WITCH HUNT. Fantasy crime about witches & wizards in 1950s

Paul Schrader has given cinema many legendary films—Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, The Last Temptation of Christ. However, most of the timeless fame associated with these titles has been claimed by their directors, leaving Schrader, as a screenwriter, in the shadows. Yet, he has also directed his own films, though he never managed to surpass the fame of the scripts he wrote for others. Despite this, his directed films possess a unique and unmistakable style, and alongside Cat People, Witch Hunt, starring Dennis Hopper, stands as a prime example of this.

If you’re open to a film that playfully embraces Chandler-esque detective stories, low-budget special effects, an oddly mismatched soundtrack, and an eclectic mix of genres and seemingly contradictory stylistic elements, then Witch Hunt, still available on YouTube, is for you. It offers just over an hour and a half of adventure-fantasy packed with references to classic horror films, noir cinema, and comedy.

This rich blend is precisely where Witch Hunt draws its strength. On the one hand, it exudes the aesthetics of cheap ‘90s cinema, yet at the same time, it evokes an older cinematic era. The world it presents is filled with magic—manifesting in obvious ways, such as levitating objects without touching them or conjuring prophecies through spells. The plot is also filled with whimsical elements: certified witches, a clan of non-magical politicians waging war against magic, and a protagonist who, for some reason, fears using it. His name is Phillip Lovecraft, he wears awful blazers, and he is played by Dennis Hopper. He is a private detective who takes on bizarre cases, stubbornly solving them with purely physical methods. Fortunately, he has a witch as an ally, who can conjure up a few tricks of her own.

Reading about the film’s magical elements, you might find it hard to believe that Witch Hunt maintains a coherent narrative without becoming laughably bad—but it does. The magic is seamlessly woven into the story, and while the effects are often cheap and frequently used, they pull the viewer deeper into Lovecraft and Schrader’s strange world. Initially, the film feels comedic, but when the demonic Julian Sands enters the scene, the tone shifts to something darker, more erotic, and even genuinely unsettling. And, of course, there’s the raven.

The non-magical core of the plot is quite simple, meaning more discerning viewers might accuse Witch Hunt of relying too much on style over substance. Schrader’s films have sometimes faced similar criticism due to his distinctive approach to drama. He has always favored dramatic tension and a slow, deliberate pace—he’s not a filmmaker known for high-octane action. Witch Hunt won’t captivate audiences with its intensity, even though it runs for just over 90 minutes.

As for the story, the protagonist is hired by a famous actress to investigate whether her husband is being faithful. The problem? The husband is murdered, and the prime suspect is none other than his wife—Kim Hudson, played brilliantly by Penelope Ann Miller. Lovecraft’s investigation leads him into the depths of peculiar magic, secret societies, and even politics, which plays a significant role in the film’s world. I should mention that Hollywood itself is a crucial part of the narrative. Magic doesn’t just seep into the everyday lives of its users but also into the film industry.

At this point, I find myself wishing Witch Hunt were longer—or better yet, that Detective Lovecraft had been given an entire film series, executed with a much higher budget than this and its predecessor, Cast a Deadly Spell, directed by Martin Campbell. In that earlier film, a much more comedic version of Lovecraft was played by the far less comedic Fred Ward—even compared to Dennis Hopper. Still, it worked brilliantly. I can only imagine what a modern take on this magical world might look like today, with a protagonist who ultimately finds himself forced to embrace his own hidden magical potential. I hope someone revisits this concept.

Witch Hunt contains many scenes that are simply impossible to dream up. Take, for instance, the murder of Kim’s husband—carried out through shrinking magic and two dogs. It sounds horrifying, yet the execution is genuinely funny—without being ridiculous. Or the raven, staring at the protagonist with a worm in its beak, watching and watching until he falls asleep, making the audience feel as though something ominous is about to happen at any moment. There’s also the eerie house, magically growing breasts, and, of course, the film’s climactic scene: Julian Sands seamlessly transforming from a dog into a man, and a raven flying out of Lovecraft’s mouth like an arrow straight toward someone’s eye… What happens next? You’ll have to find out for yourself.

I hope this modest description gives you a sense of what to expect from Witch Hunt—a title that, in all honesty, should have been Hunting Witches, which would better reflect the essence of the story.