The Love Witch (2016) review

Dir. Anna Biller

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★★½

Anna Biller’s The Love Witch arrived on the indie circuit in 2016 to the delight and intoxication of viewers who decided to give the unassuming horror-comedy a chance. While some films reveal themselves to be great with each passing scene, Biller’s proves itself exceptional almost instantaneously. The first minutes thrust you into a dreamscape straight out of pulp novels and bygone Technicolor masterpieces. Presentational acting and the tried-and-true Mid-Atlantic dialect resurface as if they’ve never left. Biller’s film is so aesthetically superb that somewhere, even privately, Quentin Tarantino probably wishes he made it.

Filmed in gorgeous 35mm, The Love Witch follows the exploits of a narcissistic young temptress named Elaine (Samantha Robinson, her breakthrough performance also a masterclass), who is searching every inch of her sleepy California coast for a man to replace her recently murdered husband. A witch who loves engaging in various strange Satanic rituals, she’s also a potion-maker, using her urine, period blood, and various hallucinogens to create concoctions rich enough to get any man she chooses to fall madly in love with her.

Perhaps the greatest irony is that Elaine is so young and beautiful that she truly doesn’t need to go through these lengths. But that’s what a male-dominated world has taught her. Her convictions stun Trish (Laura Waddell), an interior decorator who designed her brand new apartment. “Giving men sex is a way of unlocking their love potential,” Elaine tells her. “You sound as if you’ve been brainwashed by the patriarchy,” the married Trish can’t help but respond.

If her own fairy-tale views on love were her sole weakness, Elaine would already be a very complicated package. She’s also a serial killer. Her biggest motive to kill is when she gets tired of the men she insidiously drugs to fall in love with her. Deep down, Elaine wishes for a spouse who loves her for more than a sex object, but the potions she crafts turn men into a melting puddle of emotions and vulnerability once they get both a taste of it and her. Consider Wayne (Jeffrey Vincent Parise), a professor who finds himself begging for Elaine’s attention and approval, much to her eventual disgust.

Eventually, Elaine’s murdering spree gets the attention of a detective played by Gian Keys, who looks and talks like he was plucked from an episode of Perry Mason. Remarkable not only are the technical aspects of The Love Witch, but also how Biller — who directs, writes, edits, and produces — lets themes and characters guide the plot as opposed to a linear progression of events. As if for fear of getting in the way of the ambiance and the command on which Robinson has on her character, Biller takes a more passive approach to the plot, and there’s enough meat on the entire production that this doesn’t make The Love Witch feel empty whatsoever.

Cinematographer M. David Mullen creates a film that looks and moves like it’s actually a lost Technicolor relic of the 1960s, despite the inclusion of cell phones and modern vehicles. Biller, who is responsible for the film’s impeccable costume design, apparently wanted to achieve a sense of “female glamour,” and she so does through the meticulous curation of interiors and outfits. Vintage dresses, unique jewelry, pentagram rugs, all of it pops thanks to the bright, vibrant color palette.

Consider the opening scene, which shows Elaine cruising down an oceanside highway, leaving heartbreak and the death of her husband/marriage in the rearview. She tells us through prolifically yet effectively utilized voiceover that she is excited about starting a new life. You get everything The Love Witch is about in this scene: a vast array of colors and hues, a dynamic protagonist, themes of women’s liberation, and a sense of dread.

Films like The Love Witch can so easily fall prey to being all pastiche with very little substance. By forgoing conventional plotting in favor of prominent themes, and illustrating such a complex yet arresting protagonist, both Biller and Robinson commendably defy convention as they borrow from the past to help contextualize the present. Even at two hours long, when the film ended, I would’ve happily agreed to a few more hours spent in this world. The spell The Love Witch puts you under is real, and there’s no feeling more welcome than authenticity when watching the work of an artist.

Starring: Samantha Robinson, Gian Keys, Laura Waddell, and Jeffrey Vincent Parise. Directed by: Anna Biller.