The Love Witch is a film that was released in 2016 and has gained quite a following since then. It tells the story of a young witch named Elaine who uses her magical powers to find love. The film has an interesting mix of genres, combining elements of horror, comedy, and romance. One popular aspect of the film is its visual style. Director Anna Biller created a visually stunning and meticulously detailed world that pays homage to 1960s and 70s Technicolor films. Every scene is saturated with vibrant colors and elaborate sets and costumes, creating a visually rich and mesmerizing experience.
Feminist Fatale: The Love Witch
( Depending on who you are, there might or might not be spoilers in this review, but I ask you, What exactly is a spoiler? A literal translation indicates that I am spoiling the film for you, but how so? It could be in the form of plot revealers, but what if these were inconsequential? And what about shot analysis that might delve further into the character? Is that not a spoiler as well? It could be pivotal to the film and might reveal something simmering beneath the surface. So should all reviews be read after watching the film? Then what’s the point of the reviewer doing his best to champion the film? How will we know about the films he championed? Snippets from Rotten Tomatoes? We can watch a film with the review in the back of our minds, either agreeing or disagreeing with the specific segment that the reviewer analysed. If we agree, it might be a spoiler, as you get the feeling that you probably wouldn’t have noticed it on your own, but we nonetheless end up appreciating the film and the review anyway. A minor disappointment, I think, but a disappointment nonetheless, although there is a possibility of a good review enriching your experience than impeding it. If you still want to know if there are ‘spoilers’ in this article, my only answer is that the spoilers are currently having an identity crisis, so its better to read them now before they manifest themselves in their entirety.)
(The things I got to do to get you to read my article………………….)
‘Feminist’ is an epithet that is being carelessly brandished by many reviewers for an inordinate amount of films these days. Considering the current political climate and heightened awareness about the inequalities endured by women (and other genders) across the world, the presence of a strong female character certainly deserves to be heralded. But this leads to the dubious branding of a film as ‘Feminist’, which functions as a medal of valor bestowed by the critics to further exalt their favourite films. Unfortunately, this not only undermines the feminist political movement but also digresses away from a film’s primary concerns by burdening it with a feminist tag. I will leave it to Anna Biller’s excellent blog post to eloquently explicate on the subject, but modesty naturally prevents her from subjecting her film, The Love Witch, a strikingly entrancing film teetering on the side of sexploitation, to the same scrutiny she subjects other films to. Although I rarely describe a film as feminist, I think The Love Witch deserves that epithet, the vagueness and vagaries of the tag notwithstanding.
At first glance, virtually nothing in the film points to anything remotely feminist. A gaudy blood-soaked pastiche of B-movies and Giallo films with idiosyncratic incorporations from an eclectic mix of genres, The Love Witch follows Elaine (Samantha Robinson), a woman emboldened by her heartbreak to find her true love and,of course, the witch implied by the title. The film opens with her speeding on a highway near the coast, followed by a schlocky rear frame projection reminiscent of a low budget 60s movie. A voice over delivered with the stilted syrupiness of a cheesy rom com by Elaine explains that she is looking forward to her new life. Vestiges of a gory flashback revealing the murder of her ex-husband periodically appear, a murder which Elaine is probably complicit in.
A beautiful woman, Elaine arms herself with a thick, glossy jet-black wig whose luxuriance starkly reminds one of the male fantasies conjured by shampoo advertisements, and long, inviting, Gothic eyelashes to add extra oomph in her sojourn for true love. She brews a dangerous and hallucinogenic concoction of love potions which she probably doesn’t need to attract men, but these potions reveal hidden depths and can have disastrous side effects. In her quest for love, Elaine relies on a mixture of fatalistic beauty, intense sex and motherly devotion to secure the heart of her man. “Giving men sex is a way of unlocking their love potential”, she says, wearing a pink hat and frilled gown in the style of the 1900s, sipping her tea in a Victorian tea house to renaissance music played on a harp. “You sound like you have been brainwashed by the patriarchy”, her friend, Trish responds, echoing our thoughts.
