A quarter of a century is a long time to take off from a genre, when it\u2019s the one you\u2019re perhaps most lovingly associated with as a filmmaker. It\u2019s been 25 years since the last time writer-director Chuck Russell spun a horror yarn \u2026 and even then, the film in question was 2000\u2019s critically reviled Bless the Child, one of the few of its era to have not received some kind of postmortem \u201cthis is secretly a hidden gem!\u201d treatment from Letterboxd tastemakers. Given that, it\u2019s entirely reasonable for the average film\/horror geek to be a little leery of Russell reemerging (though he\u2019s been directing indie projects again since the mid-2010s) to tackle a remake of 1986\u2019s minor cult classic Witchboard of all things. It\u2019s only natural to ask the obvious question: Does the guy still have it?<\/p>\n
It\u2019s a pleasure to report that the answer, for the most part, is yes\u2013the reimagined Witchboard is relentlessly entertaining, nasty in its misanthropic delight in messing with its characters, stylishly put together, and unexpectedly sexy to boot. Deeply silly but more narratively ambitious than one would likely expect, it\u2019s bursting (honestly overstuffed) with ideas and cinematic verve, taking advantage of a slightly longer runtime to really venture into increasingly bonkers metaphysical territory as it draws on and creates new cinematic tropes for movies about witches.<\/a> As long as the viewer can roll with a little tonal drift, it\u2019s easy to appreciate Russell\u2019s still sharp sense of humor, his panache, and the deliciously arch performance of Stranger Things star Jamie Campbell Bower in particular, who brings the kind of gravitas to a villain performance that you might have expected to get out of Vincent Price in the 1970s or Jeffrey Coombs in the 1980s.<\/p>\n Perhaps it should be no big surprise to see Russell thrive again with horror material, but considering the true chasm that exists between the present year and his most cherished genre works\u20131987\u2019s all-time slasher sequel A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors<\/a> and 1988\u2019s squelchy sci-fi FX extravaganza The Blob<\/a>\u2013it\u2019s a pleasant thrill to see him back in such form. And indeed, Russell does consider Witchboard as the third, long-delayed part in a trio<\/a> of horror reimaginations that includes those two previous titles. And unlike some of his other more recent work, this one feels like it has the budget, the imagination and the passion to stand alongside those classics.<\/p>\n Witchboard begins its reimagination of the material by ditching the title object in question: The 1986 film was a progenitor of the \u201chaunted\/evil Ouija board\u201d subgenre, but several Hollywood forays in that direction meant that Russell would need a new focal point for his story. He finds it in the concept of the pendulum board\u2013a circular board in which the user calls upon a supernatural presence to move a dangling object or chain toward various markings and writings, thus revealing the answer to one\u2019s questions. The board in question belonged to a 17th century French witch by the oddly Lovecraftian-sounding name of Naga Soth (Antonia Desplat), executed after seeking supernatural revenge against Bishop Grogan (David La Haye), the hypocritical false man of god who is implied to have abused her behind closed doors. In this way we establish our witch as both antagonist and revisionist antihero seeking justified payback, echoing something like the treatment of the witch in Leigh Janiak\u2019s Fear Street trilogy,<\/a> and certainly better established than the half-baked, nonsensical attempt at a similar turn in last year\u2019s House of Spoils<\/a>. When the titular board ends up in the hands of fiancees Emily (Madison Iseman) and Christian (Aaron Dominguez), two budding restaurateurs preparing to open an upscale cafe in New Orleans, we can quickly see that Emily will fall under its influence, becoming a tool of vengeance from beyond the grave \u2026 but perhaps someone also has intentions to manipulate our witch as well?<\/p>\n In its first half, Witchboard is largely content to deliver on expected supernatural horror tropes\u2013the persistent cat motif unsurprisingly results in not just one but multiple instances of the hoary \u201cit was only a cat\u201d<\/a> fakeout, but you couldn\u2019t ask for a better animal performance regardless. What propels Witchboard here is its visual stylishness and slick editing, whether in clever transitions that play with viewer perspective, or the use of reflections (such as on shiny copper kitchen pots and pans) to follow an otherwise invisible witchy presence, or the effective humor of foreshadowing over-the-top bloodshed to come, as in a shot of trays of gleaming steaknives being delivered to restaurant patrons when we already have a good idea of exactly how they\u2019re going to be used. Perfectly amused by it all is the aforementioned Jamie Campbell Bower as occult expert Alexander Babtiste, the man seemingly pulling all the strings with thespian \u00e9lan. Bower has the air of a star about him, a magnetism and suave, velvety voice that pairs well with a haughty sense of arrogance.<\/p>\n In its back half, however, Witchboard breaks free from any expected trajectory, growing more ambitiously zany with a story that goes as far as to thrust its characters\u2019 souls and identities across time and space, rather than confining them to the (more affordable) present day. At the same time, it does lose track of any pretense of its formerly macabre mood in the final 20 minutes of supernatural melodrama, giving up on any attempt to genuinely frighten its audience and instead embracing heightened supernatural action and over-the-top performances from the likes of Iseman and Bower. It\u2019s a fair trade, and the film works well on a wavelength that is at times a hair or two away from camp. One thing remains constant: Witchboard\u2019s ridiculously potent sexual energy and air of eroticism, which make it quite an unconventional standout in a genre that has grown increasingly staid in recent years. This is the most purely horny wide release horror film I\u2019ve seen in years upon years, filled with a menagerie of extremely hot people who look like they all want to jump each other at every possible moment, whether or not it makes any particular sense. In the sexless horror world, it\u2019s refreshing in an absurd sort of way.<\/p>\n The end result is a handsome, old-fashioned spook show crossed with a sexy, metaphysical revenge tale, resulting in a joyous mixed bag of effective scares and pure cheese. It\u2019s perhaps reminiscent of nothing so much as a film like Sam Raimi\u2019s Drag Me to Hell, without as many overt gags or an eating disorder subtext, but plenty of grisliness to match Raimi\u2019s comical gross-out proclivities. Whether it\u2019s delivering comically gory, Final Destination-style death scenes or an impossibly beautiful supermodel actress proclaiming that her thesis was on \u201cshamanistic traditions,\u201d Witchboard is unified by a wry sense of absurd humor and a loving appreciation for genre handiwork, enlivened by above-average technical production from Russell\u2019s team. The spell it casts is more than strong enough for a rewardingly silly night at the movies.<\/p>\n Director:<\/b> Chuck Russell Jim Vorel is Paste\u2019s Movies editor and resident genre geek. You can follow him on Twitter<\/a> or on Bluesky<\/a> for more film writing.<\/p>\n\n
Writers:<\/b> Chuck Russell, Greg McKay
Stars:<\/b> Madison Iseman, Aaron Dominguez, Jamie Campbell Bower, Melanie Jarnson, Charlie Tahan, Antonia Desplat
Release date:<\/b> Aug. 14, 2025<\/p>\n