It's funny how a B-movie like Night of the Demon will achieve cult status while Witchcraft, although boasting a less original storyline, is ignored despite having some equally memorable visuals.
When we were kids, I remember my sister and I being allowed to stay up late to watch Witchcraft as a special treat, if that's an appropriate way of describing it. It scared the heebeejeebees out of us. As the camera slowly panned up Vanessa Whitlock's body after she has risen from the grave, my sister whimpered: "oh, please make her pretty", which didn't make a lot of sense then but sort of does now. As it turned out, she was semi-relieved as she probably expected worms in empty eye sockets.
I've never forgotten the main set pieces - Vanessa appearing in the bedroom, the spellbound car journey and Granny Lanier's heroic exodus from her sanctuary - so the director was doing his job. What surprised me is how well this ancient movie stood up. Yes, the soundtrack is occasionally overbearing and the Devil doll and Devil worshippers running around in robes somewhat hokey, but there are some effective moments, such as the telephone call by the open door in the Lanier's living room. There is an eerie sense of foreboding as the camera pans to reveal the hall and you catch glimpse of a shadow on the stairs, at the same time as the door begins to mysteriously close.
But what really makes the film is Yvette Rees's uber-freaky performance as the resurrected witch, Vanessa Whitlock. She's not on the screen often but when she is, boy, does she make an impression. With her rictus grin and studied attempts to coordinate herself through rigor mortis, the effect is quite grotesque. Lon Chaney also appears intermittently to bellow lines, and is sadly less distinguished.
Those who liked BBC's Ghost Story for Christmas series (The stalls of Barchester springs to mind), may like Witchcraft. I'm not trying to talk it up to being a masterpiece or anything, but the impressionistic lighting of black and white is so right for this material and it's a shame it is long since out of vogue; Michael Almereyda's Nadja being a rare exception. The director of Witchcraft went on to direct Psychomania, an unfortunate attempt to come to terms with changing social mores. Set in a middling period of transition with more traditional material, Witchcraft is more successful.
When we were kids, I remember my sister and I being allowed to stay up late to watch Witchcraft as a special treat, if that's an appropriate way of describing it. It scared the heebeejeebees out of us. As the camera slowly panned up Vanessa Whitlock's body after she has risen from the grave, my sister whimpered: "oh, please make her pretty", which didn't make a lot of sense then but sort of does now. As it turned out, she was semi-relieved as she probably expected worms in empty eye sockets.
I've never forgotten the main set pieces - Vanessa appearing in the bedroom, the spellbound car journey and Granny Lanier's heroic exodus from her sanctuary - so the director was doing his job. What surprised me is how well this ancient movie stood up. Yes, the soundtrack is occasionally overbearing and the Devil doll and Devil worshippers running around in robes somewhat hokey, but there are some effective moments, such as the telephone call by the open door in the Lanier's living room. There is an eerie sense of foreboding as the camera pans to reveal the hall and you catch glimpse of a shadow on the stairs, at the same time as the door begins to mysteriously close.
But what really makes the film is Yvette Rees's uber-freaky performance as the resurrected witch, Vanessa Whitlock. She's not on the screen often but when she is, boy, does she make an impression. With her rictus grin and studied attempts to coordinate herself through rigor mortis, the effect is quite grotesque. Lon Chaney also appears intermittently to bellow lines, and is sadly less distinguished.
Those who liked BBC's Ghost Story for Christmas series (The stalls of Barchester springs to mind), may like Witchcraft. I'm not trying to talk it up to being a masterpiece or anything, but the impressionistic lighting of black and white is so right for this material and it's a shame it is long since out of vogue; Michael Almereyda's Nadja being a rare exception. The director of Witchcraft went on to direct Psychomania, an unfortunate attempt to come to terms with changing social mores. Set in a middling period of transition with more traditional material, Witchcraft is more successful.