With such a film oozing with romance, lust and blood curdling passion in many frames, and the fear of female sexuality looming large over the scenes, spiced up with the femme fatalesque nature of Elaine, the dreamy syrupiness associated with rom-coms and the deliberate, stilted campiness of soaps and B-movies, Biller’s schlockiness might lead one to construe this film as a parodic formal tribute the bygone giallo horror films. While the film is delightful aesthetically and laced with incisive humor throughout, Biller’s film does more than poke jibes at the teeming eroticism of horror films and the stereotypes it delineates. Depending on the person you are, you could describe the film as striking, delirious, hallucinatory, bold, visionary, revisionist, feminist, hilarious, pretentious, campy, bizarre, quirky, saucy, ravishing, sensuous and cheesy, and The Love Witch fits almost all these descriptions and allows them to awkwardly coexist, many times in a single frame. It transcends every stereotype associated with these genres by masterfully concocting a rich world that is deliriously anachronistic, yet remarkably pertinent.
The femme fatale is generally viewed from the lens of a male protagonist in film-noir, portrayed as a conniving, nefarious woman hoodwinking the man through her rapturous beauty, and naturally, the film’s sentiments (and ours) lie with the poor hero (with the exception of a few like Angel Face). Biller not only reverses the gaze but shudders us through an uncomfortable dialectic by hovering over the zone of moral ambiguities. Every cliché is duly demolished by merely shifting the gaze, and once we observe from the director’s standpoint, the simple lines in film-noir and horror films are heavily blurred. By refusing to give any moral answers, Biller uses her film to criticize other genres rather than simply emulate, and that is the praise one usually associates with Godard.
Consider Elaine’s first two lovers, Wayne and Trish’s husband, Richard. Although she uses her sex magic on both, it served as nothing more than a trigger to reveal the true depths of their character. Elaine plays right into Wayne’s desire of a beautiful and smart woman, an extremely rare combination as he himself readily agrees. A night of intense passion with minimal foreplay (which makes Wayne quite pleased) leads Wayne towards a fit of desperation that repulses Elaine, causing Wayne to cry himself to death because of a side effect of the potion. Richard, on the other hand, is almost instantly goaded into a sordid love affair by Elaine after he expressed regret over not having one. He is driven to suicide after obsessing over Elaine. The function of the love potion is to simply reveal the men’s fantasies, both of which could be grouped under the ultimate male fantasy: A woman as both the mother and the whore. While the whore term naturally involves some flexibility in its definition, both men desire Elaine as a glorified sex object while they pine for her support during times of distress, which she acquiesces by offering a mother’s sympathy, brilliantly exemplified by her dialogue, “Poor, poor, baby.”
Elaine, tired of both men, finally falls in love with an ultra- masculine police officer, Griff (Gian Keys). While investigating her case, Griff succumbs to her magic and slowly falls in love with her. If the previous affairs were indicative of the tropes involving the fear of female sexuality and the fatalistic seductress, Biller somehow manages to squeeze a third, although a subtler stereotype here. This is a rather common internet phenomenon which castigates women for ignoring the advances of men who ‘sincerely’ love her, only to fall in love with a ‘macho jerk’. Although Griff sees love as a sign of weakness and is less susceptible to Elaine’s charm, he was the only person among the trio whose first experience with Elaine did not end up in sex. Instead, it began with a mock Renaissance fair to performed by the witches commemorate the spring solstice. Elaine’s wish for fairy tale weddings, albeit a mock one in this case, was only fulfilled by Griff, whereas the others loved what she represented in their sexual encounters more than anything else. Griff might have been the least susceptible to her charms, causing him to suspect her for the murders and pass judgements about her witchcraft, but his machismo prevented him from desiring a mother and a whore.
The uneasy questions Biller poses here itself are, in themselves a significant achievement, but Biller does find space for more. Elaine’s cohort of witches indulge in strange practices that involve a strange mix of satanic rituals, full frontal nudity and paganism. (Time for a pointless quibble! If the witches were already present before Christ, then why do Satanic rituals seem to mix with their paganism and pantheism? A modern inclusion to further enrage the Christians? Provocative bunch, these witches.) The head witch urges the women to play right into male fantasies to gain a grip over them, by gaining power through submissiveness. Biller shows empowerment through objectification, posing a moral quandary. While this might give an appearance of a progressive environment fostered by the witches, the head witch himself ends up touching Elaine in the wrong places outside of the rituals, leading to her apparent displeasure, with Biller silently indicting those who prey under the guise of progressiveness.
