The Love Witch Written and directed by Anna Biller
Opens Friday, November 11, at The Nuart in West L.A.
Actress Samantha Robinson plus principal cast members at Fri., Nov. 11, 7 p.m. show; Sat., Nov.
12, 7 p.m. show, and Sun., Nov. 13, 4 p.m. show; Q&A with filmmaker Anna Biller Fri., Nov. 11
In these densely troubling times, itÕs good to grab an available laugh where you can get it, through your
tears, your rage, your boredom, your fear. A bit better still is the chance to learn a little something as you laugh. A politically packed tribute to
1960s Technicolor/Hammer horror thrillers, director/writer Anna BillerÕs The Love Witch is on one level a very, very funny load of kitsch that
gets funnier the longer it goes on, which is all you need to know for therapeutic and bang-for-your-buck reasons. ItÕs shot in 35mm and
lighted, set-decorated and costumed with fantastic attention to Ō60s-Ō70s technical, aesthetic and narrative detail, so itÕs hugely pleasurable to
just look at and immerse in. But itÕs funny in a peculiar, edifying way, mainly for how its visual pleasures seduce us into considering tricky
issues involving gender, sexuality, narcissistic love, male vs. female and female vs. self.
Elaine (ravishingly cold Samantha Robinson) is a raven-haired young witch in search of a man, and not just any man, but a real man who really loves her. So she does what witches do, which is to cook up spells and potions with which to aid her in her seduction of a series of unlucky male dorks ŠŠ who most likely wouldÕve fallen hard for her without any drugging. Elaine perhaps realizes this later, meanwhile the problem is her potions are a bit too strong, leaving a trail of literally heart-broken fools in her wake. When she finally meets the man who truly floats her boat, detective Griff (amusingly forthright Gian Keys), her determination to be loved brings her to the very cliff of madness.
Biller also did set and costume design as well as composing some of the music
(main scoring consists of Ennio Morricone and other Italian film soundtracks), and, as with her previous film, the kitsch-extravaganza Viva,
sheÕll be accused, wrongly, of favoring style over substance. But Biller makes films for and about women, and apparently for and about those who love or
admire women. She has said that her goal is to make a cinema about the female experience that caters to womenÕs visual pleasure while presenting
the filmic female not as an image to be possessed but Ņas an image in the mirror.Ó The Love Witch hospitably offers, to male and female viewers alike,
valuable (and hilarious) images, words and scenarios that trigger resonantly puzzling sensations and ideas. We lust over the bodies, faces and personas
of the filmÕs varied female and male principals, but they too lust over themselves, and only sort of loathe the feelings of oppression and empowerment
their often self-warped sexuality provokes.
ŠŠ John Payne
