This has always been one of my favorite horror movies. A lot of its force--notwithstanding the good solid script and direction--is due to Peter Wyngarde's performance as the husband of the title witch. At first he shows us the man's skepticism, a disbelief so fervent and so confidently scornful of opposition that it persuades his wife, even in the face of the sinister atmosphere that's growing all around them--this being painted in with that easy skill that only Britons seem able to command. As the story progresses, Wyngarde shows us, one unnerving step at a time, the man's loss of his lack of faith, to the point of absolute belief (which the film points up with an obvious, but very satisfying, joke) and absolute terror. Except for Fay Wray writhing and screaming between twin pillars in anticipation of her sacrifice, I can't recall another victim whose fear I've felt along with him so completely. In my opinion Wyngarde's is one of the great performances in horror films, and the film itself is one of the last of the classics.
Review of Night of the Eagle