After providing so much insight into the male characters, the biggest disappointment turned out to be Trish, who was scarcely developed. It is understandable that she would start questioning her attitude after Richard’s death, but it is beguiling to see her not question Richard at all during his turmoil. Even after his death, it is quite unconvincing to see her try on Elaine’s wig and makeup and think that sex is necessary to keep a man. But thankfully, this uncharacteristic development leads to a fascinating pay off. Griff discovers Elaine’s complicity in the murders and questions her at the club. This riles up the irate, witch-hating members who attack her. Griff rescues her and takes her to her apartment, still unwilling to let her go scot- free despite loving her. Enraged, Elaine stabs him continuously until she sees one of her paintings, with the film culminating in a fantasy. The memories of the mock wedding transform into a real fairy tale wedding, with Griff carrying her off in a horse, an eerie silence permeating through the scene. The fantasy serves as a metaphor for Elaine herself, a little girl who dreams of being carried in a horse but instead, morphed into a dangerous seductress who carelessly kills men in her quest for love. Elaine, whose identity is brought to the fore by Samantha Robinson’s terrifically stilted performance, is a victim of her society’s prejudices.
All this brings us back to the initial question: Is The Love Witch a feminist film? By examining the social dynamics in a fantastical, cinematic relationship tilted heavily in the favour of men, Biller shifts the conversation to a situation that is not black and white as portrayed in many films, a problem that still persists today, although not overtly. Criticizing stereotypes by taking them to their logical extremes, Biller forces us to rethink our notions about a relationship between a man and a woman, asking us not to paint the woman in such an unsympathetic light. I don’t know if that qualifies as feminist for you, for the term is still vague, but I think it is sufficient for me.
Love Witch 5 stars ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Women have long been lusted after and feared in equal measure by men, for their feminine wiles that seem able to tempt, disarm then emasculate (which is to many as bad as killing) the most masculine of men.
And Elaine is the embodiment of everything men fear and adore about women, with added spells, potions, candles and naked paintings – plus a long black shiny wig that perfectly covers her boobs when she strips off dress, stockings, suspender belt and bra, which she does with great delight and faster than you can say “hocus pocus”.
If you’ve ever cast a love spell then got so annoyed with the resultant neediness when it actually worked that you had to murder the recipient, then The Love Witch will speak to you. And even if you haven’t, please watch it as it’s a brilliant film. By turns funny, warm, retina-burning, shocking and jarring, and like its subject astonishingly gorgeous to look at, it is the story of Elaine (Samantha Robinson), a witch who has pitched up in a new town after her husband divorced her then mysteriously died.
Moving into an apartment owed by her friend Barbara, Elaine is shown round by interior decorator Trish (Laura Waddell). If Elaine’s body was created for 60s and 70s fashions, Trish’s was perhaps moulded for a curvier age. Slightly lumpen in the too-tight trousersuits and frilled blouses that she prefers, her hair neither cutely short and sexy nor long and richly luxurious, she seems even more awkward next to the effortlessly sensual Elaine.
Trish takes Elaine to the women-only Victorian Tearoom, a fabulous place where I want to go immediately. Decorated in shades of cream, pink and white, its female patrons tone beautifully with the colour palette in their pale frilly dresses and enormous pink hats garlanded with lace and flowers. There’s even a harpist in the corner. The cakes look deliciously indulgent, huge confections of white plumpness occasionally drenched in a blood-red sauce. It’s here that Elaine explains to Trish her views on love and relationships.
“You have to give a man his fantasy”, she declares, in the manner of a Stepford Witch. “Men are like children, they’re very easy to please, as long as you give them what they want”. But she is simultaneously casting spells and brewing love potions to make them fall in love with her. Still very damaged from her marriage to Jerry, Elaine is clearly desperate to fall in love and this time be in control: “I understand men so much better than I used to. If only I’d known before what I know now!” she says.
Soon Elaine is bewitching university professor Wayne (Jeffrey Vincent Parise), the embodiment – with his big white teeth, neatly trimmed beard, long hair and jeans – of the worst kind of 1970s sexist literature professor, moaning about not being able to find the right woman as “all the bright ones are homely and don’t arouse me”. Poor Wayne makes the age old mistake of taking an unknown woman to his cabin in the woods, a trip which, by the time Elaine has finished with him, he will never make again. Still, what a way to go.
