Editorials
The 13 Scariest Movie Witches!
Between the news of a remake of Roald Dahl’s The Witches, Ryan Murphy’s Coven crossover for the next season of American Horror Story, the upcoming Suspiria remake, and Netflix’s forthcoming Chilling Adventures of Sabrina series, 2018 is shaping up to be the Year of the Witch. It’s about time, too. While trends of vampires, zombies, and ghosts have all hogged the spotlight at one time or another, witches tend to exist more in the peripheral of horror. Considering the concept of witchcraft has spanned all recorded history, existing in all manner of cultures and religions, there’s a wide area of potential still waiting to be mined. Even still, there are many memorable movie witches that have etched themselves in collective memory. These 13 are the scariest witches of them all.
Grand High Witch – The Witches
The remake has very tall shoes to fill from this 1990 adaptation. Played by Anjelica Huston, the film version of the Grand High Witch was far more fierce and fearsome than the version in Dahl’s source novel. A child-murderer with genocidal ambitions, the Grand High Witch is a powerful psychopath. Her penchant to kill at whim makes everyone around her cower in fear, and yet it gets worse with the reveal of her true appearance. Monstrous inside and out, the Grand High Witch remains pure nightmare fuel for children and adults alike.
Asa Vajda – Black Sunday
A 17th-century witch in the service of Satan, her own brother condemned her to a brutal death. Of course, she cursed his family line for it. Revived two centuries later by blood, Asa wastes no time enacting vengeance. Continuing to feast on blood for sustenance, she murders Vajda family members while setting her sights on descendent Katia with the intention of stealing her youth. Played by Barbara Steele, Asa’s ruthless affinity for Satanism was very daring for its time upon release in 1960.
Witches – Haxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages
A silent documentary with fictional reenactments of witchcraft was controversial upon release in 1922 for its depiction of gore, nudity, and Satan loving witchcraft. It was an exploration of superstition of religion, delving into what created the persecution of “witches,” but director Benjamin Christensen took his time to get to the point with long, fictional sequences featuring demons, spooky rituals, and Satan himself.
Mombi – Return to Oz
For a children’s film, this one is extremely dark. Opening with Dorothy’s return home, her Aunt Em and Uncle Henry decide to bring her in for electric shock therapy. Dorothy escapes and makes her way back to Oz, which has become a very different place. The Cowardly Lion and Tin Woodman are now turned to stone, and creepy Wheelers roam free. All of this alone would be nightmare inducing for anyone, but then they introduce Princess Mombi. Mombi is an evil woman with a large collection of heads. Yes, heads. When Mombi wants to update her look, she just goes to her closet and swaps out her head with another from her collection. Dorothy’s encounter with Mombi’s head collection earns Mombi an instant ranking for scariest witch.
Meg Mucklebones – Legend
This swamp witch had a brief but memorable turn in Ridley Scott’s 1985 dark fantasy film; no small feat considering what an iconic villain Tim Curry was as the Lord of Darkness. Plucky hero Jack (Tom Cruise) encounters this witch in the middle of a swamp during his quest to save his love. Despite her horrendous appearance Jack distracts her with flattery. Who ever said flattery doesn’t get you anywhere hasn’t met Meg. This unforgettable and terrifying swamp witch was played by Robert Picardo (Gremlins 2: The New Batch, Stargate Atlantis).
The Blair Witch – The Blair Witch Project
Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez reminded audiences what could happen if audiences are kept in the dark about its villain. After delivering exposition on the legends surrounding the witch that inhabits the woods of Burkittsville, Maryland, before letting loose a trio of would-be filmmakers into her domain, the Blair Witch manages to petrify based on atmosphere and dread alone. She never even dares to make an appearance! As the trio continues to run into signs that she’s lurking nearby, before disappearing one by one, the viewer’s imagination is left to fill in the blanks. It works like a charm.
Helena Markos – Suspiria
For most of Suspiria’s run time, Helena Markos exists only as a looming shadow over the dance academy. Her presence is concealed by her coven, with Madame Blanc acting as head of the academy. By the time Suzy Bannion discovers her hidden chambers the Mother of Sighs is in a weakened state, making it much easier for Suzy to defeat the once super powerful witch. Even still, it doesn’t dampen her ability to petrify. Especially when Suzy’s schoolmates around her suffer horrible deaths at the hands of Helena’s coven.
