|
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
|||||||
This ran as a three-part series, looking at the portrayal of witches in popular culture, concentrating primarily upon the art of film. Quill and Frater S.P.R.V. together share their individual views - Quill's in italics, the Frater's in regular type.
*****
The paranoia concerning Witchcraft/Wicca is most often based upon fear - the fear of that which is different and the fear of contagion, that learning about the truisms of the religion will somehow contaminate the inquirer (and obviously the most available sources of misinformation with no threat of contagion are folklore and superstition).
In movies, the witch is often portrayed as an alien entity, whether outside of society or outside of humanity. Any individualistic traits expressed by these witches on the big screen are blatantly egocentric. Unfortunately, the fear mentioned earlier is often compounded by the presence of a Christian character/protagonist that is existent only to contrast the "evil" of the witch.
As seen in The Crucible, many Christians fear what they do not understand. Never in human history has there been any real "understanding" of what witchcraft or Paganism is about. Those who practice within the parameters of such faith - and they are wide and varying - have never had a "fair hearing".
For the most part, Christians write off to the actions of Satan anything beyond their realm of belief. At one point, it might have been dancing. There have been times when drinking alcohol was prohibited and, for some Christians, it is still the "mark of the devil" if a person gets intoxicated in public. Smoking, too, is a sin in the eyes of some - far more serious than the health ramifications warrant.
In an age of religious tolerance - when Jews hold meetings with Catholics, Lutherans, Muslims and Buddhists - why aren't the practitioners of Wicca included? It cannot be because we are such a small minority. It would be safe to say there are fewer homosexuals than there are Wiccans and Pagans, yet homosexuals have their agendas heard in every forum available. It is clear and constant discrimination, which flows over into the movies with witchcraft elements/themes made by Christians who don't understand the subject matter.
But, then, seeing witches and Pagans portrayed in this light on the screen gives Christians a supposed ready-made "scapegoat" on which to blame their troubles, or the troubles of the world around them. Through their ignorance and prejudice, numerous good people are marked as "evil" because their faith differs from the "norm". These are deemed unworthy of the love the Christian Savior preached all people deserved.
This tendency started long ago, it seems, and is reflected in movies set in mediaeval times, such as Excalibur.
Merlin's "Art" is, in it's basic form, natural magic (herbalism, healing, etc.) and is linked to the land itself. This is why the sword Excalibur is an extension of "the dragon". It must be used "to heal, not to kill". This seems contradictory to the nature of a sword, until it is remembered that the sword is a symbol of the element air, the element which regulates the awakened mental capacities. Thus, the active knowledge and example it presents is meant to "unite all and serve none".
Remember the Wiccan ethic that the good of the all comes before the good of the individual. The immanent and transcendent force of the land pervades and links all things (the Wiccan belief in interconnectedness). This is also suggested by Merlin's use of the loci of natural power and his statement that Arthur is linked directly to the land. As Arthur dies (is separated from "the dragon"/becomes passive instead of active), the land dies.
Unlike many films which portray witches as a form of oppressive evil, wielding every form of manipulative divination, in Excalibur, Merlin is not all-knowing. His knowledge of the future - though he does embody a sense of the Pagan belief that the past and the future exist within the present (if you have the means to access them) - is incomplete. Merlin also demonstrates many valid magical realities, from the fact that Truth must be valued above all ("When a man lies, he murders some part of the world."), to the fact that magickal spellwork can be draining (he slept for nine moons after his spell for Uther).
Admittedly, Excalibur contains much accurate "theory" about magic and Pagan beliefs, but Merlin doesn't always use his magic for good. Through the darkness of the plot, Merlin does try to teach Arthur wisdom, and to be a good king, failing in the end.
If indeed he did fail, at least he took fate into his own objective hands, illustrating the Pagan maxim of personal responsibility. And this was a selfless, projected fate that, given time, would not include him (to Morgana: "The days of our kind are numbered"), but was necessary for the wellbeing of both man and nature.
Disney provided an animated version of mediaeval magic, the pleasant Sword in the Stone. It tells of young King Arthur, who discovers a kindly Merlin, willing to teach and use his magic for good. If magick is anything, it is that.
Indeed, in both movies, knowledge is the key to Merlin's magic.
Even though that magic is sometimes tainted by personal bias and misplaced hopes. It seems, during the course of both Excalibur and Sword in the Stone (as well as the television mini-series Merlin) that Merlin's personal interests and battles play a major role in his use of magic (as it would for anyone). He doesn't always study the ramifications of what he is planning, however, causing more harm than good.
Which brings us to a movie not necessary "mediaeval" in setting, but definitely a proponent of the "old religions": The Wicker Man. This British movie, features Edward Woodward, of The Equalizer fame. Made in the 70s, it clearly displays a propensity for nudity, and a full-scale Beltane ritual, complete with a human sacrifice to the Goddess of the Orchards. The Pagan beliefs of the people, for the most part, are accurate, though the plot is shallow.
