HoopTober 8: Mosquito Takes Mandragon

Movie 58
3rd of 4 folk horror films

Look, the last thing I want to do is get everyone down. But if I'm going to talk about this movie, we need to address the elephant in the room. In case you haven't been paying attention over the last hundred years or so, human beings basically suck. Sure we're the most advanced and intelligent species ever to walk the earth, but we're also the biggest assholes.

I reference the last hundred years because there is so much evidence there supporting my claim. But here's the really depressing thing: in comparison with the rest of human history, the last hundred years are like a shining golden age of enlightenment and civilisation. Before the 20th century we were really bad.

If you ever find yourself in an optimistic moment about the human condition, a viewing of Witchhammer will remind you of all this. This film is a masterful distillation of all the horror that we are capable of inflicting on each other, and rather than explore that as a fantasy where the horrors are inflicted by a mythical - or at least improbable - force of evil (which is what most horror films do), it presents the horror as an inevitable consequence of all our human foibles: greed, fear, cowardice and, chief among them, basic human stupidity.

I think the most important lesson from all history's darkest moments is that we should never forget humanity's seemingly infinite capacity to blindly follow power. There is a parallel here too regarding the ease with which any random idiot can claim such power for themselves. Our recent political experience on this planet is rife with examples of this - spout your simplistic, base philosophies loud enough (i.e. find an amplifier like a collusive media mogul, for instance) and you will attract millions of followers. And when I say idiot, I'm not dismissing the threat - a certain animal cunning is more than enough. These forces only need to be good at attracting followers and making noise - they can be incompetent at everything else e.g. governing.

[Insert your appropriate political figure here]

Anyway, our random idiot in Witchhammer is Mr Boblig (Vladimír Šmeral) - an incompetent innkeeper on hard times whose reputation as an effective malleus maleficarum is nevertheless remembered by local priest Father Schmidt (Eduard Cupák), who has decided (here's our first bit of basic human stupidity) that the simple theft of a communion wafer by an old woman who thought it might make her cow produce milk again is in fact evidence of rampant witchcraft in the town. Boblig can't believe his luck when the local magistrate re-employs him as an Inquisitor. His animal cunning is more than up to the task of realising how to preserve his newfound status and wealth (keep finding witches) and the local authorities (most egregiously the local Dame) are both too uncaring of the plight of the peasants initially targeted and too stupid to see that the fire of Boblig's greed is building unstoppably (to the point where no one is going to be safe from his murderous escapades) for them to do anything to stop him.

And so what we have here is an example of state sanctioned mass murder, to the point where even the people who started it end up being consumed by it. There's more than enough evil to go around, the banality of the Dame's and the Court's evil doesn't make them any less responsible for the deaths of all these innocent people, but Boblig is our mass-murderer in chief. Calling to mind Vincent Price's role in The Witchfinder General, he's a different kind of horror monster: he lacks the supernatural trappings of most but his utter believability makes him far more terrifying than any slasher villain or actual demon.

This is not an easy film to watch. Although it possibly dials down the on-screen gore in comparison to some of the more genre-inhabiting films on the subject of witch-trials like The Witchfinder General, Mark of the Devil or Paul Naschy's super-lurid shocker, Inquisition, the visceral impact feels even more sickening. It just feels a little more real. And the escalation of the drama and horror is so intricately navigated, it's all imbued with an overpowering sense of fatalism - you can see where this is going to end up and all your most dread-filled expectations will be met.

Immaculate period detail, wonderful cinematography by Josef Illík, and wonderful performances by Vladimír Šmeral (his name makes me think of Smeagol, and his Boblig is almost like a version of Gollum if he was ever put in charge) and particularly from Elo Romančík as the other local priest, Lautner - the voice of reason who struggles against the crimes being perpetrated in the name of his God. Romančík is fantastic, exuding gravitas and charisma - his star power is undeniable. Which makes his relative obscurity as an actor so puzzling to me: he has over 30 film credits, but a quick look on this site shows them to be incredibly obscure ones - the next one on the list has been seen by 4 people on Letterboxd, for instance. I was hoping he might show up in other Czech New Wave films, but it looks like I'd have to dive deep to encounter him again.

This is an impressive achievement. I haven't seen The Witchfinder General (the obvious point of comparison) for quite a while so I need to rewatch it, but my initial impression is that this is the superior film. But I tell you what, I'm not at all sure I will rewatch this one much - this is gruelling stuff.