Editorials
I Went to a Satanic Ritual and All I Got Was This Lousy Flag!
It’s only February and The Witch is being touted as the year’s best horror film (read Kalyn’s review from Fantastic Fest). As you may have read a few weeks ago, The Satanic Temple recently backed the film and took it on a four-city tour starting in New York, before moving on to Austin, Los Angeles and Detroit. I am lucky enough to live in Austin, where the Temple was making their third stop on the tour, so of course I jumped at the opportunity to partake in this unique experience (and it was a truly unique experience unlike any other). Interestingly enough, the Satanic Temple turns out to be the most appropriate sponsor for Robert Eggers’ terrifying horror film, and the ritual (which they called the Sabbat Ritual) was a ritualized “Convocation of the Godless” that denoted the inauguration of a “Satanic Revolution.” It was meant to “inspire a Satanic uprising against the tyrannical vestiges of bigoted superstitions, and will harken a new era of liberation and unfettered inquiry,” according to the event details.
I had already seen Robert Eggers’ film back in September at Fantastic Fest as well, and I enjoyed it immensely (not as much as Kalyn, but I still enjoyed it), but I wanted to see it a second time to let the film wash over me again. Upon a second viewing, I found myself noticing a ton of things that I didn’t catch the first time around, and I even found the film to be scarier the second time. It’s a miracle what tempered expectations can do to your opinion of a film.
Before I get to the real meat of this story, I would like to say my piece on The Witch: it is an excellent film. It is absolutely gorgeous filled with stellar performances (especially from the children). The score is haunting, the atmosphere is incredibly tense and it is quite scary. That being said, The Witch will be this year’s Babadook and It Follows. The hype tarnished my viewing experience at Fantastic Fest (not by much, but the effect was still there), so I can only imagine how much the hype has grown five months later. The Witch is a slow burn and has maybe a total of three jump scares (which is a breath of fresh air), but still manages to be incredibly tense and scary all throughout the film. Yet many people will walk out of the film claiming that it is either “boring” or “not scary.” That is inevitable, and before you go see it, I implore you to go in as blind as possible. Try not to read glowing reviews (maybe even just read the bad ones). Hopefully this will help you temper your expectations and will allow you to enjoy the film more.
Moving on, the schedule we were given for the night’s events was as follows:
6:30pm Check-in opens
6:45pm Jex Blackmore introduces screening and reminds guests of the ritual to follow.
7:00pm Screening starts at THE ALAMO DRAFTHOUSE
8:30pm Doors at THE SIDEWINDER bar open to public
9:30pm Ritual begins
The screening was held at the fabulous Alamo Drafthouse in the heart of downtown Austin. In case you didn’t know, the Alamo Drafthouse is the best movie theater in existence. Seriously though, its presence is enough to make me never want to move away. It’s that good. Anyway, I arrived, took my seat, ordered some food & booze and watched The Witch for the second time after Ms. Blackmore introduced the film.
After the screening, I took a 3-block walk to The Sidewinder, the venue for the Satanic Ritual. Just to give you a little bit of background on me: I was born and raised Catholic. I was raised to love God, worship Jesus, fear the Devil, etc. I’m almost 27, and at this point in my life I suppose I consider myself more of an agnostic, but I have a strong aversion to organized religion (it always sounds a little too cult-y to me). Nevertheless, some of those religious fears that were integrated into my mind are still there, so while I was open to the idea of attending a Satanic Ritual, I was more than a little nervous. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fear for my life at one point. I had this crazy idea that everyone present was going to get sacrificed at some point. I should have done my research on the Satanic Temple, as that did not happen and is not at all what they’re into, as you can see here. Seeing as I am not a member of the Satanic Temple, my terminology may not be correct for some of their titles. I apologize for that.
The Sidewinder is a typical Austin bar, and is probably the perfect place for a SXSW venue since it’s small and has a backyard (meaning people will be packed like sardines in this bar for that entire week).
