SAN DIEGO — A funny thing happened on the way to the horror film The Woods hitting theaters: It turned into a sequel to The Blair Witch Project.
The marketing switcheroo happened at a screening Friday night at Comic-Con for the newly retitled Blair Witch (in theaters Sept. 16), the latest from the filmmaking team of director Adam Wingard and writer Simon Barrett (You’re Next, The Guest).
Going back to the found-footage roots of the original 1999 film, Blair Witch features a new group of college kids going into the legendarily creepy Black Hills Forest in Burkittsville, Md. James (James Allen McCune) thinks he sees his sister — who disappeared in that first doomed mission into the woods — in a YouTube video and gathers friends to go back to the spooky house and see if she’s OK.

Some familiar eerie wooden totems start showing up, and things go awry quickly.
“We wanted an experience like a haunted hayride through the Blair Witch woods,” Wingard said in a post-screening discussion.
Valorie Curry in the horror film 'Blair Witch.' (Photo: Chris Helcermanas-Benge)
He found Blair Witch the most difficult film he’s ever directed, partly because of the necessity of hiding its true identity from everyone at Lionsgate and even from the actors before they were officially cast.
“It was almost like a Star Wars-level secrecy process,” said producer Keith Calder.
During casting and before the film’s 34-day shoot in Vancouver, none of the actors knew the real nature of the project, Barrett said. “I think they just thought they were auditioning for the worst Blair Witch ripoff ever."

Wingard and Barrett both were big fans of the original; Wingard saw it six times in the theater. “Adam and I didn’t know it wasn’t real,” Barrett joked. But the 2000 sequel Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 “never got back there” in building on the mythology, Wingard said.
So that’s what the new film focuses on while also being different: For example, Barrett plays with the concept of temporal reality in some key sequences, yet the iconic basement of the old house in Blair Witch is completely accurate to the original. (They did take liberties in creating the rest of the place.)
It felt like it was about time for a Blair Witch sequel, Barrett said. “We just didn’t want anyone else to do it. We’re the guys.”

I don’t know about you, but whenever sometimes says the word “witch” I think of my ex. And after that, it’s of course Suspiria, especially musically. In that movie Goblin really come into their own and they’re a pretty huge reason why Dario Argento’s movie is regarded as a masterpiece. But there’s a new goat on the block and its name is The VVitch. A 17th century tale about witchcraft in New England (where else?), it scared the shit out of a bunch of hardcore horror hounds in festivals last year and hits cinemas next month in the US and March in the UK. Milan Records are putting the soundtrack out and kindly sent us a copy for our delectation, and, well, holy shit The VVitch is one of the most unsettling scores I’ve ever heard. Composed by Canadian Mark Korven – who unsurprisingly had one of his earliest jobs writing music for the 80’s revival of The Twilight Zone – and performed by the composer and two other musicians (with a choir backing them up), it starts your skin crawling from the first second. Beginning in a reasonably traditional way with a slow moody string line, it feels immediately like a precursor, something foreboding. Fan, meet shit. Dissonance follows, something that you encounter a lot during The Witch, and here it surges into a wave of scratching and biting strings, with low notes clashing with a horrible chorus of shrieking that not only sounds terrifying but also feels absolutely authentic.
And that’s an intentional and crucial part of Korven’s approach. While he uses the familiar chaotic and malevolent strings that we’re so used to in the genre, their source is less traditional, at least for a modern score. Appearing are the Spanish Viol, the Finnish Jouhikko, and the Swedish Nyckelharpa, stringed instruments that range from the 14th century to the 18th, as well as the infamous Hurdy-gurdy (probably still best known from the Donovan song so memorably used in David Fincher’s Zodiac), together with the cello and waterphone (the latter of which was a staple of Bernard Herrmann). So while the instruments themselves are perhaps appropriate for the film in terms of period, they also work to unsettle us a bit – they’re certainly familiar, but there’s something in there that we don’t recognise.
And then there’s The Element Choir, a group led by folk artist Christine Duncan who are responsible for the frankly horrific choral parts in the score (horrific in a good way, of course). Just listen to the wordless underlying chorus in ‘A Witch Stole Sam’, or the floating, ghostly voices in ‘William’s Confession’. They’re also responsible for the most terrifying moment in the score, ‘Witches Coven’, which is essentially the chorus furiously chanting incantations in an unknown language. It’s a chilling moment, and I say that listening to it on a Tuesday afternoon. Do I dare play it late at night?
I’m not especially prone to hyperbole, but much of The VVitch is a deeply uncomfortable listen. As mentioned earlier, it’s full of dissonance and atonal pieces, with the score constantly shifting and warping, creaking. The percussion sections sound like they were literally created with tree branches and sticks, something that feels consistent with the setting of the story and the imagery that comes with witchcraft. And there’s one moment during ‘Caleb Is Lost’ where the strings produce this horrible gutteral growl that genuinely made me shiver.
I haven’t seen the film of The VVitch so I can only go by this soundtrack, but what Mark Korven has composed is able to work all by its lonesome, which is not always guaranteed when it comes to these kind of scores. But it’s an utterly rewarding listen, not only in the way it’s able to creep you out but also the haunting beauty contained within, such as the two solo string tracks that bookend the album, as well as ‘Isle of Wight’, which is a wonderful folk song. Get ready for The VVitch – to quote the tagline for a classic horror movie, it knows what scares you.

The Art of Krampus takes a look at how this terrifying character inspired the filmmaker and Legendary Pictures to create a movie that captures the dark side of the holidays. With fascinating concept art and unit photography showcasing the most thrilling, suspenseful, and horrifying moments of the movie alongside insightful commentary from the cast and crew, this deluxe coffee-table book details all that went into crafting Dougherty’s eagerly-awaited Yuletide horror film. Visually stunning and comprehensive, The Art of Krampus is the perfect holiday gift for horror enthusiasts.