User Reviews

"The Witches of Pendle" does exactly what it says on the tin - a 70 minute dramatisation of one of the more famous so-called "witch trials" ever to be held in medieval England, those of the "Pendle Witches" near Colne in Lancashire which took place in 1612. Twelve men and women were accused (mainly from two families covering three generations), one died in prison awaiting trial, while of the remaining eleven, all but one were found guilty and hanged. This is a re-telling of those events, which for the period, were quite well recorded and published in 1613 as "The Wonderful Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster". My own knowledge of the "Pendle Witch Trials" somewhat lacking, I referred to Wikipedia for some background knowledge of the events leading up to the trial, which is almost word-for-word the same as how things unfold in this 1976 made-for-TV production. Even the cast have local Lancastrian accents, though Hoghton Hall near Preston doubles rather unconvincingly for Lancaster Gaol, which is a shame given how well the BBC does generally when making period drama. Certainly there is nothing wrong with the costumes, even if the "script" (for want of a better word) is poor.

It's probably worth recapping the general story of the Pendle Witches for those not in the know, which begins not that long after the Gunpowder Plot in the year 1612. James is still King, and religious tension between Catholics and Protestants is still rife. The Civil War is still to come. It all begins when a peddlar named John Law met a local woman named Alizon Device who asked for some pins. Whether Alizon intended to pay for them as she claimed, or whether she was begging is open to question, but not long after encountering her, John Law was struck down. These days, we would call it a stroke, but to 17th century simple village-folk it was a sure sign of a curse. Even Alizon seemed convinced of her "powers" as when she was taken to see Law a few days after the incident, she reportedly confessed and asked for his forgiveness. Alizon Device, her mother Elizabeth Device (daughter of Elizabeth Southerns alias Demdike), and her brother James were summoned to appear before local Justice of the Peace Roger Nowell in March 1612. When questioned about Anne Whittle (Chattox), the matriarch of another local family reputedly involved in witchcraft in and around Pendle, Alizon accused Chattox of murdering four men by witchcraft, and of killing her father, John Device, who had died in 1601. Thus many of the allegations made in the Pendle witch trials resulted from members of the Demdike and Chattox families making accusations and counter-accusations against each other. When word of a meeting at Malkin Tower of friends and sympathisers of the Demdike family, held on Good Friday 1612, reached Roger Nowell, he decided to determine the purpose of the meeting, who had attended, and what had happened there. As a result of the inquiry, several more people were arrested and accused of witchcraft. The main prosecution witness would prove to be Alice Device's younger sister Jennet, who at just nine years old was judged to be young and virtuous enough not to have sold her soul to the devil and provided evidence against her own mother Elizabeth. Alizon Device, whose encounter with John Law had triggered the events leading up to the trials, was charged with causing harm by witchcraft. Uniquely among the accused, Alizon was confronted in court by her alleged victim, John Law. She seems to have genuinely believed in her own guilt; when Law was brought into court Alizon fell to her knees in tears and confessed. She was found guilty and along with all of the other defendants save one, sentenced to death by hanging. Somewhat ironically, given her involvement in the deaths of her mother, sister and brother, historians believe that young Jennet Device may eventually have found herself accused of witchcraft as well. A woman with that name was listed in a group of 20 tried at Lancaster Assizes on 1634, although it cannot be certain that it was the same Jennet Device. In that series of trials the chief prosecution witness was a ten-year-old boy, Edmund Robinson. All but one of the accused were found guilty, but the judges refused to pass death sentences, deciding instead to refer the case to the king, Charles I. Under cross-examination in London, Robinson admitted that he had fabricated his evidence, but even though four of the accused were eventually pardoned, they all remained incarcerated in Lancaster Gaol, where it is likely that they died. An official record from 1636 lists Jennet Device as one of those still held in the prison. At this point, the "Pendle Witches" seem to disappear from the pages of history altogether, though the area around Newchurch-in-Pendle enjoys a huge tourism industry based around those events of 1612, almost exactly four hundred years ago now.

It's probably about time a production company decided to re-make the story of the Pendle Witches, as frankly, this 1976 version is quite hard to follow for those not already familiar with the bare bones of the case as outlined above. The whole thing just seems so matter-of-fact. Sure, it tells the truth such as the surviving records from the period show it to be, but nothing about the characters themselves. There's no dramatic or artistic licence to allow us to get to know any of those involved. It's just a straightforward telling of a series of events that hasn't even been put together that well. Maybe the "Pendle Witches" just aren't that interesting, but I think that any dramatisation of the trial could and should have been a lot better than this.