Unfortunately, cell phones of any sort were not allowed in the bar, due to the fact that there was going to be nudity during the ritual, so I don’t have any photos that I can show off here. My words will just have to do. The Temple paid for all of our drinks, which I thought was polite (or an easy way to lower our inhibitions before they sacrificed us to Satan), and after about 30 minutes of waiting we were led to the backyard of the bar, where we were handed a small package containing a black-and-white American flag.
This flag had instructions on it:
These instructions would be repeated to us by Jex Blackmore before we were dismissed at the end of the ritual (I have not placed mine anywhere, though a friend of mine did put hers outside a bar we were at later in the evening).
On to the ritual! As I walked into the backyard of the bar, I was greeted with the sight of a stage with fog rolling off its edge. On the stage was a nude man and a nude woman, as well as three people wearing hooded robes (2 red and one black) holding a dagger and a mirror. After waiting for everyone to fill the yard (everyone on stage remained remarkably still while waiting for us), one of the men on stage began banging a large chain on a drum. This went on for several minutes, and once he was done a recording started to play.
At this point I would like to point out that there were a lot of people in this small yard and at this time I had had 3(ish) drinks in me so my attention was sort of all over the place. I will do my best to recount the events as they occurred, but I’ve never been very good at actively listening to sermons (which is what this ritual was) even when I’m 100% sober, so I have a tendency to zone out. Anyway, this recording was of one man detailing his interaction with Satanists. This recording went on (and on) for a while, until it stopped and the priestess in the black cloak (who was revealed to be Blackmore herself) began speaking about their cause, which you can read more about on their website linked to above.
As she began informing us, the nude man and woman stepped forward and then began chugging handles of “blood,” which was most likely wine (or red water). Basically, it looked like a jug of Carlo Rossi (see below). The nude female was really into it. She chugged and chugged the red liquid until it started overflowing out of her mouth and ran down her body. She was a trooper and finished it like a champ. The nude male, on the other hand, was not as into it. He wasn’t so much chugging as he was casually drinking. By the time the female finished, the male was only about halfway done.
Once the jugs were emptied, the priestess began spouting out a lot of propaganda. She mentioned many specific locations in Austin (abortion clinics, the home of right-wing governor Greg Abbott, etc.). She summarized their tenets and what the religion stands for, which is actually kind of sweet. Yes, I’m aware I just used the word “sweet” to describe the Satanic Temple. Reading over their website and listening to last night’s sermon, I can only imagine how much heckling they must receive (there were a group of religious protesters outside the Alamo Drafthouse when we left the screening.
The priestess then started to talk about how we are all bound to each other, at which point the nude man and woman stepped forward again and wrapped a large chain (the same one the gentlemen was banging on the drum at the beginning of the ritual) around their arms, literally binding them to each other. They got on their knees and faced the congregation as the priestess finished her sermon. Shouts of ‘Hail Satan!’ filled the open air as she asked everyone to take their black American flag (Satan Flag?) and place it where we thought Satan’s influence would be needed (like the aforementioned house of Governor Abbott). With that, she bid us adieu and the ritual was over.
Overall, it was an interesting experience. I admit that I did no research on the Temple or what the ritual would possible entail before I went to it, so my fears of death or ritual sacrifice were clearly unfounded. This organization doesn’t worship the Satan that Christians know. To them, Satan is “a symbol of man’s inherent nature, representative of the eternal rebel, enlightened inquiry and personal freedom rather than a supernatural deity or being.” You would think they would just call him something else, then there wouldn’t be as much hubbub about the Temple, but where’s the publicity in that?
I’m glad I got to go to the ritual and the screening, and while I can’t say I’m completely behind their cause, I do understand it. I still don’t understand organized religion, and because of that I will never be a convert, but still, I think it’s worth learning about.
If you’re super curious, more information about the Satanic Temple can be found at http://www.satanic-revolution.com/.
By the way, here’s me with my new flag:
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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