Haggis – Pumpkinhead
Also known as the Old Witch of the Woods, Haggis is more terrifying than the vengeance demon Pumpkinhead. When a tragic accident claims the life of Ed Harley’s young son, he seeks out Haggis in the hope that she can revive him. Instead, she presented Ed with the opportunity for revenge, conducting a ritual for the demon’s summoning, while wickedly withholding just how costly Ed’s quest for justice would become. Haggis teaches a valuable lesson in reading the fine print before buying. More importantly, never make a deal with a witch.
The Castevets – Rosemary’s Baby
Witches are typically presented as monstrous women who long ago sold their services and soul to Satan; their appearances gnarly, wizened, and grotesque. Enter Minnie and Roman Castevet, the nosy but nice next-door neighbors to Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse. As affluent as they are social, with well-tailored clothes in fashionable prints and styles, they’re representative of upper-class New York. In other words, no one would suspect them of witchcraft. Their cheerful demeanor as they use Rosemary to usher in the son of Satan is alarming, but not as alarming as the fact that their ability to blend with society deconstructs the very idea of what a witch should look like.
Bathsheba Sherman – The Conjuring
In life, she was an evil woman caught red-handed trying to sacrifice her own week-old baby to the Devil. She then promptly cursed the land and hung herself. In death, Bathsheba continued her quest by possessing the mother of any that moved into her house and using them to kill their own children. If that wasn’t grisly enough, the spirits of Bathsheba’s victims are forced to remain in the house with her.
Margaret Morgan – The Lords of Salem
While there are a few witches in Rob Zombie’s film that could qualify as scary, none hold a candle to coven leader Margaret Morgan (Meg Foster). These Satanic worshipping witches are not to be trifled with. Even the small glimpses of her that haunts Heidi’s visions is enough to warrant “scariest witch” status, but the reveal that Heidi’s fate was never in her control thanks to Margaret’s curse is both tragic and horrifying. Margaret cares not for bathing, hygiene, or really anything other than ensuring she gets a vessel by which the devil’s child will inherit the earth.
The Witch in the woods – The Witch
While Robert Eggers’ film may have been more about the deterioration of an exiled New England family, the witch residing in the nearby woods was the stuff of nightmares. When baby Samuel is snatched very early in the film, we see the witch grinding up his body and rubbing his entrails all over his body. It’s chilling. When Caleb gets lost in the woods later, her seduction of him turns from skin-crawling dread to unsettling fear, especially when we see the aftermath. If this is what it means to live deliciously, I think I’ll take a hard pass.
The Autopsy of Jane Doe
If you have yet to see this supernatural spookfest, you should correct that right now. I’ll wait. I’m about to head into major spoiler territory, so this is your last warning. The claustrophobic plot follows father and son coroner duo Tommy and Austin Tilden as they work through the mysterious cause of death of a Jane Doe brought in by the local sheriff. The further they go in their autopsy; the weirder things get in their morgue. The more Jane Doe’s body reveals weird trauma within, the more supernatural forces try to thwart the Tildens. Major Spoiler: the Tilden’s finally realize Jane Doe isn’t dead at all. A victim of the Salem witch trials and subjected to multiple horrific rituals, the Salem authorities created the very thing they were trying to destroy. Jane Doe is a living witch enacting revenge to any that crosses her path, even centuries later.
Five decades ago, Stephen King published the story of a bullied girl with telekinetic powers and forever changed the world of horror.
Carrie follows a high school misfit who seeks revenge for a hideous prank by psychically destroying her senior prom. The name Carrie White has become synonymous with the concept of a formal dance thanks to a flawless adaptation from Brian De Palma. Now fifty years after the film’s release, Mike Flanagan is putting his own stamp on the troubling story.
Rather than a feature film, the writer/director will expand King’s relatively slim debut novel into an eight-episode miniseries for Amazon Prime set to premiere on October 7.
