this instead of just asking someone out or getting to know them warts and all? Mike is supposed to be oafish and seemingly beneath Abby, but the naughty messages on his phone, gawking female co-workers, and one hard up sales lady certainly find him appealing. It’s totally apparent that Mike is simply an unqualified guy who’s been burned. This is even suggested three times in The Ugly Truth before anyone realizes it – affirmation coming from an on-TV burn, of course – but by that point, the movie is almost over and a kiss is supposed to make everything all better.

“They want to be actresses, who am I to kill their dreams? … I only slept with the one who can read.” Gerard Butler has admitted Mike Chadway is the role most like himself, and that is kind of how he plays the part. Though he seems puffy or bloated in some scenes and there’s apparently a concerted effort to not have him shirtless – except when he’s covered with Jello – Butler does not look bad here. Maybe he’s not as uber unrealistically buff as in 300, but he’s not flabby as paparazzi photos from the time would suggest, and this normal, natural build, dark hair, and hint of scruff is everyman refreshing. His bad American accent, however, stinks in comparison to his natural Scottish brogue. Butler’s charm, personality, and naughty delivery can be down right fetching, and he has some great off the cuff zingers such as “Why am I a manwhore?” and after licking said Jello off a girl’s finger, “I can still taste you…you know what I mean!” However, this relaxed wit and timing is thanks to Butler’s charisma and not the stunted script that leaves him with a few failed deadpan jokes. Mike’s sentimental but undercooked family angles are also never given any special dimension beyond plot contrivances and the obligatory awww moments in relation to the romance – an obvious infatuation that dumbs down everyone in The Ugly Truth.

Abby is a control freak, sure, but what’s so wrong with her as is? Can’t she be a strong, powerful, confident, at work woman without changing any of that to land a man? Hair extensions and a good bra are all you need – that’s not a very positive message. We may poke fun or archetype this perception of all business ice queen prude, but Abby’s misrepresenting herself to Colin instead of being upfront is no better. Viewers only learn the cliché checklist basics about Abby so we can bare minimum relate to the drastic change in what she will do for a guy. Are we supposed to like her as herself or as the girl she’s pretending to be? The audience has no chance to see the female spectrum and intriguing complexities between the nun or slut extremes – this “librarian and the stripper” Ginger or Maryann duality is too broadly defined against all this compromising for a man she is isn’t so sure she really wants. Despite her Grey’s Anatomy success, I still think in some ways Katherine Heigl is just repeating her debut in My Father the Hero over and over again. Unfortunately, her best moments are somewhat spoiled in the trailer, and the physical comedy also feels forced. Although that goofy slapstick might have been an unnecessarily intentional attempt to make Heigl more awkward than she really is, the irony is that Abby might have been better off with Colin had Mike not interfered with these elaborate antics. Her making his advice go awry is played for the laughs too many times – the kiss cam at the baseball game, her orgasmic dinner thanks to the vibrating panties.  These segments can be amusing or cause a chuckle, but the standard embarrassment leading to love measures are not new and again, today masturbation and sexual topics are dealt with far more frankly. The Mike and Abby dance scene is sexy for fans of the stars, but can the viewer enjoy that they’ve finally caught on to what we’ve been watching all along? Eric Winter (Witches of East End) as Colin is very pretty to look at, too, but he serves as an undeveloped stock fifth wheel who is also somehow the only person other than Abby who remains unaware of what’s happening. Colin wraps a sprained ankle and answers the phone in a white lab coat just to show he is a surgeon – therefore he needs no further development than actually being a prick once said lab coat comes off in the end. The Ugly Truth takes another step back by objectifying its characters instead of treating them as the intelligent people they are supposed to be.

