It’s been a hot minute since the heyday of ’80s horror mastermind Chuck Russell—after a couple of all-timer horror classics in 1987’s “Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors” and his squicky ’80s remake of “The Blob” (and, of course, the gonzo Looney Tunes mayhem of 1994’s “The Mask“), the director’s star began to wane with limp actioners like “Eraser” and “The Scorpion King.” Before long, he was tagging along with John Travolta in VOD dreck like “I Am Wrath” and “Paradise City.” “Witchboard,” his sorta-remake of the 1986 Kevin Tenney horror film of the same name, is ostensibly staged as his grand comeback to the practical horror delights of his prime. It doesn’t quite achieve that unqualified victory; it’s far too shaky and uneven for that. But in fits and spurts, it casts quite the campy, thrilling spell.
You can forget about the Ouija board whose demonic exploits heralded the events of the original trilogy of “Witchboard” films: whether out of fear of Hasbro’s litigious eye, or that there’s a whole other series of films centered around the commercialized bit of occult kit, Russell’s version opts for a different prop entirely. Indeed, the central object here is a “pendulum board,” a wooden, circular board bedecked with various symbols along its concentric rings, over which you hover a calcified finger on a string. Ask it a question, and you’ll get an answer. Or, like the monkey’s paw of old, it’ll grant a wish, but maybe not the one you’re expecting.
We first see it in use in a thrilling opener in 1600s France, where occult healer Naga Soth (Antonia Desplat) is caught using it by the fanatical Bishop Grogan (David La Haye); axes fly, blood spills, and hands are promised to be severed. Cut to present-day N’awlins, and the board is fleeced from a museum by a couple of goons, only for happenstance (or destiny) to place it in the hands of Emily (Madison Iseman), a recovering drug addict turning over a new leaf with her top-chef husband, Christian (Aaron Dominguez). He’s about to open a new restaurant in The Big Easy, and the two couldn’t seem happier. Naturally, the arrival of the board, which Emily takes a curious fascination with, dovetails with the return of Christian’s ex, the gorgeous, seductive archaeologist Brooke (Mel Jarnson), who teaches Emily how to use its mysterious powers.
In the early goings, “Witchboard” makes a few strong moves to cement its sense of devilish fun. The aforementioned intro is a thrilling bit of medieval action, with trees decorated with severed hands and rivulets of CG blood. Then, as Emily’s use of the witchboard begins to awaken its eee-vil powers, Russell takes the film in a kind of “Final Destination” direction, as the supernatural wreaks havoc in Christian’s restaurant before opening (protip for all you chefs out there: lock down your deli slicers before use). At the same time, Emily begins to experience visions of the witch from the beginning, flashbacks sucking us into a past timeline where we see Naga Soth’s persecution by the wretched Bishop, lending the events of the present a kind of historical pathos. When we’re in these sections, and when Russell gets to let loose with all manner of face-ripping gore and special effects, “Witchboard” feels like a suitable throwback to the films of the ’80s and ’90s.
The trouble is, at nearly two hours, Russell’s film can’t quite sustain itself under the weight of all its ambitions, not to mention its lead performances. Iseman makes for a capable lead, but she’s surrounded by a devil’s row of mismatched and miscalibrated supporting players, only half of which feel like they’re in on the joke. On the one hand, Jamie Campbell Bower (Vecna from “Stranger Things“) purrs his way through this as an effete, pansexual antiquities expert who hosts sex parties and is constantly accompanied by a trio of sexy goth triplets who do little but circle and make eyes at our protagonists. He chews through the scenery like it’s one of Christian’s mushroom dishes (which get their highlight in a suitably psychedelic climax at his restaurant with a crowd of tripping patrons; eat your heart out, “Phantom Thread”).
Too bad, then, that the dull Christian can’t make a similar meal out of his role, especially as he must take on a more active investigative position as Emily succumbs further to the board’s powers. Dominguez’s frequency is all wrong for this, all doe-eyed sincerity and macho anger—a consequence of making his character the steady straight man to all this culty chaos, I’m sure. But stick him and Bower in a scene together, and it’s like they’re speaking two different languages.
That said, a little shakiness can be forgiven for its ultimate camp value; this is a film that doesn’t take itself too seriously, even as its characters treat it like Shakespeare (Bower even quotes the Bard with suitable gusto). It’s the kind of movie where major revelations are unveiled by a simple Google search, and where drug-dealing fuckboy exes swagger around and talk like a Cajun Matthew McConaughey before being thrown off a roof to a Doors song by an eye-gouging cat. For as shaky as its foundation may be, “Witchboard” offers just enough madcap madness to entertain.
(Oh, and for those who stick around past the end title card, be warned: This movie may well be set in the same universe as “The Pope’s Exorcist,” which automatically bumps it up a half star.)