Flanagan is no stranger to the world of Stephen King. A long-time Constant Reader, he first made waves with his daring adaptation of Gerald’s Game (2017), a novel many fans considered un-filmable. His underrated Doctor Sleep merges the disparate plot of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining with King’s original source material, and his 2024 genre-bending tearjerker The Life of Chuck faithfully executes one of the author’s most metaphysical novellas.
He’s currently mired in pre-production for an expansive adaptation of The Dark Tower series, keystone to King’s connected universe, and Warner Bros. recently announced that Flanagan will helm a new version of The Mist, King’s 1980 novella which sees a small Maine town overrun by otherworldly monsters.
Considering the vast array of the author’s previously unadapted material, an obvious question arises. Why reimagine Carrie in 2026? Noting the timeless nature of the content, Flanagan expressed his desire to bring the story of a bullied girl into modern times, mirroring his approach to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher. He explained, “The only way to approach it was to build something new out of the ingredients of Carrie. Otherwise, there’s really no purpose in trying to retread ground that’s been so beautifully walked before.”
His miniseries will maintain the novel’s bloody bookends while delivering “big surprises” along the way.
A New Prom Night Nightmare
The roughly 60-second teaser introduces Summer H. Howell as Carrie White just before the moment of catastrophe. Standing in a prom dress, she smiles at her applauding classmates with an ominous crown perched upon her head. Moments later, Carrie unleashes a rage-filled scream into the night air while promgoers rush for the exit doors. But careful examination of this scene shows Carrie wearing a different, albeit dirty dress as she seems to telekinetically punish her peers.
In an exclusive first look with Entertainment Weekly, Flanagan explains that in his version of the story, “the events of that prom are going to be completely different.” An open trunk emitting a crimson glow does hint at the pig’s blood dumped on Carrie’s head, but it’s likely Flanagan’s formal dance will be a different kind of horror altogether. Despite these changes, the series may end with the widespread destruction outlined in the source material. Unlike any previous adaptations, King’s novel ends with the near-total destruction of Chamberlain, Maine. A flaming street in Flanagan’s trailer promises similar carnage no matter what prank sparks Carrie’s deadly revenge.
The Monstrous Addition of Social Media
On the opposite end of this fiery conclusion is an extreme act of bullying that brings together the story’s main cast. King’s novel begins as Carrie gets her first period while showering in the girls’ locker room. Completely unaware of the concept of menstruation, the sheltered girl thinks she’s bleeding to death. Her classmates respond with vitriolic rage. Led by ultra-mean girl Chris Hargensen (Alison Thornton), they mock the terrified teen while pelting her with tampons. Glimpses of this disturbing event reveal that Flanagan has excised the scene’s nudity while adding a seismic update. As Carrie sobs in the shower stall, Chris and her friends film the breakdown with their phones.
Other scenes note the presence of social media, bringing King’s fifty-year-old story into the digital age.
Flanagan’s adaptation promises to explore the destructive power of social media, an often invisible entity with a potential for harm rivaling Carrie’s own powers. While King’s tormented heroine suffers in front of a small group of girls, Flanagan’s version of the incident will likely become a viral video, potentially circling the globe on social media. Similar to Katt Shea’s criminally underrated The Rage: Carrie 2, which includes elements of revenge porn exploitation, Flanagan’s modern retelling will distinguish itself by exploring the nebulous cruelty of online bullying, a force ten times more powerful than the irl pranks King first envisioned.
A Completely Reimagined White Family
In addition to modernizing these canon events, Flanagan hints at updates to Carrie’s oppressive upbringing at the hands of her mother, Margaret White (Samantha Sloyan). Dead before the novel begins, we never meet Carrie’s domineering father Ralph, known to carry a bible alongside his gun. Flanagan’s White household will be an altogether different beast. In his version of the story, Carrie and her mother have been hidden away in the unassuming home, forced out of hiding by Ralph’s unexpected death. Perhaps we will finally meet this elusive man whose shadow hangs over his wife and child. Considering the White family’s fundamentalist lifestyle, this reimagining hints at tradwife culture and a home ruled by staunch patriarchal control.
