Review: The Love Witch
A subversive, psychedelic and psychosexual fairy tale brought to you by production designer-costumer-editor-writer-director Anna Biller, The Love Witch is a vibrant throwback to the gloriously cheesy sexploitation films of the late Sixties and early Seventies. No mere pastiche, the film lovingly recreates the pulpy eroticism and combines it with slashes of the horror genre. Think of it as a feminist Giallo romantic comedy.
The film introduces Elaine (Samantha Robinson) as she drives up the California coast to "start a new life...where no one knows me" after the end of her relationship with husband Jerry (though flashbacks reveal a more sinister end to their marriage). She moves into a quaint Victorian home, decorated to the gills with all manner of occult paraphernalia, and befriends her friendly and married landlady Trish (Laura Waddell) over tea at the Victorian Tea Room, where the all-female clientele are clad in bubblegum pink attire any Stepford Wife would covet.
Elaine is looking for her Prince Charming, and she believes she has found the formula as far as understanding what men want. "Men just want a pretty woman to love and to take care of them and to make them feel like a man," she tells an amused Trish who replies, "You sound as if you've been brainwashed by the patriarchy." Indeed, as beautiful and intelligent as Elaine is, her pursuit of the man who will love her for who she is underneath will never be anything but a futile one since she constructs herself according to how she believes men want to see her.
The love spells she concocts also seem to be working against her since they reduce the men she attracts to simpering figures undone by the sudden rush of emotions. Funnily enough, their "feminine" neediness are anathema to the pathologically lovesick sorceress, who directly and indirectly is responsible for the ensuing body count. The silver lining to being questioned about her involvement with one unlucky sap is her encounter with square-jawed detective Griff (Gian Keys), who falls for her bewitching ways and decides that the everlastingly beguiling Elaine couldn't possibly be a sociopathic murderess.
The Love Witch, as delightful as it is, could have used some streamlining as the strain of its 120-minute running time becomes ever more evident as the film unfolds. The segments involving the frequently nude practitioners of black magic and their rituals are especially slow-paced and repetitive. Aside from that quibble, the film is extraordinary for its command of tone and texture and there's no denying that the cohesion is due to Biller, whose creativity informs every aspect of the work. Fetishists will find much to luxuriate in from the splendiferously retro costumes to the exuberantly detailed production design to the soundtrack that features several of Biller's own compositions as well as snippets from Ennio Morricone and a handful of classic Italian movies. Biller and cinematographer M. David Mullen also deploy many of the visual flourishes that dominated the era - soft focus, zoom lensing, prism effects, lurid colour flashes - as well as shooting the film in magnificent 35mm.
Anchoring it all is Robinson, who walks the fine line between artificiality and sincerity with panache. Elaine is both victim and victimiser, an exquisite monster bred by a society who believes that "women's intuitions and emotions are illnesses that need to be cured."
The Love Witch
Directed by: Anna Biller
Written by: Anna Biller
Starring: Samantha Robinson, Gian Keys, Laura Waddell, Jeffrey Vincent Parise, Jared Sanford, Robert Seeley, Stephen Wozniak, Laura Ingrum
