Hammer Horror films usually strike with the force of a mallet: all-out exercises in suspense, sadism, bloodshed and excitement. By contrast, THE WITCHES is an atypical Hammer movie which shares the same kind of colourful tableau but a film whose thrills turn out to be decidedly anaemic, hitting with all the effect of a rubber hammer.
Now, I don't mind subtlety, but something doesn't sit right with this film. The normally reliable Nigel Kneale doesn't seem to have his heart in the material, hence the way it all turns very silly towards the end. The film it most resembles is the black-and-white chiller, NIGHT OF THE EAGLE, but that's a classy and atmospheric masterwork in comparison to this lukewarm outing.
There are things that keep you watching here, of course; there always are in a Hammer Horror. I particularly liked the depiction of rural village life in the 1960s; it's picture postcard stuff, the sort of thing to make me nostalgic for a time I never actually knew. A shame, then, that the conspiracy storyline is so insipid and slow-moving; THE WICKER MAN this ain't! Imported Hollywood starlet Joan Fontaine is good value for money, but even she can do little with either the material or her histrionic character. I ended up playing spot-the-actor with the likes of Michele Dotrice and Leonard Rossiter in an attempt to pass the time; unfortunately, this really is that dull.
Now, I don't mind subtlety, but something doesn't sit right with this film. The normally reliable Nigel Kneale doesn't seem to have his heart in the material, hence the way it all turns very silly towards the end. The film it most resembles is the black-and-white chiller, NIGHT OF THE EAGLE, but that's a classy and atmospheric masterwork in comparison to this lukewarm outing.
There are things that keep you watching here, of course; there always are in a Hammer Horror. I particularly liked the depiction of rural village life in the 1960s; it's picture postcard stuff, the sort of thing to make me nostalgic for a time I never actually knew. A shame, then, that the conspiracy storyline is so insipid and slow-moving; THE WICKER MAN this ain't! Imported Hollywood starlet Joan Fontaine is good value for money, but even she can do little with either the material or her histrionic character. I ended up playing spot-the-actor with the likes of Michele Dotrice and Leonard Rossiter in an attempt to pass the time; unfortunately, this really is that dull.