Heresy
by Hope Madden
I’m really enjoying the evolution of the witch movie. There was a time when you either had 1) evil witches out to damn the souls of all in their view, or 2) evil men damning innocent women with claims of witchcraft. But lately, there seem to be other ideas. Like, what if choosing witchcraft over religion is actually the best option?
Credit Robert Eggers for getting the push started with his 2015 masterpiece The VVitch. Saïd Belktibia’s Hood Witch (2023) tangled the natural female versus patriarchal male threads with the complications and complicity of capitalism, further blurring right from wrong. And now Didier Konings wonders whether the morally superior choice is to disappear into the woods to commune with the fae.
Konings sets his latest, Heresy, in a medieval Dutch village. Frieda (Anneke Sluiters) awakens to find she’s started her period again. Still not pregnant. Sluiters’s despondent look tells you all you need to know.
In fact, Konings relies on gestures, glances, and weighty expressions to tell a lot of his tale of religion versus nature, male versus female. Heresy runs barely more than an hour, but it doesn’t feel skimpy. You learn what you need to know when Sasha (Nola Elvis Kemper), her throat and writes purple with bruises, is required by priest and community to forgive Gelo (Léon van Waas) as they release him from the cramped wooden cage in the village center. And again, when Hikko (Len Leo Vincent) chastises Frieda for referring to her barrenness as “their problem.”
And when Frieda has no choice but to run from Gelo into the dark, forbidden forest, who would blame her for wanting to return?
Heresy is not heavy on horror, but what Konings delivers is memorable. Like the balance of the film, the horror is primarily implied. But when we do see something, it’s quite something.
As is Sluiters’s performance. She covers an enormous emotional range with very little dialog to support her. Her chemistry with the ensemble and her physical performance, particularly the way every indignity hangs on her expression, are captivating. Her rage, when it finally breaks the surface, is glorious.
Heresy probably could have used a little more time to fill out its story, but at 61 minutes, it certainly doesn’t outstay its welcome. Konings gives you want you need to understand why women choose the bear.
