Witches and Bayous, Oh My!
By
Kristin Battestella
This
trio of somewhat obscure retro pictures has the spooky mood,
atmospheric locales, and bemusing magic needed for a little late
night enchantment.
Mark of the Witch – A
noose, mud, frock coats, and ye olde speaketh set the scene for this
1970 tale of 300 year old witches and revenge on a Texas college
campus, oh yes. Certainly there are bemusing production values –
false eyelashes on the witch, modern dental work seen in her over
exaggerated delivery, more bad acting, and super windblown curses
amid lengthy filler credits, off key folk tunes, uneven sound, and
cutting corners close camera work that's just too up close.
Fortunately, more natural conversations are casual fun alongside
occult books, superstition and psychology studies, and 'spook
seminars' recounting how those who exorcised and persecuted witches
ended up suffering horribly themselves. Not to mention there's a
professor descended of those originally cursed who knows more than
he's saying. Colorful fashions, pigtails, and cigarettes add
nostalgia as far out dudes play the sitar and ask hip chicks about
their zodiac signs. Palm readings and Ouija boards lead to messing
with a black magic tome and laughing at spells with belladonna and
bat's wings. They can substitute some dried rosemary for the fresh
sprig in the recipe, right? Invocations, witch's runes, candles, and
wine goblets create an eerie ritual mood along with storms,
possessions, and high priestess warnings. Things get slow when the
embodied witch learns about our world – the telephone and coffee
percolator are explained before campus tours and unnecessary music
montages. And look at those classic station wagon ambulances! The men
argue about ordering more books so they can learn how to excise the
witch's spirit from the coed, but she's getting down with the fiery
spells, demon summonings, and luring boys to the grove at midnight
for some satanic saucy. Again, some action is laughable thanks to
bizarre, poorly edited make out scenes and a certain tame to the
potions, pompous explanations, repetitive rites, and psychedelic
light show driving out of the evil spirit. There isn't a whole lot to
the actual revenge, yet eerie sound effects keep the cackling,
daggers, and automatic writing interesting. This could have been
totally terrible but the good premise doesn't go far enough, either.
Though neither stellar nor scary, this is both bemusing and creepy
for a late night viewing if you can take the bad with the good.
Necromancy
–
Orson Welles (Chimes at Midnight)
and Pamela Franklin (Satan's School for Girls)
star in this 1972 oddity also later known as The
Witching
with varying editing and runtimes. Hospital room scares and dead baby
traumas restart the tale several times when an unsettled bedroom says
everything needed before the husband's job transfer to an isolated
town called Lilith. His new boss is occult obsessed and insists his
dead son is only resting, but our wife doesn't believe in life for a
life rituals reviving the dead. The town name, however, gives her the
creeps – as does talk of her having potential gifts thanks to being
born with a veil. Although the outdoor filming is super bright, retro
phones and a packed station wagon add to the desert drives, dangerous
curves, and explosive accidents. A doll from the wreckage has
fingernail clippings in its pocket O_o and the sense of bizarre
increases with nearby funerals, dead children in coffins, burning at
the stake flashes, disappearances, and tombstones. Older, castle-like
décor – trophy heads, demonic imagery, magic tomes – pepper the
spooky Victorian homes alongside women both seventies carefree yet
medieval inspired with old fashioned names. There are however no
children in town, pregnant women have to leave, and our couple moves
into the same place as the recently, mysteriously departed. These
devil worshiping townsfolk in white robes prefer hiding in the past
with time stopped and have no interest in the present thanks to
goblets filled with bitter red liquid, astrology, ESP, and tarot.
It's awkward when you invite someone new to a party and ask them to
join your coven! Mismatched fade ins, crosscuts, zooms, and askew
angles accent the hazy rituals, devilish lovers, and brief nudity.
However, such editing both adds to the eerie and allows for more
weird while making it look like creepy, lecherous, self-proclaimed
magician Welles filmed his asides separately. He's upfront about the
occult, terrifying yet luring the Mrs. as the messy visions, wolves,
and injuries increase. Freaky basements, rats, seduction, voodoo
dolls, dead bodies, bats – is what she's seeing real? Have any of
these encounters actually happened? Despite shades of The
Wicker Man foreshadowing,
it
takes a bit too long
to get a clue even as the poison mushrooms, skeletons, and rituals
gone wrong become more bizarre. Fortunately, there are some fun
twists to keep the somewhat obvious and slightly nonsensical warped
entertaining.
The Witchmaker – The
picture may be a little flat for this 1969 slow burn also called The
Legend of Witch Hollow, but
vintage swamp scenery, moody moss, weeping willows, shallow boats,
and Louisiana cemeteries set off the bayou
murders. Mellow music and swimming babes in white lingerie begat
violent kills with ritual symbols, dripping blood, binding ropes,
upside down hangings, and slit throats. The disturbing is done with
very little, but eight women have been killed in last two years, thus
intriguing a parapsychologist investigator and his team of
sensitives, psychic students, and skeptical magazine writers. It's
$21 for their three boat trips, supplies, and six people renting the
no phone cabin for five days – I'll take it! Old townsfolk fear the
culprits are immortal witches who need blood to stay young and warn
the guests of snakes, quicksand, and gator-filled marshes. Early
electrical equipment, radios, and technical talk on waves and
magnetic fields balance the somewhat dry acting and thin dialogue as
more bikini clad psychic women rub on the sunscreen while our ominous
warlock watches. Although the nudity is relatively discreet with the
skimpy suggestion doing more, the maniacal laughter and slow motion
running while clutching the boobies is a bit
hokey.
Thankfully, lanterns,
hidden rooms beneath the floor, underground tunnels, and satanic
rituals sell the macabre. Crones with gross teeth and dominant spells
must recruit these psychics to the coven for invigorating body and
soul trades as the scientific talk gives way to candles, seances,
chanting, and fog. Green lighting, red sheer dresses, and skimpy blue
nighties are colorful spots among ominous witnessing, creepy statues,
torches, and demonic altars. The investigating team buries victims
amid out of control powers, hypnosis, and screams while the witches
enjoy a little necking, decoy dames, knives, and fiery brandings.
Granted, the male investigators are limp leads, just the facts
fifties cops out of place compared to the ladies feeling more of the
sixties Hammer lite. A third woman does nothing before being used as
bait in the men's plan which goes awry of course. The raising of the
coven is more entertaining – all kinds witches, warlocks, cool
cats, and unique characters manifest for some wine, feasting, and
whips for good measure. The red smoke, music, dancing, romance, and
chases lead to a blood pact or two before one final romp in the mud.
Overall, this remains tame, and the plot should have gotten to the
more interesting coven action in the latter half sooner. However, the
unpolished aesthetics and retro feeling keep this late night drive-in
eerie fun.
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