SXSW 2021: WOODLANDS DARK AND DAYS BEWITCHED gets lost in the brambles of folk horror
Written and directed by Kier-La Janisse
Runtime: 3 hours 14 minutes
Currently playing SXSW
by Ryan Silberstein, Managing Editor, The Red Herring
I did not know that Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror had a runtime of over 3 hours when I hit play on the film. I want to put that out there, both as a note of caution and to note that it is also the film’s biggest issue. In an era where streaming services are trying to keep eyeballs on their screens as much as possible, there is room for documentaries like this one and In Search of Darkness, which takes a similar approach to the 80s slasher, clocking in at four and a half hours. What I question is the approach to having one long unbroken film rather than break it up into episodes by topic? I’m not sure if this stems from the way these documentaries are conceived and financed or not. If there is a reason for this approach from a creative standpoint, it is opaque to me. But I wanted to get that question out before digging into the actual documentary itself.
As a horror newbie who has found films to love in this subgenre with recent films like The VVitch and Midsommar as well as a few classics like the original Wicker Man, my interest in the documentary was centered around finding films to add to my watchlist, and learning more about the origins of folk horror and and themes it often taps into. Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched delivered on both of those. The film starts with a trio of British films that helped define the genre: Witchfinder General (1968), The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971), and The Wicker Man (1973). These films are tied to counterculture of the time and the overall dissatisfaction of modern life.
From there, the film catalogues the various sources of inspiration for folk horror, like the ghost stories of the English writer M.R. James, and how they change as they move across world cultures. American folk horror often relies on the “old Indian burial ground trope,” as seen in the works of Stephen King, and Australian takes have similar ideas around their native populations. A lot of Japanese horror is rooted in folktales, and as the film goes on, the idea of what the subgenre is seems even more nebulous as it continues to expand.
Ultimately, one of the people interviewed compares folk horror to a mode of music more than a genre. I think that makes sense, as there is not a rigid premise or construction to folk horror like there is to slashers or zombie films. The evil could come from unearthed pagan ritual sites, aristocrats trying to go back to the old ways, or nature itself. It can also cross over genres with cults, ghosts, or any other kind of horror threat. The keys are in that the threat comes from a time before and there is some sort of isolation in the environment.
Despite its length, Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror is engaging the whole way through, in part because it threads together things that don’t seem connected, like Candyman and Doctor Who, and shows the common fears between them. The interviewees chosen to appear in the film are also engaging and the pieces are stitched together well. The other benefit from breaking the film up would be retention. As one long document, the film is maybe too much to take in all at once, but at least on your couch you can pause to add an interesting-looking film to your watchlist.