Wednesday, October 10, 2007

The Wicked Season

Witchfinder General (1968)
directed by Michael Reeves
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from Netflix

No fan of Christopher Lee would begrudge his legacy a few more Hammer pennies for budgeting a little atmosphere. Unlike Lee, Vincent Price never outclassed the garish midnight movies that delighted in the low-budget ostentation they used to dress their star. Price's performances were every inch the spectacle his movies exuded, tethered to the high register of a voice that cooed a deeply fetishized nasal drawl.

He was better served by his later years, when age combed his face like a match and candle, until the swishy gigolo from Laura was all but unrecognizable beneath the ashen demeanor of Witchfinder Matthew Hopkins. The film is a delight, of course, but like so much of Price's output, grounded less in horror than the rudimentary indifference of psychological terror. Witchfinder General twists the knife of neighbors' damning sympathies, suspicious only to be cruel, and dispatches human gravitas with ghastly vindication.