Rather than either recapitulating the political finger-wagging that usually accompanies depictions of religious hysteria (best exemplified in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible) or simply exploiting witchcraft for its shock value, the film burrows deep into both genuine spiritual horror and the manner in which abject fear divides us (which is a real political lesson for our current divided culture).
At least since Marion L. Starkey’s 1949 study The Devil in Massachusetts (an inspiration for Arthur Miller’s The Crucible), pop culture has taken a more Freudian view of Puritan-era witchcraft sagas, putting the blame on patriarchs whose fear of women’s sexuality becomes rage against female self-expression (or, with Miller, McCarthyist hysteria).
The intention seems to have been to stake out a patch of land adjacent to The Crucible’s superstitious terrain and thereupon cultivate something a little more genre-minded: the closest reference point would be M. Night Shyamalan ’s maligned The Village, albeit without the crackerbarrel twist.
But whereas most fiction surrounding the Witch Trials (most notably Arthur Miller’s The Crucible) focuses on the power of hysteria to convince even the most pragmatic people that such nonsense is true, Eggers chooses to dig deeper, questioning the bedrock of such hysteria.
Just as easily, however, given the film’s self-advertised stabs at historical accuracy, one could read this singular shocker as something even more disturbing: a kind of fright-flick answer to Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, presenting a revisionist national history in which true evil exists and religious hysteria is the proper response to it.
This will help your ear accept speech that can sound as wooden as anything in Arthur Miller's The Crucible, but that occasionally erupts with rich, ornate verbosity.