In fact, the supporting players in The Ugly Truth make for much more interesting possibilities than the standard clichés presented. John Michael Higgins (Ally McBeal) as Larry and Cheryl Hines (Curb Your Enthusiasm) as Georgia are rocky husband and wife anchors with excellent wit and banter. They are angry and loving as the film progresses – perhaps showing the pros and cons of Mike’s ‘Ugly Truth’ tests better than Abby’s transformation – and their workplace tug and pull is sassy and unique. Sadly, their quips don’t receive enough attention because of course that would deviate from the run of the mill rom com form. The Ugly Truth could have been an enjoyable ensemble piece with several grown-up, real world relationship dynamics that just happen to hit the fan at a wacky TV station. Instead, great one-liners from the secondary players are tossed in so fast that the audience has no chance to chuckle. We have to get back to the Pygmalion rather than let characters such as Bree Turner’s (Grimm) Joy fully blossom. Abby’s best friend has to happily remain in her place as the lonely assistant who lives vicariously through her. If Abby was such a bad case, what does that say about Joy? Are we supposed to believe she is content in this inferior position when she seems to be just as confident in her job – if not more – and romantically available? She sees both Abby and Mike’s flaws, their chemistry, and knows what to do about it and anything that goes wrong during the entire film yet receives no recognition in The Ugly Truth. Maybe it’s asking too much for the quote Jello twins (I’m not even sure who they are in the credits because I can’t recall if they are actually named onscreen!) to be developed characters, but their saint or sinner perspectives, slutty humor, or misunderstood dorkable could have embodied some interesting repartee. Cranky boss Nick Searcy (From the Earth to the Moon) is always fearful of bad ratings, but we never get a sense of the humor in his hopelessness or the incompetence of fellow news crew such as Yvette Nicole Brown (Community) because they only appear in a few early scenes before sadly disappearing all together. But hey, Craigy Fergy and The Late Late Show make a penultimate appearance!

The Ugly Truth is also showing its age thanks to now dated technology, big televisions, answering machines, old flip phones, and barely visible text messages beneath the Sprint product placement banners. Sprint? Sprint? Of the moment, in your face pop music also overshadows some scenes and makes excuses for long transitions and montages. The fashions are somewhat generic, but it bugs me greatly that you can see those hummin’ black undies underneath Abby’s white dress! Why didn’t anyone have the foresight to change the color of one or the other? Like that remote would be so big and obvious either. The Sacramento locales and setting are different and pleasant, but it’s still typical California suave and sunshine accented with big city moments. Perhaps somewhere more fictional or small town anonymous might have added flavor or quirky to the form. Ironically, the off the cuff bloopers from The Ugly Truth seem more genuine and funny with natural quotes and catchy Freudian slips. One can’t watch those video outtakes or deleted scenes on television airings of The Ugly Truth, of course, and too many nonsensical edits, language cuts, and excised innuendo on TV further create a bland, going through the motions narrative. If you watch, definitely stick with an unedited edition – although this isn’t a hard R and is probably safe for wise teenagers today.  

Because it is comprised of such repeat cliché fodder, The Ugly Truth is certainly watchable, even rewatchabe for romance fans aware of the film’s routine expectations. Fans of the cast can enjoy their charm even if the joy of the ensemble is largely wasted potential trapped in the same old, same old. The Ugly Truth simply doesn’t have the broad reaching, massive audience, mature sex comedy appeal for which it might have hoped, but it isn’t all bad when figuring in the players’ charms against the rom com formula. Viewers have to accept The Ugly Truth for what it is rather than what it could have been and take the fun where you can get it. Otherwise, you’ll be pulling out those hair extensions!

Top Ten: Witches!

Welcome to our new Top Tens series in celebration of I Think, Therefore I Review's Tenth Anniversary! These monthly lists will highlight special themes and topics from our extensive archive of reviews.

This time I Think, Therefore I Review presents in chronological order...

Our Top Ten Witches!

I Married a Witch

Bell, Book, and Candle

The Witch's Mirror

Burn, Witch, Burn

The Witches (1966)

Teen Witch

The Craft

Hex Seasons 1 and 2

Witches of East End

The Witch

Please see our Horror page or our Witches tag for yet magical analysis!

I Think, Therefore I Review began as the blog home for previously published reviews and reprinted critiques by horror author Kristin Battestella. Naturally older articles linked here may be out of date and codes or formatting may be broken. Please excuse any errors and remember our Top Tens will generally only include films, shows, books, or music previously reviewed at I Think, Therefore I Review.