Next on Elaine’s Love List is Trish’s husband Richard (Robert Seeley), followed by Griff the police sergeant (Gian Keys) who is on her trail once Wayne’s disappearance is reported.
Elaine herself is narcissistic, immoral, and ungrateful (when a bar full of thuggish men turn on her shouting – in an echo from down the ages – “burn the witch!”, she is rescued by Griff, and sorry but they don’t end up living happily ever after).
Despite this she is a sympathetic character rather than a scary one, though I would say that, as it’s not me she’s trying to kill. She has no morals about trying to captivate anyone who already has a wife or a girlfriend, but she is rather childlike in her sudden dislike of these men and what she’s turned them into when they become incredibly needy.
Any campness or knowingness is disarmed by Samantha Robinson’s total embodiment of Elaine. There are no winks to camera, and everyone plays their roles completely straight. I only laughed with, not at, The Love Witch. Even when she comes out with lines such as “I’m addicted to love!”, which would usually see me slick on some more red lippy, grab a guitar and break into the Robert Palmer song, Elaine is completely believable.
The film looks extraordinary. Unmistakably 60s and 70s, every scene is drenched in colour and wonderful attention to detail: Elaine’s little red dresses and over the knee boots; the chain smoking; even the first scenes where Elaine is driving along the coast in a sports car with a clearly pre-filmed background, like in 60s TV serials. The props are detailed and highly covetable. Who doesn’t want a pentagram rug? Or a spell book? Her make up – blue and green eye shadow and thick black winged eye liner, with glossy pale pink or red lips, is enticingly suggestive.
There are a couple of things set up to deliberately jar. The Love Witch is actually set in the present day, with little unexpected details giving that away, jolting us out of our vintage love fest. Something else that jars is the staginess of the dialogue. The actors sound at times – deliberately, of course – like they are in a play, announcing lines to an audience rather than having a conversation. It’s so Shakespearean that when Elaine and Griff, in their matching beige jodhpurs and crisp white shirts, come across a medieval fair in the woods, complete with singing damsels, jesters, and a mock wedding involving white and gold outfits and crowns, I was half-expecting a British National Treasure to come striding out slapping his thigh and singing “hey nonny nonny” while someone else wandered by wearing a donkey’s head – like in one of those outdoor stagings of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that clog up the parks of leafy middle class towns throughout the warmer months.
I loved the idea that every town has its own black witches and white witches, and has had since forever. Elaine isn’t just a lone sorceress. Her friends Barbara and Gahan run a coven where everyone gets naked and then tries not to sit too close to the fire, and there’s a lovely shop selling witches’ herbs and spell-making products. Witchcraft has rescued Elaine: “Witchcraft is my religion… and this religion which is older than your Christianity saved my life” she tells Griff.
Anna Biller is The Love Witch’s writer, director, producer, editor, and creator of the costumes and the sets. In fact she has so many credits at the start of the film it might as well have simply said “Almost everything done by Anna Biller”. This of course is why the film is never sidetracked by anyone else’s vision, and we get a depth of richness I’ve rarely seen elsewhere.
The Love Witch certainly isn’t a film you will easily forget, and it’s one I could watch again and again (in fact I bought it this morning having seen it at the cinema last night). Elaine’s witchery clearly doesn’t just capture the hearts of the men around here.
The Best Movies Featuring Witches Ranked
In film, as in history itself, witches have a bit of a reputation. They're in league with the devil, they chow down on children, bewitch their enemies, and get up to all manner of nefarious misdeeds. Stories of powerful women, wielding dark magic to exact their whims, pepper the annals of horror films. And yet, as far as cinema is concerned, murderous crones and conspiratorial covens aren't quite the whole story. Some witches find themselves at the beating heart of romantic comedies, big studio musicals, and animated kids classics. Mutable and impossible to put in a box, the cinematic witch crosses many a genre boundary and is all the more powerful for it.
In an abundance of witch content, across such a wide array of genres, it can be difficult to narrow down the best of the witchy best. Luckily for you, we've consulted the critical consensus over at the review aggregator Rotten Tomatoes, as well as the average ratings from IMDb users, to come up with the top 14 witch films of all time. Many of them reside in the dank, devious corner of the horror section, but others are far more benign and delightful. So grab your nearest broom and give the potions a break. Here, for your viewing pleasure, are the fourteen best witch films according to Rotten Tomatoes and IMDb.
