‘Hood Witch’ Review — This Thriller About Social Media Has a Secret Weapon

The Big Picture

• The concept of using social media for contemporary witch hunts is a solid one.
• Saïd Belktibia’s execution as a first-time filmmaker is passionate but knotty.
• Golshifteh Farahani is as talented as always, but the material loses itself along the way, stranding performers.

Saïd Belktibia’s propulsive thriller Hood Witch is a mother’s nightmare in constant motion. The French-Iranian production takes cues from Netflix’s 2022 stunner Athena, which features Belktibia’s performance as Frère Saïd, in the way momentum rolls downhill and rarely stops advancing. It’s a stalk-and-chase flick that provides few breaks as the plot thickens, wholly immersed in the hurdle forward. Belktibia’s film, which he dedicates to his mother in a touching display of affection, is critical of how society fails women who dare reject male-dominated norms. Hood Witch’s modern recreation of witch trials through social media is an exceptional concept, but proves less and less poignant as scenes bleed into an exhausting marathon with wobbly legs.

What Is ‘Hood Witch’ About?

Invasion‘s Golshifteh Farahani stars as Nour, a smuggler of exotic animals and illegal goods. She lives with her son, Amine (Amine Zariouhi), and she is developing a unique mobile application dubbed “Baraka” that can connect prospective clients and marabout healers (Muslim holy men). Her ex-husband Dylan (Jérémy Ferrari) seeks full custody of Amine despite his inability to keep up with child support payments and accuses Nour of practicing witchcraft. After Nour’s app cannot prevent tragedy from striking, the community begins a “witch hunt” out of anger, which sends her fleeing from capture. Nour doesn’t even care about proving her innocence at this point — just taking Amine far away from Dylan.

Cinematographer Benoit Soler is Belktibia’s secret weapon, from the opening sequence where Nour throws open her clothing to reveal baggies filled with reptiles and crawlies like the merchant in Resident Evil 4. It’s a striking and humorous frame with so much visual personality, a continued trend even as Nour sprints away from aggressive mobs. There’s also a shot where Soler captures a scorpion feeding upon a wriggling grasshopper — a predator sucking the life from its prey — that exemplifies the photographer’s eye for crisp, threatening visuals. That alarm echoes as Nour encounters a local boy’s possible possession or an officially sanctioned Islamic exorcism known as a Rokya. Nour’s neighborhood becomes a hunting ground and Soler’s camera does well to accentuate the dangerous journey as she becomes a public pariah.

However, there’s a thematic struggle between patriarchal takedowns and supernatural scams that don’t quite mesh (as well as they should). Belktibia and co-writer Louis Penicaut tackle social media’s role in drumming up mob justice and the unchecked ease of accusatory campaigns, but it’s hardly fully explored; they’re merely perspective interludes. Nour’s desire to provide for Amine is her “undoing,” as Dylan attempts to snatch sole parental control, but the hunt itself is an underwhelming affair. Hood Witch is a movie that requires a suspension of disbelief, lacking justification behind action sequences. The urban-set chase also feels wonky, as characters implicate themselves without hesitation and dramatic beats feel coincidentally forced. Belktibia wants to say so much about Nour’s predicament, Dylan’s disgustingly abusive behavior and innocent Amine’s position stuck between warring parents, but his messages tangle into knots.

‘Hood Witch’ Loses the Plot

Hood Witch is a complicated tale of grifters, comeuppances, and people trying their hardest (especially immigrants with fewer options) — maybe too complicated. The action set pieces aren’t immaculate enough for the somewhat plodding yet sporadically fulfilling tale to do itself justice. Just as Salem’s witch trials were enacted to preserve patriarchal dominance, Nour finds herself the target of Muslim spiritualists who want Baraka taken offline lest their practices be less in demand. Belktibia and Farahani — as the entrepreneurial and formidable Nour — furiously challenge outdated religious traditions, outright sexism, and society’s oppressive tactics against women, only to miss fully realizing all these grave frustrations. There are rewarding tidbits like Nour’s payoff of Chekhov’s poisonous frog or tense conversations as gassed-up gangs bash on apartment doors while screaming Nour’s name, but also equal dips in clarity as too many outrages drown each other out. Farahani’s on-camera talents are never in question, and Ferrari plays a right-proper bastard of a man, but Belktibia somehow loses his plot as the film charges blindly ahead.

Do I love Hood Witch? No. Do I somewhat like Hood Witch? That’s more complicated. Belktibia’s feature debut comes with compelling sequences as a mother fights against what seems like the entire world, but murky motivations hold one back from getting fully emotionally invested. Hood Witch builds atop a wonky structure and never looks back, which boasts admirable confidence yet sloppy results when we’re left questioning why the final product feels lopsided and askew. Farahani cannot plug every hole in the dam (so to speak), which is a shame because there’s something remarkable seen in the mere glimmers of Hood Witch — but unfortunately, there’s also a whole mess of movie sloshing around in between.

Hood Witch had its North American Premiere at the 2024 SXSW Film & TV Festival.