Roald Dahl's The Witches

There was a specific kind of claustrophobia to October 2020, a time when the "theatrical experience" felt like a Victorian ghost story and our living rooms became our entire cinematic universe. When Warner Bros. announced that Robert Zemeckis’ adaptation of The Witches would bypass the big screen for a direct-to-HBO Max release, it felt like a white flag in the face of the pandemic—but also a curious experiment. Could the man who gave us the uncanny valley of The Polar Express and the kinetic magic of Back to the Future recapture the dark, whimsical dread of Roald Dahl? I watched this while eating a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal that I’d let sit for way too long, and somehow, that gloopy, slightly unappealing texture perfectly mirrored the film’s "just-not-quite-right" visual effects.

A Southern-Fried Spell

Transplanting the story from the cold, coastal haunts of Norway and England to 1967 Alabama was a stroke of genius on the part of Zemeckis and co-writer Guillermo del Toro. It adds a layer of American Gothic flavor that the 1990 Nic Roeg version lacked. Octavia Spencer (The Help, Hidden Figures) steps into the role of Grandma, and she is the absolute heartbeat of the film. She brings a soulful, "herbal-remedy" warmth that grounds the more outlandish elements.

The shift in setting also allows for a subtle, contemporary nod to the era's social dynamics—the idea that a group of wealthy, white socialites (who happen to be child-eating demons) can hide in plain sight at a segregated luxury resort is a sharp, very "2020s" thematic choice. It’s a film that knows exactly where it sits in the streaming era: it’s bright, colorful, and designed to pop on a 4K home television, even if it lacks the celluloid grit that made the original adaptation so nightmare-inducing for 90s kids.

The Grand High Camp of Anne Hathaway

Let’s talk about the elephant in the ballroom: Anne Hathaway (The Devil Wears Prada, Les Misérables). As the Grand High Witch, she isn't just chewing the scenery; she’s devouring it with a side of fava beans and a nice Chianti. Her performance is a polarizing whirlwind of soaring vowels, jagged physical comedy, and a CGI-enhanced mouth that expands to terrifying proportions. Anne Hathaway is basically playing a drag version of a Bond villain, and I genuinely couldn’t look away.

While Anjelica Huston’s 1990 portrayal was elegant and icy, Hathaway is manic and cartoonish. Is it scary? Not in the traditional sense. It’s "theatre kid" horror. When she floats across the ceiling or sniffs out "clean" children with her pulsating nostrils, it’s more grotesque than chilling. However, the chemistry between her and Stanley Tucci (The Hunger Games), playing the beleaguered hotel manager Mr. Stringer, is a delight. Seeing the Devil Wears Prada duo reunited in such a bizarre context feels like a gift to the internet’s meme-creators.

Digital Dread vs. Practical Puppetry

The biggest hurdle for any fan of the original film is the transition from Jim Henson’s legendary practical effects to Zemeckis’ digital obsession. There is something fundamentally "clean" about CGI that hurts a horror-adjacent story like this. In the 90s version, when the witches peeled off their faces, it felt wet, heavy, and real. Here, the transformations—the three-toed feet, the clawed hands, the Glasgow smiles—look a bit too much like a high-budget video game cutscene. The CGI mice look like they escaped from a discarded 'Stuart Little' reboot, which undercuts the tension when our Hero Boy (Jahzir Bruno) and Bruno Jenkins (Codie-Lei Eastick) are scurrying for their lives.

That said, the film does something the 1990 version didn't dare: it sticks to Dahl’s original, melancholic ending. I won't spoil it for the uninitiated, but the refusal to "Hollywood-ize" the finale gives the movie a surprising emotional weight. It acknowledges that sometimes, even when you win, you don't get everything back.

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The Del Toro Connection: Guillermo del Toro originally pitched this as a stop-motion film (similar to his recent Pinocchio), which explains some of the more grotesque character designs that survived into the live-action version. Controversy in Design: The film faced significant backlash from the disability community for its depiction of the witches’ hands (Ectrodactyly). Warner Bros. and Hathaway eventually issued apologies, noting they didn't intend for the limb differences to be synonymous with "evil." Chris Rock’s Narration: The film uses Chris Rock (Top Five) as the voice of the older Hero Boy. It gives the film a "Wonder Years" vibe that helps bridge the gap between the scary elements and the family-friendly tone. The Score: Legendary composer Alan Silvestri (Back to the Future, Avengers: Endgame) provides a sweeping, orchestral score that tries its hardest to make the movie feel like a grand cinematic event. * Box Office Blues: Because of its hybrid release during the pandemic, the film only clawed in about $29 million theatrically, making it a "streaming hit" whose true success remains locked in a Warner Bros. data vault.

Ultimately, The Witches (2020) is a fascinating artifact of its time. It’s a lavish, well-acted, and occasionally inspired reimagining that suffers from a bit of an identity crisis—caught between being a dark fairy tale and a bright CGI spectacle. While it won't replace the 1990 version in the hearts of horror purists, it’s a fun, campy diversion that proves Anne Hathaway is willing to go to some very strange places for her craft. It’s a movie that’s easy to watch but hard to be truly haunted by, perfect for a rainy afternoon when you want a little bit of magic without the lingering nightmares.