Main cast: Russell Shaw (Thomas), Ryan Spong (William), Sarah Alexandra Marks (Twyla), Fabrizio Santino (Marshall), Daniel Jordan (Judge Hopkins), Mims Burton (Johanna), Nick Tuck (Gastro), and Nell Bailey (Rose)
Directors: Craig Hinde and Marc Zammit

Who says that I don’t watch new movies? Well, I made the mistake of streaming Witch, and suddenly, everything from the past 20 years of cinema looks like a masterpiece by comparison.

Set in 1575, Witch tells the tale of William, a blacksmith whose wife, Twyla (a name that surely screams “medieval authenticity”), is accused of witchcraft. Naturally, her execution looms unless William can prove she’s not the goat-sacrificing, curse-casting type by finding the real witch.

On paper, it sounds like an intriguing folk horror made by an independent team that even repurposed the set used for the Netflix adaptation of The Witcher. In execution, though, it’s… well, executed terribly.

To make matters worse, Witch moves at the pace of molasses in midwinter. The sluggish pacing turns the 90-minute runtime into a test of endurance, while the barely passable acting ensures you’re never emotionally invested in anyone’s fate. It’s the cinematic equivalent of homework: a chore you endure just to say you’ve done it.

Let’s start with the period setting. For a film so eager to transport us to the past, it somehow reeks of post-Halloween clearance sale. Everyone looks suspiciously spotless and polished, even after dashing through allegedly filthy woods. The costumes might’ve looked convincing in a high school production, but on screen? Let’s just say you’ll yearn for the realism of papier-mâché props.

The script also invites more eyerolls than suspense. William, for instance, wields fiery tools with his bare hands because, apparently, blacksmiths in 1575 had fireproof palms. The guards? Experts at letting prisoners escape because, one assumes, their off-screen union limits their daily chase quota. Then there’s the laughable moment when William castigates others for not believing that a woman clutching her parents’ decapitated heads is probably innocent. Psychic powers, or just bad writing? You decide.

And oh, the action sequences! Swords bend mid-fight like pool noodles, and you half expect someone to shout, “Cut! Let’s reset that blade!” Alas, the real cutting never came—in the editing room.

Ultimately, Witch feels less like a movie and more like a cruel prank. The only magic here is how it managed to escape the cutting room floor and land in our laps. If the goal was to make viewers laugh at its sheer absurdity, then congratulations, mission accomplished. If not, this movie deserves to be locked in the stocks alongside its hapless characters.

Skip this. It’s cursed.