DAUGHTERS OF WITCHES: FILM REVIEW
Generational rituals — even when they’re as spooky as the one in Faride Schroeder’s short film Daughters of Witches — have a strange tendency to stand their ground across time. In a span of eleven minutes, Daughters of Witches explores the mystery, fear, and calamity surrounding certain ritualistic practices, no matter how outdated they may seem.
At the center of Daughters of Witches is a woman named Clara (Yalitza Aparicio) who brings her newborn to Mexico to participate in a sacred family ritual held in the woods. The film opens with a phone conversation between the woman and what we presume is her husband, as he tries to dissuade her from putting their newborn through the practice, which he views as dangerous. “It’s not okay to leave a baby in the wild,” he says. “Yes, I know. But I think it’s safe. In my family, everyone does it,” Clara rebuts. She hangs up for another incoming call and as the phone line cuts off, it is clear that Clara has made up her mind.
Daughters of Witches is not eerie in the sense that there are jump scares or even terrible suspense. Much of its unsettling effect is derived from the camerawork, which continuously picks up on strange details in every frame. When Clara is on the phone, a cluster of moths swarm around a bright light, like birds flocking together. Her family’s house is decorated with memorabilia spanning generations and is illuminated only by candles. They softly chant around the powerful Mama Goya, their deceased grandma, while spreading incense around the room. According to legend, Mama Goya can fix anything — her blessing is highly sought after particularly for the newborn ritual. “We’re going to be watching her. It’s just for a little while and that’s it,” Clara’s mom reassures her.
The second half of the short film takes place deep in the ominous woods. The women in the community warmly fill the hollowed-out outdoor space, guided only by synchronized chants and glowing candles. They are all drawn to a particular bed of grass, where the ritual always takes place. The women spread their arms, opening them up to the skies above, hoping to cast their desired presence. The film’s soundtrack elevates this tension with steady drum beats and sounds of heavy breathing. Clara softly lays her baby onto the ground, wrapped warmly in a vanilla cloth blanket that is meant to protect her. I won’t spoil the ending, but in many ways, it does.
The release of Daughters of Witches comes just in time for Halloween, as part of Hulu’s “Huluween” series. Aparicio wields her character as a strong and relentless heroine whose fearfulness refuses to unground her, despite it taking the form of shadows across her face. Schroeder’s Daughters of Witches is a simple meditation on rituals and those we call upon when we practice them — whether we intend to or not.