Whereas King’s Carrie has been tormented by her classmates since Kindergarten, Flanagan’s Carrie will be a wide-eyed newcomer to public school, eager to make friends and engage with her peers. We glimpse Carrie cozying up to Chris and the equally popular Sue Snell (Siena Agudong) as she navigates a new social scene. Of course, we know this kindness is part of an elaborate plot designed to lull Carrie into a false sense of camaraderie, setting up an atrocious act of public humiliation. These brief moments of feigned compassion put Sue’s own complicity into question. Will Flanagan’s version of the character find the courage to defend Carrie from vicious bullies or will she succumb to peer pressure and join in the mob mentality?
Perhaps the biggest deviation from King’s original text is the relationship between Carrie and her mother. King’s Margaret White is a horrifically abusive religious zealot whose worldview has been hardened by internalized misogyny. She shames Carrie for menstruating, locks her in a closet to “pray,” and regrets not killing her child in infancy. She’s also responsible for Carrie’s social ostracization. Known to berate her neighbors for their “sins,” Margaret forces her daughter to live by an extreme code of conduct and disallows any potential friends lest they corrupt the girl with their worldly ways.
Flanagan’s version of the character is perhaps just as much a victim as Carrie herself. Also trapped inside her home, his Margaret is overly vigilant, her own trauma manifesting as strict control. Describing a more sympathetic depiction of the iconic villain, Flanagan explains, “Our Margaret White is a woman who fiercely loves her daughter and wants to protect her from this world … [She] doesn’t know how to do that and thinks the way to protect her is to close her off; not punitively, but to create this private utopia.”
Despite this potential softening, Sloyan’s Margaret may still have a sharp edge. Though she has appeared in many Flanagan projects, from Hush (2016) to The Fall of the House of Usher (2023), she is best known for her role as the abhorrent Bev Keane in the poignant saga Midnight Mass (2021). Perhaps inspired by King’s Margaret White, Bev is pious and sadistic, willing to punish anyone who does not adhere to her warped approximation of Catholicism.
Flanagan specifically wrote Margaret with Sloyan in mind, likely remembering the actress’s eerie ability to create deceptive empathy and shift our allegiances on a dime.
Expanding Stephen King’s Telekinetic Universe
While most of King’s story deals with an unthinkable prom night in Chamberlain, Maine, large sections of the semi-epistolary novel see experts debating the nature of telekinesis. Do Carrie’s frightening abilities represent a new phase in human evolution or is the prom night carnage merely a fluke? King settles the debate with a shocking denouement in which a young mother recounts her infant daughter’s ability to dangle her crib toys in midair. We’re left to wonder if she will become another tormented girl who surprises the world with metaphysical strength.
Flanagan plans to build out this brief scene while amplifying themes of female empowerment. After introducing our main cast of characters, episode two will open with an unrelated story in which we meet another girl with the TK gene. Each subsequent chapter will expand this world, building out a roster of telekinetic young women. Considering King’s fondness for stories about powerful kids, often described as possessing “the shining,” Constant Readers will no doubt have their eyes peeled for various Easter Eggs nodding to the author’s vast catalogue.
Giving Carrie Her Own Voice
Perhaps the most striking distinction in Flanagan’s new trailer is the extent to which we hear Carrie’s voice. The sneak peek is fully narrated by the titular prom queen as she demands accountability. “I want to know why,” she explains while detailing Chris’ elaborate plan. Aside from the aforementioned coda, King’s book essentially ends with the aftermath of the prom night tragedy, leaving little time for Carrie to reflect. His shifting narrative does bring the reader into her fragile mind, though not before she’s been cowed by relentless cruelty. We watch Carrie sink into bloodthirsty revenge, but never hear a considered desire for justice or repair.
Flanagan’s original monologue allows Carrie to voice her pain and mourn the life she could have had. We’re also treated to a mug shot-style photo of Chris with a bruised and bandaged face, implying that the mean girl will have to answer for her senseless sadism.
Flanagan is known for filling his series adaptations with heartwrenching speeches that cut to the heart of his thematic intentions, and this teaser seems to follow suit. After years of fans, critics, and scholars analyzing Carrie’s pain, perhaps his modern retelling will offer the titular anti-hero a chance to finally speak for herself.
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