The Wicker Man gives an excellent portrayal of an open-minded Pagan community - especially Christopher Lee's cool, logical commentary on Summerisle's agrarian roots. I immediately thought of the debate over the validity of Margaret Murray's findings about the old religion: despite our desire to render Wicca as a preserved form of an underground ancient religion, all that can be documented as fact is that modern Wicca was, in a distilled form, first made public by Gerald Gardner. Up until the final scene of this movie, at which time the Wiccan Rede is spectacularly violated, it portrays a playful religion which embraces fertility - sexually and agriculturally - and the wheel of life. The final scene nonetheless sinks the movie into the "evil pagan" morass in which our modern society finds itself mired.
It almost seems that practitioners of the "old religion" from centuries past are doomed to have their beliefs torn about in films. Will the truth ever prevail?
The era of movies from the 30s to the 70s did little to promote the cause of witchcraft, witches and Wicca. While there can be no mistake that The Wizard of Oz is a classic. It is also a classic example of the stereotypical evil witch (tall hat, green skin) vs. the stereotypical good witch (beautiful in every way). It is a story of morals, but it doesn't speak at all well of what Wicca or magic really is.
In The Wizard of Oz, all of the questing characters are elemental in composition. They are all incomplete and seeking that completion from without rather than from within. It also perpetuates and reinforces the feminine stereotypes associated with magick: women are either haggard witches associating with flying monkeys (which, if you want to stretch the point, can be seen as a symbol of nature violated) or, if they are good and obey all the dogmatic rules of "accepted", social magic, they emerge as some unattainable, archetypical tooth-fairy clone. None of the wisdom demonstrated (excluding the obvious astral potential inherent in dreams) has to do with true magickal theory or the wiccan system of self-awareness and responsibility. Not to mention the fact that the final revelation concerning the wizard smacks of empty atheism, the final answer to the characters' spiritual search. It seems a pyrrhic victory that renders magick dead as a transformational tool.
I Married a Witch is a more whimsical 1945 look at witches. The plot begins with a 17th century curse placed on Jonathan Woolley by the witch Jennifer, because he denounced her, along with her father. An oak tree is planted over the site where the two witches are burned - to hold their "evil" in. Throughout the centuries, the Woolley men have no luck in love. As the mid-20th century approaches, lightning bolts during a storm strike the oak tree, releasing Jennifer and her father, as two puffs of smoke. By burning down buildings, these puffs of smoke are able to take human form once more, supposedly to take revenge upon the current Woolley, Wallace. Instead, Jennifer drinks the concoction she made to make Wallace fall in love with her, and she falls in love with him. They are married, at which time Jennifer's father takes away her "powers" and swears to return her to the confinement of the oak tree. Jennifer swears love is stronger than witchcraft and, in the end, her "spirit" returns to her body. She traps her father's spirit in a bottle of liquor, where he is kept for the years to come.
The film I Married a Witch illustrates a problem existent in our fundamentalist-policed world: the danger of an unwanted, socially-imposed label that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The witches believe themselves to be evil in contrast to the restrictive, puritan world to the point that such an idea is borne time and time again in the karmic turnings of reincarnation. Many aspiring Wiccans have become confused at best from the damning influences of inflexible accusers willfully ignorant of the truth of paganism. Isn't it ironic that such individuals claim their actions are based on righteous spiritual concerns?
The problem with this is, again, the witches are seen as evil, and consider themselves evil, also. They are not "human", they came from elsewhere. The father is over 800 years old, and has the power to fire a gun lying on a table into his own heart, just to frame Woolley, who is running for governor. Unreal.
The Conqueror Worm (also known as The Witchfinder General) takes place during the turmoil under Oliver Cromwell in England. Vincent Price plays the lead character, who - with his partner - takes pay for seeking out "witches", forcing confessions, and performing the executions. The interesting thing is that there is not one authentic witch in the film. All the victims are framed, for political or other reasons. Having been made in the late 60s in Britain, there is naturally copious nudity and violence. Not a movie for children, nor if you intend to find out anything about real witchcraft. About rampant injustice, it is a fine specimen...
We also have Bell, Book and Candle, its title arising from the tools used by the ancient church in excommunication, is an exercise in identification through contrast. Kim Novak's character, a witch who is, surprisingly, intelligent, attractive and successful (this element is quashed of course, as her real-world "conformity" is then redefined as an aberration against the witches' standard of eccentricity and instability), chooses to sacrifice her witch-self to become human in order to gain Jimmy Stewart's love. Like Hans Christian Andersen's (and, to a lesser degree, Disney's ham-handed remake) The Little Mermaid, the witch is seen as alien, unable to exist within the emotional boundaries that define humanity. Love, then, becomes a principle unreachable by those outside the accepted faith. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Oddly enough, I have to group Bell, Book and Candle (James Stewart, Kim Novak, Elsa Lancaster, Jack Lemmon) and the 90s Teen Witch (Zelda Rubenstein, Dick Sargent) together. Both treat witches as "aliens", a different race, and the prospect of becoming human less than appealing. In the first, Kim Novak's character falls in love with James Stewart's character, and she renounces her "witchhood" to become human. In Teen Witch, the main character, Louise Miller, discovers she will receive "the power" on her sixteenth birthday. The theme of both movies is, of course, love and the perils thereof. Wastes of time, both of them.
