The Witch

Robert Eggers gives away the baby’s disappearance in the opening minutes and then refuses to return to it. The long stretch that follows is about a failing corn crop, a missing silver cup and a family accusing one another. The horror arrives as accusation, not attack. The dialogue is seventeenth century English, never smoothed out. No artificial light was used, interiors were lit by candles alone, and some scenes genuinely go dark. The cottage windows, though, were built about a third larger than period accuracy allows, because otherwise no daylight was left to shoot inside. Eggers has said they kept tying the schedule in knots to keep the weather grey. The 1,66:1 frame makes the trees look taller and the rooms more closed in. Costume designer Linda Muir worked through a thirty five volume series on common period dress and built a wardrobe of wool, linen and hemp. The gathering at the end was played by butoh dancers who devised their own choreography. A good fit if you can sit through a long run of a family fighting over a stolen silver cup and do not mind scenes that really go dark under candlelight. Not for you if you want scares in sequence: after that opening the film withholds almost everything, and its harshest moments are accusations between family members.