In The Witch, director Robert Eggers crafts an eerie, atmospheric horror story set in 1630s New England that dives deep into fear, isolation, and religious paranoia. The film follows a devout Puritan family who has been banished from their colonial plantation. They settle on the edge of a remote, foreboding forest where their quiet life begins to unravel after their infant son mysteriously disappears under the watch of their eldest daughter, Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy). What follows is a harrowing descent into madness as the family becomes convinced that something wicked haunts them from within the forest—and perhaps even within their own ranks.

As strange occurrences plague the family—crops fail, animals act unnaturally, and a dark sense of distrust grows—the parents, William (Ralph Ineson) and Katherine (Kate Dickie), struggle to keep their faith and their sanity. Thomasin, caught between her family’s fears and the creeping sense of something sinister, becomes an easy scapegoat, as her family’s faith turns to fanaticism. Anya Taylor-Joy’s breakout performance captures the terror and innocence of a young girl slowly being drawn into forces beyond her understanding.

Eggers meticulously recreates the Puritan era, using natural lighting, period-accurate dialogue, and haunting visuals to evoke an atmosphere as suffocating as it is beautiful. The Witch relies not on jump scares but on psychological dread, using quiet tension to build a world where darkness feels omnipresent. Mark Korven’s score, a chilling mix of dissonant strings and ominous chants, deepens the film’s hauntingly oppressive tone.

The Witch is a story of innocence lost, faith corrupted, and family torn apart, exploring how fear of the unknown can drive us to our own destruction. Both visually stunning and profoundly disturbing, it’s a masterclass in slow-burn horror that immerses you in a relentless, haunting atmosphere—leaving you with a chilling question: was there ever anything in the woods, or was the evil lurking within them all along?