Monday, 12 March 2018

Witchcraft 666: The Devil's Mistress (1994)

Remember that bit in The Wedding Singer when Adam Sandler performs a song that was written partially before and partially after he'd had his heart broken? He cries out "somebody kill me, please", or something like that. Many of the lines are just a primal scream for love and a way to end his situation. I mention it here because it also sums up how I am currently feeling about my foolish attempt to work through the Witchcraft movie series.

This is the sixth film. I have, if I remember correctly, about another ten to go. Ten. And it's clear that they've already delivered any decent ideas and storylines within the first few films. Summarising the plot of this one is about as pointless as walking around town in my underpants, picking up leaves and throwing them into my one item of clothing, scalding myself with hot water, and offering a fresh cuppa to everyone who walks by me.

It's now the turn of Jerry Spicer to play Will Spanner, the legal eagle with a background that has already involved more corpses and magical shenanigans than both Murder, She Wrote and The Dresden Files. Spanner is approached by a couple of cops to help them find a serial killer who seems to be choosing his targets based on some specific requirements. And you get a number of softcore sexy sequences in which men slobber over boobs. That's about all I can tell you.

Director Julie Davis also co-wrote the film with Peter E. Fleming, which I imagine involved the two of them discussing how much the plot really had to make sense in between the shots of naked breasts (spoiler . . . the answer is not much). As for the technical side of things, Davis surely just asked the sound guys to try keeping the microphones out of shot, asked the lighting guys to always be ready to focus on the naked breasts, and somehow managed to convince her cast not to burst out laughing as they uttered some ridiculous dialogue (although the script is on a par with other instalments in the series).

Spicer has no charisma in the lead role, Kurt Alan and John E. Holiday do a bit better as the cops who ask for his help, Craig Stepp and Bryan Nutter are quite dire in very different ways, and Debra Beatty, Shannon McLeod, Stephania Swinney, and Jenny Bransford are all game enough to take on their thankless roles as a step towards something, anything, better down the line.

You will be able to get through this if you like seeing boobs, but that really is the only plus point to this film. And, no matter how shallow you may think yourself, gratuitous nudity alone isn't really a good enough subsitute for decent acting, decent plotting, and a decent movie experience.

2/10

The DVD costs a fortune, so buy Haxan instead.
Americans can get it on Criterion here.

Nothing to do with this film, but still the sexiest witch ever . . . Samantha!

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