Season of the Witch

To get the most out of 'Season Of The Witch' ignore the horror tag and put Romero's zombie movies out of your mind. This is more of a character study cum social document of an early 70s bored housewife's attempt to find meaning in her life. Faced with dull bourgeois conformity on one side, and a counter-culture that offers no real answers on the other, she eventually finds her own direction. Low budget, variable performances and all, I still found this to be a much more complex and accomplished movie than Romero's most recent effort 'Bruiser'. While it doesn't impress as much as his overlooked vampire gem 'Martin' (which shares certain similarities in approach and theme), it's not to be dismissed. It may not be entirely successful, but I highly recommend it.

Despite the fact that this film is by George Romero and it's sold as a horror film, _Season of the Witch_ (aka _Jack's Wife_ which is, in my opinion, the better title) isn't really a horror film.

Or, at the very least, it isn't a *straightforward* horror film and anyone going into this expecting Romero's typical gore and suspense will definitely be disappointed. The closest the film comes to typical horror are some wonderfully eerie sequences involving a man in a grotesque satanic-looking rubber mask (exploitatively depicted on some of the older videocassette sleeve covers for the film) trying to break into the main character's house.

What this film amounts to is the story of one woman who finds herself dissatisfied with the daily plod of her existence as a respectable wife in a respectable suburb. She feels herself aging. She's secretly bitter toward her husband and her friends. It's never really clear what she wants exactly because she doesn't seem to know herself, but she does become intrigued by a woman in the neighborhood who claims to a witch. She meets with this woman and, though she's afraid of black magic, she's inspired to explore it on her own. She goes out and buys a book on the subject and some witchcraft paraphernalia and then begins casting spells from her kitchen.

Despite the non-gory subject matter, there are some things in this film that bear the distinctive signature of Romero and his influences. There's a keen visual wit on display, particularly in some scenes involving mirrors. There are some odd hallucinatory dream sequences here that come straight from the more supernatural side of Italian horror (particularly the opening scene). Many of the scenes are ramshackle and crudely staged, but not in an altogether bad way. Rather, they almost recall a documentary. There's genuine tension (but not "horror film" tension). You don't know where scenes are going to go or what the characters are going to do or say next. You never really get inside many of the characters, but they're offbeat and watchable (particularly the young student-teacher, who's into drugs, casual sex, and some pretentious post-late 60's philosophy).

Not everything in this film works. It's badly edited. Much of the acting is weak. However, the film does have an intriguing, almost New Wave, experimental-like cadence. It's rough and full of jagged edges, but, in that respect, it's really no worse than Jean Luc-Godard at his most indulgent. Even more so than _Martin_, this is Romero's "art film". If it were a piece of music instead of a movie it would be slow, discordant and lo-fi.

This is recommended for all Romero admirers to see at least once.

A thoughtful character study with supernatural tinges, misleading marketed as a straightforward horror film due to Romero's reputation, this film raises more questions than it can answer but is involving despite its leisurely pace. Certainly a more honest confrontation of suburban anomie than the likes of American Beauty, anyway, it boasts a well-modulated lead performance from Jan White, as well as arresting dream sequences and an overall well-sustained quiet tension throughout.

Good Gravy! This is an odd movie. It's kind of like the bored-housewives-turn-on schlock released by Something Weird Video, except it's done as a "serious" movie. Plus, it's advertised as a horror movie because it was directed by George A. Romero, he of "Dawn of the Dead" fame. I watched the Anchor Bay special edition of this flick- the name on the video box is "Season of the Witch", the actual movie has the title "Jack's Wife", and in the theatrical trailer included on the tape the movie is called "Hungry Wives". But ignoring all that, I enjoyed most of this movie. The actors are all good, and the movie is packed with great dream sequences. The proof that this movie is above average is that it can use the tired "waking up from one dream only to find that you're still dreaming" device skillfully.

The plot concerns a bored housewife whose husband ("Jack", I guess) occasionally smacks her around, telling her she needs to "kick some ass" (he says that a lot). She's got a super-cute red head daughter who introduces her to a trippy stoner who turns her on to a swingin' life style. This movie's strongest scenes are the ones concerning Jack's Wife's growing hatred of her dull life and friends.

Although Jack's Wife and her booze-guzzling friends go to see a woman who practices witchcraft, but that's not really a big part of the movie. The "Season of the Witch" title comes from the inclusion of a song, performed by Donovan, with that title. This song, played loudly over a throw-away scene, sounds as if it was recorded by one group sans Donovan, and then they played it over the radio and recorded Donovan singing out of rhythm with it. It's very, very bizarre.

But anyway, this was an obscure little gem that I really liked, and it gets bonus points for including a scene with Mad Libs.

This is one of my favorite films of all time. Joan, who seems to be suffering from a midlife crisis, breaks away from her world of therapy, bridge and cocktail parties and becomes involved in witchcraft. We never know if she REALLY has magical powers or not. Her nightmares and fantasies remind one of Roman Polanski's "Repulsion." In the end, Joan seems to finally have it all together. A definite must-see for any true Romero fan.