Leaving their Irish homeland, a small group of followers break from the Church of England and settle in the fertile fields of North America. There, they choose to live a simple farming life, building a community separate from others, sticking to 19th-century lifestyles while all around them science and technology shape the modern world. Well into the 1950s, all remained so until it seems their god abandoned them, with few crops to sustain them, that is except for Agatha Earnshaw (Catherine Walker), whose farm on the fringes thrives, leaving most to believe she is swayed by witchcraft. Worse, she gave birth to a daughter and kept her hidden, fearing this, too would be a sign of prosperity. Now in 1973, seventeen-year-old Audrey (Jessica Reynolds) lives in the shadows, preened and protected, but learns that maybe there is more about her existence than her mother lets on.
Written and directed by Thomas Robert Lee, The Curse of Audrey Earnshaw isn’t interested in keeping the truth about the titular Audrey secret for very long, revealing a dark ritual early on that forms the foundation of what the close-knit community believe. I suppose that has to be, as is an encounter on a village road that plants the roots of doubt that this secret could at all last. Costumed in pagan horror, this is, after all, a coming-of-age tale dressed in the bleak and harrowed life of a people who live in 1800s-esque isolation.
Audrey is witness to the abusive accusations of the town at the hand of Colm (Jared Abrahamson), a young man who has just lost a son and now blames Agatha. This lights a fire of vengeance in the young Audrey, who is possessed of some powerful dark magic, which strips her of some sympathy perhaps, yet her motivations are always in the interest of her mother, who struggles to contain and shelter her seemingly naive daughter. It’s a road to tragedy.
Moody and purposefully paced, The Curse of Audrey Earnshaw is nearly a black and white film, its colors muted and greyed. Rich however are the patches and pools of crimson blood though Lee keeps this to a meaningful limit. Together with a restrained score by Bryan Buss and Thilo Schaller, the atmosphere and well-scripted dialogue delivered by a strong cast helps in lending this plenty of weight, even as it might not have the urgency it feels like it should. Slow and often left to dense conversations, it’s a heavy journey.
That established, there’s much about this that does as it should, with a compelling and gritty breakdown of a society shaped by its faith. There’s a terrific tributary with a man named Bernard (Don McKellar) that on its own could have been story enough with McKellar absolutely the best thing in the film. Still though, it seems like it’s missing a more coherent message, or at least one pronounced by the power of the females driving the plot. That doesn’t necessarily leave this without impact, just strangely uneven.
While there are a few specific moments of intense realistic gore, the film thrives more on its tension, reminding us subtly that all of this is happening in modern times, which is of course, not anything new. Either way, Lee does well in creating a caustic, agrarian community shaken by darkness, but it’s his cast that do most of the heavy lifting, making our investment in The Curse of Audrey Earnshaw worth the time.