as one of the great staples of folk horror, i feel a bit disheartened that i wasn't that into it as i was expecting. an increasingly foreboding experience, we're introduced to a seemingly idyllic and picturesque community taunting howie, the main character, with sham chases — the reversal of roles where the assumed normalcy and status quo instead takes the archetype of the interloper, persuasive and compelling to no other character present.

the conspiracy, the farse, and feeling of entrapment, isolation and inevitability is well done and together with the clash of paganism to howie's beliefs is what i was most enthralled by — especially taking into account the repugnancy the main character feels towards the foreign and peculiar scenes happening around him, that everyone else is in on something, that they know more than they tell — but overall i feel it's weak in the execution of the rest.

the horror here is that the mystery was orchestrated: when they're caught in a lie they do not sweat or show neither alarm nor uneasiness and there is no discomfort or second thoughts to the collective chosen fate of howie. it's either with great enjoyment or ambivalence that they observe him as he follows leads to frustrating conclusions, a hopeless mission, already set against him.

his pleading for reconsideration, an appeal to reason, horrified that no one questions their thinking, is done so by accusing of indoctrination — while justifying that same disapproval of deviation from the norm with his own unwavering devout religious faith. his aversion and appal at their beliefs is met and mirrored with their unconcerned and disinterest of his. howie, used to the role of authority and mainstream social status, is doomed by the communal power he underestimates of the unconventional which he does not understand.

now wait a few minutes as i go rewatch radiohead's burn the witch music video for the millionth time after 7 (!!!!) years — and also perfect time to re-read the essay on folk horror revival: field studies about this film