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| A still from Hӓxan (1922) |
Ah yes, blog entry number one: it’s like the first day of class, where you nervously introduce yourself to your equally tense classmates, all in the spirit of educational brotherhood. As with most of my class introductions, I’m struggling with what to say. I can debate movies with little difficulty, yet I find it difficult to quickly sum up even the minute details about my major, minor, favorite ice cream, job motivations, what have you. I’ve always been slow to warm up to new things, but once I do, I get it done, so to speak. So in the spirit of this assignment, allow me to introduce myself and with any luck, I’ll be spouting off about the very thing that brought you here to begin with: films!
I’m Billy Goodheart and I’m a senior in my final semester at Rider University in Lawrenceville, New Jersey. I’m studying English with a concentration on writing, with a minor in Film and Media Studies. I think that you’ll find this blog to be a worthwhile read because I can analyze a movie in the abstract sense as well as examine the technical aspects. I’m fascinated with compelling characters and storylines, innuendos, gender roles, and other traits of films that require a little sleuthing in order to fully appreciate. That’s not to say that I’m a snob who despises so-called “shallow” movies; for every Rashomon I also enjoy a Freddy Got Fingered.
That said, I do enjoy films that are off-kilter, that travel away from the beaten path. Case in point: I recently watched Hӓxan, a Swedish silent film from 1922. Created by Benjamin Christensen, Hӓxan – which is Swedish for “the witch” – is a faux-documentary about the history of witchcraft. Split into seven chapters, the film uses a multitude of artwork, vignettes, and special effects that effectively create one of the most atmospheric and interesting films that I’ve ever seen. Each chapter gives a stand-alone lecture or story about witches: one chapter explains the powers of witches while another reveals – with some gruesome close ups – how to tell if someone is a witch.
Upon its release, Hӓxan was banned and censored in many countries, including the United States, which comes as no surprise considering the movie’s hefty helping of demonic imagery, nudity, possession, and torture. Of course, the horror and naughtiness depicted in Hӓxan generally seems pretty tame by today’s standards, but the visuals can still pack a punch ninety years later. I found myself particularly disturbed by the torture scenes involving an allegedly innocent old woman being interrogated by a cruel inquisitor; the close ups of the woman’s face shown in the stark contrast of black and white made her pleas and eventual confessions seem very convincing and real. Also, the set design and costumes are fantastic and recall imagery from such horror masters as H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe, to name but a few. The special effects are quite sophisticated for the time, as Christensen makes use of camera tricks such as playing film backwards and superimposition so that Hӓxan is especially persuasive in the pursuit of credibility.
I enjoyed the movie so much that I immediately purchased a Criterion copy from my job (I work at a record/movie store). Hӓxan is so utterly unique that I believe every student of film should see it. Further, I think a case can be made that the film should be added to the curriculum of one of Rider’s many film classes. Wink wink, Dr. Lucia.
