I re-watched The Witch last night, my first since I saw it in theaters earlier this year. Still incredibly effective slow burning horror, with a palpable feeling of dread throughout. But seeing it for a second time, I started to tune into other aspects of the film, thinking about how it sustains that feeling of menace that permeates the film.
It's been noted before, but this time I really picked up on how the shot framing and lighting are helping create that feeling of constant threat and danger to the family. This is most apparent when looking at how the woods are used as a backdrop continually, where very early on we know the witch resides, but the family does not. Sometimes it's more overt, such as in the wider shots where they loom large over the characters, swallowing them:
But it's also used throughout nearly every scene that takes place outdoors, where shots are framed so the woods are shadowing the characters:
Entire scenes play out not just with the forest as a setting, but as the predominant feature in the frame, a constant reminder of the danger the characters are in, without knowing it.
Even scenes set just outside the house are constantly framed so the woods loom large.
It would have been very easy to film this scene so the characters are seen against the field ahead of them, or with the house or barn in the background. Yet the entire scene is shot so the woods are taking up a quarter or more of the frame in nearly every shot, in a way that's much more subtle than the more overt wide shots that put the emphasis on them. I think it's one of the main ways the feeling of constant dread is maintained through the film, this aura of threat constantly present.
That's during the daytime, but a lot of the film is shot at night, and Eggars uses darkness in much the same way he uses the forest. The family are typically shot as being in a small island of light, surrounded by darkness.
They're always lit so we can see everything we need to with the characters, but they are being swallowed by darkness, literally and figuratively.
He leverages this as the family starts to fall apart, as suspicions grow and fears rise, driving darkness between them.
Shots like this grow subtly as the film progresses, until characters are increasingly isolated from one another, mirroring their fraying relationships. Between the forest in the day, and darkness at night, the family is constantly seen as in danger. They never feel safe. (It's also why showing the witch so early - 7 minutes in - is such a critical narrative choice. We need to know she's real for the woods to become threatening.)
I realize this is probably obvious to most, but it only really struck me how meticulously shot the film was on second viewing. It's relentlessly beautiful, but also as relentlessly oppressive.
It will be on my annual fall watch list for years. Utterly brilliant film.
