In the Dutch horror film Witte Wieven, which screened at the 2024 Fantastic Fest, the women living in a small village in the Middle Ages are only valued for two things: their sexual vibrancy and their ability to bear children. This mind-set is endorsed by the oppressive church. In many ways, the women are treated as cattle, their worth equated with their womb.
Frieda (the ethereal Anneke Sluiters) is on the outs with the villagers. She has not borne her husband, Hikko (Len Leo Vincent), a child. Frieda prays to God for a baby. She gathers herbs to enhance her fertility and entreats blessings from the priest. Anything to rid herself of the guilt, the social stigma, of not being a mother.
Sure, it could be Hikko’s fault, but there was no way to check for low motility in the Middle Ages. Besides, men were seen as infallible. When Frieda suggests that Hikko could be shooting blanks, he reacts violently.
As with any rural folk horror movie, the woods are lovely, dark, and haunted as hell. Prone to stay close to home, the villagers avoid the wooded area. When Frieda is chased into the forest by Gelo (Leon van Waas), the local butcher and part-time rapist, she receives help from an unexpected source. Frieda returns to the village both safe and inherently changed. However, Frieda can’t win. Even though she’s alive, the villagers believe that Whatever Lives in the Forest should have killed her. Frieda must be in league with the Devil.
While Witte Wieven is a supernatural horror film, Marc S. Nollkaemper’s script is full of tiny moments of cringe terror. A woman is forced to forgive the man who sexually assaulted her. When Frieda is brought before the church to pray, the priest interrupts her and tells her she’s being too selfish, not asking for things in the proper manner. The lack of respect and basic human rights is difficult to see. Moments like those are more frightening than Whatever Lives in the Forest.
To no one’s surprise, the church and men are portrayed as the villains. People who outwardly seem good or pious are exposed as being wicked and gross. Gelo, the rapist, is defended by the priest and the men of the village, much to the muffled disgust of the women. The statement is clear. After hundreds of years, not much has changed.
Director Koning’s camera glides through the village, capturing a beautiful misty vision of mud, shadow, and fire. As Frieda, Sluiters shines like a beacon in the filth. With a face full of defiance and fear, Sluiters fully inhabits the archetype of the person pushed to the breaking point.
Barely over an hour long, Witte Wieven is a quick eerie watch. Whatever Lives in the Forest plays a large part in the story, but the humanistic elements of the film are more shocking. The creature is the catalyst but not the focus of the film. That’s a good thing. Women don’t need a creepy monster or a strong connection to the earth to make a difference in the world. Whatever Lives in the Forest also lives inside every woman you’ve ever met. In its best moments, Witte Wieven recognizes that fact and celebrates it.
Witte Wieven is an official selection of Fantastic Fest 2024.
