The Witch (2016)

If there’s a God in this story of a devout 17th century family terrorized by supernatural elements way out in the woods, He’s busy somewhere else. Satan meanwhile is all up in the joint and having a good time kidnapping children, stealing souls and making us very suspicious of what’s going on behind the creepy eyes of rabbits and goats.

This is one of those rare “respectable” horror movies that you could recommend to just about anybody. There’s no outrageous gore to upset your Aunt Peggy. There are no stupid characters doing stupid things to annoy your cousin Horace. It’s well-made enough to appease your boring film snob co-worker Todd who thinks that most horror movies are “tepid” and “overwrought”. It’s got a keen eye for period details that might earn the respect of your old American history college instructor Professor Gilderhoff. Even lowly unpaid trash movie reviewer hack Jason thinks it’s pretty good for its storm cloud atmosphere and careful build-up of tension (even if it is a tad too slow at times).

Another good thing about this movie (for us aging creeps, at least): As your jaw drops over how beautiful the family’s oldest daughter is and you start to feel awkward about it because, in the movie, she seems to be about 14, know that you can relax because actress Anya Taylor-Joy was born in the year of Our Lord 1996, which means she was probably 18 when this was made and you are in the clear. Blame it on the old-fashioned Puritan costumes. They make everyone look either much older or much younger. That’s what I tell myself, at least.