From the moment this begins I think it's safe to say that it shows its age in terms of its production values, and some of the choices made in terms of its construction quite belie its nature as a TV movie. More than that, whether it was choices that Barry Collins made as a screenwriter, or Anthea Browne-Wilkinson as director - or for that matter, David Jackson as cinematographer - there are some facets here that are a little gauche and bring to mind low-grade, low-budget genre fare, nearly on the level of home movies. Such shots as that stare a character in the face, or free-moving handheld camerawork that puts our perspective squarely amidst a moving crowd of people, feel less like thrusting viewers into the middle of the experience and more like inexperience and uncareful craft given the overall image quality. Still, though the presentation can be rough, including persistent use of voiceovers in multiple ways, the intent is earnest, and this is well made in other regards. 'The witches of Pendle' isn't a title that demands viewership, but it's worthwhile on its own merits and a worthy way to spend seventy-six minutes.

While the concept of witchcraft is rich for storytelling, the real-life history is broadly more horrifying than what any writer of fiction can conjure. It takes little study or critical thought to understand that accusations of witchcraft were (...are) nothing more than the manifestations of misunderstandings, prejudice, scapegoating, ignorance and archaic beliefs, cruelty, and pure misogyny. Fun as it might be to summon forth a tale of black magic and sinister doings, true, disturbing horror is found in exploring the dire persecution and humiliation, bogus trials, brutal torture, and unjust execution of the accused. And so it is here: Collins' screenplay touches upon the iniquitous motivations, poor comprehension, lack of knowledge, and faulty reasoning by which women were targeted and maligned as servants of the devil, not to mention coerced confessions and frenzied madness. These, together with the specific barbarities visited upon the victims, and the sheer ferocity and venom of the proceedings, produce a spellbinding, haunting portrait and dramatization of events in England in 1612 (in in line with censorial standards of the 70s for British television). And the picture achieves this with minimal visualization of more discrete genre elements, and more so than not just the power of scenes of dialogue and acting. And that alone speaks very well of all involved.

With that having been said, I wouldn't dare say 'The witches of Pendle' is perfect. The fact is that as it presents the telling is a tad confused, for both in word, tone, and image it struggles to communicate the nuanced differences between wry sarcasm, forced and desperate statements, wishful thinking, feelings of guilt, folk beliefs, and "genuine admission." To that point, there are whole scenes that do seem to play with the notion that the accused figures of the early seventeenth century actually were witches, controverting what the feature otherwise builds. To this add the oscillating intelligence and honesty of prosecutorial figures, inconsistently wavering on a point of both fervent superstition and doubt and disbelief. For all those times when this is firing on all cylinders and is fierce and gripping because of it, there are times when the proceedings feel much more scattered and they falter considerably. Collins needed a more concise and focused screenplay, and Browne-Wilkinson needed to be more mindful and judicious in bringing the concoction to fruition. The overall substance is readily apparent, yes, but that only makes the shortcomings all the more evident and unfortunate.

All the same, for all the rough spots and edges, there is meaningful, enduring value here. Possibly even more so than the narrative at large, the chief strength lies in the intensity of each passing scene, above all those zeroing in on the accusations, interrogation, and trial of the accused. Between the scene writing and dialogue, the direction, and not least the tight, fraught, vivid performances of the actors, these moments are sincerely distressing and resonate deeply. It would be more appropriate to call this a horror-drama, partly in that it draws familiar horror elements into a more straightforward drama, but mostly in that the feelings of horror that it elicits stem rather immediately from the straightforward drama that unfolds. Inasmuch as any title can evoke such sentiments if the story is sufficiently dark and dreary (e.g., 'Apocalypse now,' or Andrzej Wajda's 'Danton'), the same goes for this one. And that's thanks to Collins and Browne-Wilkinson, and absolutely to the cast, not least to Cathryn Harrison who very much impresses in what is effectively a lead role at only 17-years old. All on hand illustrate strong acting skills to bring the harsh energy of the material to bear, and all are to be congratulated, but Harrison maybe has a larger part than anyone else, and she totally nails it.

Rounded out with superb contributions from all those behind the scenes - sets, costume design, hair and makeup, stunts and effects - when all is said and done 'The witches of Pendle' is a solid, satisfying film. It's a rather terrific credit to all involved not just for the mere fact of their work, but for how the end result so capably inculcates impactful horror from a production that leans heavily on dialogue and acting. (Why, this could easily be adapted as a stage play, if we're being honest.) It should be repeated that some of the subtitles of the scenario get lost in the mix, enough so that the quality is distinctly diminished. Yet ultimately the quality speaks for itself, and I must commend all who participated for making the movie as flavorful, absorbing, and rewarding as it is. I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's a must-see, but for those with an appreciation for the topic it explores and the more outward corners of the genre, 'The witches of Pendle' is a splendid TV picture that deserves recognition.