Witchfinder General (1968)

Lust and Greed were his only Gods...

And now for something different. Witchfinder General (1968). I watched the thing with Venetia last night — or at least she humoured me, as her idea of fun is a technicolor job starring Cary Grant (or her guilty secret, The Real Housewives of New York City). 

When I explained to her that David Pirie, the critic, considers Witchfinder General to be, I quote, ‘one of the most personal and mature statements in the history of British cinema’ she raised a manicured eyebrow. The late Derek Malcolm also lists it in his Top 100 ‘most artistically or culturally important’ films of the 20th century. Alex Cox, on the other hand, reckons it’s a ‘fairly routine Price horror film.’ I’m somewhere in the middle, probably more with Cox than with the others for this one. 

To cut a short story long, Vincent stars as Matthew Hopkins, The Witchfinder General (‘lust and greed were his only gods’). Now this bit is true, sort of — although the historical facts are a trifle hazy. During the English Civil War, Matthew Hopkins (the son of a Puritan minister) went on a sort of progression around East Anglia, accusing people of witchcraft, leading to subsequent executions by hanging (‘evil was spawned at a time of strife for the land...’). For which, of course, he received payment. And from a 17th century point of view, Witchfinder General’s history is decidedly dodgy. In England, witches were executed by hanging, not burnt at the stake — that was the sort of thing they did on the European continent and in Scotland.

Although Vincent considered his ‘pared’ down performance ‘the greatest of his career’, he’s still deliciously hammy; splendidly camp — actually incredibly funny. And Ian Ogilvy (bizarrely) stars as a Roundhead (‘he stood alone against the forces of Devilish destruction...’). There’s also an extraordinary sex scene featuring ‘lusty wench’ Hilary Dwyer (late of Hadleigh fame). And Patrick Wymark steals the show as Oliver Cromwell. Warts and all.

So why all the fuss? Twenty five year old Michael Reeves, the director — an Old Radleian wunderkind, Swinging London’s child auteur — helpfully died of an accidental drugs overdose a few months after the film came out. And he clearly had talent, turning a rather routine low-budget horror film, along Hammer lines, into something interesting (despite the ‘Day for Night’), capturing East Anglia’s fields and parks, its bleak expanse and open skies. Very flat, Suffolk. The ending is genuinely shocking. Even nihilistic.

Witchfinder General, Dir: Michael Reeve, Tigon British (1968), alas, is currently unavailable to download on Amazon Prime, but it can be found on YouTube. There are various editions on DVD and a rather tasty digitally remastered Special Edition (2011) on both DVD and Blue-Ray. Plus an unsavoury vintage paperback tie-in from Pan.