Color, 1976, 83m. / Directed by Matt Cimber / Starring Millie Perkins, Lonny Chapman, Vanessa Brown, Peggy Feury, Rick Jason / Subversive (US R1 NTSC) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9) / DD2.0
Though promoted as a sexy horror film complete with poster art featuring a buxom, caped Molly wielding a scythe in one hand and a man's severed head in the other, The Witch who Came from the Sea doesn't really slip easily into any single genre. Vaguely reminiscent of psychosexual studies like Hitchcock's Marnie, the film is unmistakably the work of screenwriter Robert Thom whose sole directorial venture, Angel, Angel, Down We Go, covers much of the same territory (violent and fetishized celebrity worship, family sexual dysfunction from a daughter's point of view, jagged and nonlinear scene construction) in a more decadent Hollywood setting. Thanks to a poetic touch, striking Malibu-shot visuals (courtesy of expert scope cinematographer Dean Cundey in his first major job), and a fine central performance from Perkins, the film avoids sliding into either grindhouse sleaziness or unbearable pretension; its methodical pacing and extreme visuals all feel well-integrated and nicely judged (apart from a few fleeting missteps like the tacky psychedelic effects used for the more intense hallucination passages). Instead of descending into a frenzied bloodbath, the film takes a far more discreet, tragic turn in its final scenes; the haunting closing minutes will disappoint slasher fans but should satisfy anyone willing to contemplate the avalanche of emotional violence throughout the film.
Shot in 1971 but held up from distribution until 1976, The Witch who Came from the Sea was rarely seen in its original widescreen dimensions and only later found anything resembling an audio thanks to its short-lived VHS incarnation courtesy of Unicorn, which became a sought-after item among the tape-trading circuit for years. Strangely enough, it also wound up on the UK's original Video Nasty list for some reason - which only helped to bump up its reputation. Subversive's DVD presentation (taken from the only remaining film elements, according to the packaging) finally
Though most would never tag this as a potential special edition, Subversive delivers plenty of extras to put this challenging film in context. An audio commentary with Perkins, Cundey, and director Matt Cimber (who also helmed some of the wildest '70s blaxploitation titles) offers a flood of useful information about the film, including Perkins' amusing observation that Thom, whom she was divorcing at the time, "wrote this to get back at me!" Unfortunately the track is a bit muffled and suffers from a distracting echo, so don't plan on listening to all of it in one sitting. All three also appear for a nice 36-minute featurette, "A Maiden's Voyage: Remembering The Witch who Came from the Sea," offering various anecdotes (some related to the film, some a bit off-topic). Perkins' thoughts on drug use and presumed freedom at the time get a lot of play, while Cimber reflects on his own directorial approach (including an amusing analogy between Hundra and Gladiator) and Cundey approaches the project from a purely visual perspective. Nice job. Other extras include bios for the three participants, a newly-created promo trailer for this film, and trailers for other Subversive releases including Living Hell, Battlefield Baseball, and Gemini. Be warned that the funk music used for the menus and trailer is much louder than the feature, so keep your remote handy!
While spending an afternoon on the beach with her two young nephews, eccentric Molly (The Diary of Anne Frank's Perkins) tells fantastic stories of her pistol-wielding ship captain father who ruled god-like over the seas and takes them past a sinister nearby tattoo parlor
run by "Jack Dracula." However, she also keeps one eye on the muscular bodybuilders nearby and indulges in violent, bloody fantasies, culminating later in a kinky dream (or not...?) in which she indulges in a drug-induced muscleman threeway culminating in murder. Molly also nurses an unhealthy fixation with television celebrities and, at a beachside party, meets tube actor Billy Batt (late Combat actor Jason) who tells her a somewhat nastier version of the myth behind Boticelli's "The Birth of Venus." Still reeling from vague and disturbing flashbacks involving childhood molestation at her father's hands, Molly finds her tenuous hold on reality slipping, much to the alarm of her boss and sometime lover, bar owner Long John (Chapman). Meanwhile a brutal round of castration murders has the police on the hunt for man-killing "Molly the Mermaid," 
a name Molly takes literally by having the mythical creature inked onto her flesh.
preserves the scope framing and alleviates years of pan-and-scan damage (a fact cheekily acknowledged at the beginning of the disc, Night of the Living Dead-style). The transfer looks very good overall; the film is shot with a somewhat soft and delicate look, with flesh tones often drifting closer to pink, but it's hard to imagine it looking any better. The audio is presented in the original mono and with a tweaked two-channel stereo track, which moderately opens up the sound mix but leaves most of the dialogue and sound effects front and center.
