Season of the Witch (1972)

Season of the Witch (aka Hungry Wives) is a particularly strong reminder that George A. Romero is more than just a man about zombies. Who knew he was so well-versed in the plight of the 70’s housewife? 

So, what if you never have a sexual revelation like Lila Lee? What if you never learn to exercise your feminine wiles like  Dawn O’Keefe? Maybe you end up like Joan Mitchell, a wife, mother, and… well, what else? Ignored by her husband, no longer needed by her daughter, Joan feels as though she has no purpose. She watches the wrinkles appear on her face and feels she’s ended up in a stranger’s house, with a stranger’s family, with nothing to show for it.

Up until this point, Joan has been a good Catholic, feeling guilty even at the thought of swinging with other couples. This all changes when a friend of hers takes her to a tarot reading. This is when Joan realizes she might be more than just a little interested in matters of the occult.

This movie is really cheaply made, and as Q is quick to point out, it is loaded with faults. Apprently it’s the only one of his films Romero says he’d like to remake. All that aside, I like what this movie’s about and what it says. And I love the mid-century decor. And the Donovan song. And of course, Pittsburgh.