Every scene is saturated with vibrant colors and elaborate sets and costumes, creating a visually rich and mesmerizing experience. The Love Witch has received mostly positive reviews from critics, with a 95% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Many praised its unique aesthetic and feminist themes.
Bell, Book, and Candle (1958)
While witches tend to conjure images of hovel-dwelling medieval crones, more than a few entries on this list dare to imagine what a thoroughly modern witch might look like. For "Bell, Book and Candle," the modern magic practitioner is less concerned with witch hunters than petty interpersonal squabbles. And armed with an arsenal of enchantments, any witch worth her salt is capable of stirring the pot (or is that the cauldron?).
Directed by former MGM actor Richard Quine, the 1958 film tells of an ennui-filled secret witch named Gillian Holroyd (Kim Novak) who takes an interest in her neighbor Shep (James Stewart). Unfortunately for Gillian, Shep is engaged to the absolutely despicable Merle (Janice Rule), who also happens to be Gillian's old nemesis from college. Luckily it's nothing a little magical fiddling won't sort out, and Gillian swiftly bewitches Shep who falls instantly, and madly, in love.
In "Bell, Book and Candle," the typical misunderstandings of the romantic comedy genre take on a delightfully spooky and supernatural aspect, from Gillian's feline familiar Pyewacket to some adorably love-bound in-universe rules about what happens, exactly, when witches fall in love. Taking place during Christmas in New York, "Bell, Book and Candle" is, in a word, enchanting. Oh, and if you needed two more selling points: Jack Lemmon and comedy legend Ernie Kovacs.
With a 75% critical consensus on Rotten Tomatoes and a 6.8 on IMDb, it's clear that as far as witch films are concerned, "Bell, Book and Candle" continues to charm all these years later.
The film explores the ways in which women are often objectified and reduced to their appearance in society. Elaine's quest for love becomes a commentary on the expectations and pressures placed on women to conform to certain ideals. The performances in The Love Witch have also been widely praised. Samantha Robinson, who plays Elaine, delivers a captivating performance as the seductive and enigmatic witch. Her portrayal combines elements of old Hollywood glamour with a modern sensibility, making her a truly memorable and complex character. Some viewers, however, have criticized The Love Witch for its intentionally campy and exaggerated style. While the film clearly pays homage to classic horror films, some found the satire to be over-the-top and excessive. Additionally, the slow pacing of the film may not appeal to all audiences, as it prioritizes atmosphere and style over plot progression. Overall, The Love Witch is a unique and visually stunning film that offers a fresh perspective on love and gender roles. Its blend of genres and its exploration of female empowerment make it a thought-provoking and entertaining watch. Whether you enjoy it for its aesthetic or its social commentary, The Love Witch is a film that is sure to leave a lasting impression..
Reviews for "The Love Witch: A Contemporary Classic as per Rotten Tomatoes"
1. John - 1/5
I was really disappointed with "Love Witch" after reading all the positive reviews. The plot was slow and confusing, and the characters were completely unrelatable. I found myself rolling my eyes at the cheesy dialogue and cringe-worthy acting. The film tried to be a modern take on a classic witch story, but it fell flat on so many levels. I couldn't wait for it to be over.
2. Sarah - 2/5
I had high hopes for "Love Witch" based on the intriguing trailer, but in reality, it didn't live up to the hype. The movie had some visually stunning moments and beautiful cinematography, but that's about it. The story was weak and predictable, and it didn't offer anything new or thought-provoking. The characters were one-dimensional and lacked depth, making it hard to care about what happened to them. Overall, "Love Witch" was a letdown and failed to deliver on its promise.
3. Richard - 2/5
I appreciate the attempt to create a unique and stylized film with "Love Witch," but it ultimately left me feeling bored and unsatisfied. The pacing was incredibly slow, and the plot meandered without a clear direction. The supposed feminist message felt forced and superficial, as the movie failed to develop its female characters beyond their physical appearances. I was hoping for a gripping and empowering witch story, but instead, I got a disjointed and tiresome film that left me wanting more substance.