Sunday 17 December 2017

Glad I'm not a Puritan, and other Sunday reflections.

(I watch a lot of movies when I'm sick, okay?)

I haven't been going to church much and this week Sam quarantined me, saying I could miss the candle-lighting and the Christmas carols in advance of next week's Moon & Stars (outdoor) Christmas Eve service so that I don't make the rest of the congregation sick with my cold, now a roller coaster of really great days and really bad moments mixed together

So I stayed in bed and watched The Witch on Netflix and wow. What a lot of hype. I will give them a couple of points, as the sound design was epic and the tension so tight you could twang it like a fork, but the heavy-handed puritan babbling that never stopped (obviously hugely central to the plot) and the ending people describing all over the internet as a 'big payoff' were just not cool.

They could have prayed less and explained more in actual dialogue. I watched it with headphones and I didn't know why the family was banished until I read a synopsis but apparently the father explains it in his prayers. Great. I guess I need BETTER headphones. I can't see how being in a theater or having perfect hearing would have helped in this case, especially after polling my friends with perfect hearing who saw it and also had no idea what they did to be banished because they couldn't hear the details either.

Also the ending is not a big payoff. It's not a twist nor is it the least bit satisfying. I kind of honestly spent everything after the first ten minutes staring at my laptop in horror because it fires off on all cylinders, letting you know that in exchange for that quiet suspense you'll bear witness to a whole host of uncomfortable and sometimes beyond violent exchanges that will leave you wishing you never saw it. It just isn't good enough of a movie to justify the shock value and I want my ninety minutes back and the ending is a predictable cop-out of the highest degree.

At least it was free.

But then again, so is Jesus. And I promise he doesn't actually demand that level of devotion. I'm pretty sure that was the scariest part of the movie to me. Seriously.

(Presbyterians are going to email me their rage now, you watch.)

(Also: when did Netflix start cutting the credits off completely before bouncing back to the splash screen? Shame, indeed.)