Walt Disney's effort of this period, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, is World War II witchcraft from a children's viewpoint. Angela Lansbury portrays an absent minded apprentice witch, taking a correspondence course, complete with gibberish words. A live action/animation sequence is thrown in, as well. The one redeeming thing about this movie is that Lansbury's character uses her witchcraft only for good - defending England against invasion by the Germans.
Again, where are the authentic witches?
Part III - The Modern Take on Witches
In most, if not all, of the modern TV and movie offerings, the Rede and/or magickal Law is ignored or, at best, stumbled into blindly, the result of the blind misuse of magick. In both The Craft and Practical Magic, the very elements that undermine the image of our religion (the use of spells and charms for manipulation, for control, for raising the dead, etc.) are projected onto the big screen. And in The Craft especially, the very themes that are playing havoc on the internal cohesion of the Pagan community are broadcast as doctrine: the Power is only given to the worthy; the Power hinges on heredity; only certain people have the capability of wielding the Power; the Power is transformative in an exclusionary way (i.e. vampirism - you gain immortality, but you're no longer human; it becomes an "us vs. them" equation) et al, ad nauseam. And perhaps, most tragically, the Power that is used in The Craft must be invoked - there is no mention of the true, inner origin of magickal energy or that magickal potential lies within all of us.
Indeed, The Craft, while it boasts impressive special effects, propels a group of neophyte Wiccans to "adept" status in less than two hours and, movie-wise, in less than a month. The characters perform one ritual that may be close to realistic (thanks to technical advisor Pat Devlin), but the rest of the time they use their magic for revenge or flat-out stupidity.
Warlock is interesting in its accuracy about much of witch-lore, except that the main character is, again, "black". About the time he severs one man's finger then bites out his tongue (ten minutes into the script), I realized there would be little to redeem the plot. It is a violent, dark film, with Satanic motivations well in evidence.
The Witches of Eastwick is another horrible example of a movie linking the practice of witchcraft with the devil. It is just another reinforcement of the prevalent stereotype. Admittedly, this can happen, but not like this script portrays.
Like modern performance art, the contemporary film image of the witch cannot wrench itself away from popular culture's morass of restrictions to be a truly original, independent entity. It's an excellent example of the media's - and this is supposed to be the creative end of the media - apathy toward a social issue that must be addressed truthfully if it ever to be embraced. The formula seems to be: put forth the least effort, expend no amount of energy on research or, the gods forbid, comprehension and understanding, examine what sells in terms of popular culture, sanitize the project to eliminate all issues of any gravity, look at the way in which it's been dealt with in the past and choose your favorite marketable hearsay and superstitions, and repackage it in the euphemistic trappings of the modern day. All this can do is produce a skewed view of true Paganism, spread misinformation and ignorance and mask the urgency of the situation.
Proof of this is found in The Witches, with Anjelica Huston. The women of the title - undisguised - have no hair, deformed feet, and like to turn people into mice. Again, they are "aliens" living among humans and wreaking havoc to fulfill their own personal agenda.
Along these same lines, Hocus Pocus is clearly a movie targeting a youthful audience, complete with an animatronic black cat, and three ugly witches. To go into greater detail is almost painful.
Warner Brothers got into the witch movie game, combining the popularity of twins Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen with a Halloween theme. Cloris Leachman plays her own twin in Double, Double, Toil and Trouble, one good, one evil. The evil twin casts a spell which traps the good twin inside a mirror. If the spell is not broken by midnight on Halloween, the good twin will be trapped there forever. That is where the Olsen twins come in, being distant relatives. They run through a series of not-too-risky adventures to save the good twin. Again, the stereotypes are prevalent and, for "family fare", it passes along the wrong message about witches and magic. Children watching this - and other similar - movies may grow up with a bias against anyone presenting himself or herself as a witch, Wiccan or Pagan. Movies featuring witches should open the viewers mind, not close them.
Ironically, what is needed as an "ideal" witch movie has gained a certain popularity over the past decade: a well funded, produced and professionally edited documentary. I envision the start of a coven, from
its formative days to its fully-organized, large-scale group rituals. And no element of the witch's life should be spared. The business end, the political end, the practical side, matters of organization, religion, and personal interplay with both those within and those without should be examined. It is only through such a project that the greater populace could begin to overcome the rising tide of deceit and misdirection that is sweeping this country from the inside out.
Of course, such an endeavor would be largely ignored in light of the popularity of fictional plots with twists, turns and bizarre (if not downright gory) action. If the time ever comes that the "ultimate" witch movie is made, it probably won't catch on as well as some of the more extreme, albeit false, portrayals have. For the most part, witches are ordinary people, quietly doing extraordinary things. The plot of such a movie would, of necessity, be rather bland. It might be a love story, a mystery, or an adventure, but it would very unlikely be a horror story, involving overly dramatic spells that cause storms, earthquakes, or harm to others.
Perhaps the best resolution of the problem is for moviemakers to leave the topic of witchcraft alone, and make films about subjects they better understand.