Witchboard

Chuck Russell’s Witchboard is a redo of the 1986 cult favourite of the same name and its sequels. Russell’s directorial canon includes a redo of The Blob. What starts as a familiar haunted object quickly morphs into a horror thriller seasoned with foodie culture, recovery trauma, and more than a dash of Final Destination-style mayhem. This is the occult revival of a franchise in step with what some studios are doing now for a new audience.

The film opens with an intense, stylized prologue set in the 1700s of a cult ritual gone wrong, where a witch, played by Antonia Desplat, doing her best young Barbara Steele impression, meets her fate at the hands of Bishop Grogan (David La Haye). The cursed object in question is a wooden pendulum spirit board that absorbs her blood, establishing a legacy of malevolence. Segue to modern-day New Orleans, where the cursed board is discovered by Emily (Madison Iseman), a former addict rebuilding her life with her fiancé, restaurateur Christian (Aaron Dominguez). The two of them are currently preparing to open an organic café in the French Quarter.

The present-day horror unfolds not in the graveyards of Mario Bava style or stormy Blumhouse modern homes, but in the kitchen chaos of a start-up restaurant. It’s an odd but effective different setting channelling the television series The Bear and Gordon Ramsey’s Hell’s Kitchen. The picture uses the frantic, overheated pressure of kitchen life to mirror Emily’s mounting paranoia and descent. The chopping block becomes literal.

The supernatural set-pieces carry the spirit of Final Destination, delivering some moments with editing and stylish framing courtesy. A kitchen meat slicer becomes an executioner. A malfunctioning walk-in freezer turns into a death trap. The blend of domestic utility and demonic influence is a distinction that is ironic in today’s foodie culture, to which many aspire.

“…the cursed board is discovered by Emily, a former addict rebuilding her life with her fiancé, restaurateur Christian.”

The world of the kitchen is interspersed with flashbacks involving an inquisitor and features torture reminiscent of the classic Witchfinder General. There are more than a few setpieces with Emily that resemble Nightmare on Elm Street, which Russell directed the third segment of. This time, you have the attacking furniture and a shower that transports one into a different world. The standout moment is the banquet, where inflected fruit is served to people, transforming them into an orgy of desires and bloody violence, even directed at a food critic who comes to review the restaurant. The climax features some gun violence and fisticuffs that do their level best to look menacing.

Iseman is happy and perky, as are most of the people in the picture. Her brush with the supernatural is laced with the metaphor of relapse addiction to substances that isn’t fully developed. Aaron Dominguez is well-meaning, yet the part is undercooked. He seems to be played upon by others. This is particularly true in his scenes with Mel Jarnson, who is ex-lover Brooke, and Jamie Campbell Bower’s Alexander Baptiste, who is the decadent, all-knowing, nefarious occult. He seems to have the most fun in the kitchen scenes, arguing about gumbo seasoning and wondering why employees are giggling silly in the middle of serving food.

The new Witchboard is ambitious and fun at times, an overcooked horror revival with a blending addiction allegory, foodie satire, and supernatural spectacle. The work proves that even the most familiar horrors can taste different when served with different seasonings. Russell has served up a spirited and stylish horror throwback with culinary flair.