A team of researchers (including B-movie character actor Alvy Moore), en route to a supposedly authentic site of witchcraft on a Louisiana bayou, soon finds more material then they could ever ask for. Upon arrival at their secluded cabin, they soon conduct a séance with the help of Tasha, the group's link to the witches. Supposed to be of unholy descent, Tasha soon becomes susceptible to the telekinetic grip of the nearby witch, Jessie (Helene Winston). Jessie soon renders Tasha a sort of satanic pawn, luring her into the open arms of "Luther the Berserk" (John Lodge), a warlock who plans on initiating her into his ancient coven, thereby strengthening his unholy clan and replenishing Jessie's youth with her blood.

Despite a promising premise, THE WITCHMAKER manages to stumble on more than a few accounts. For one, the acting is mostly uninspired and wooden, with most of the cast giving no more energy than a procession of cigar store Indians. And balancing the comatose acting is an often-hammy performance by John Lodge, who seems fit to shout and contort his face maniacally when shouting an incantation at the heavens. Further undercutting the film's initial promise is an unremarkable film score, which makes or breaks a film like this. The score, virtually undistinguishable from the AIP or B-movie scores of the period, does little to further arouse some palpable suspense. Additionally, the film's near-constant semi-darkness is both advantageous and infuriating. Certainly, the atmosphere is nicely complemented, but key scenes such as the otherwise tense confrontation between the group and Owen's resurrected body are poorly lit and obscure key details. Finally, the film is maligned from a glut of grating cliches. All of the witchcraft standbys seem to be here: the satanic alter at which Lodge does his morally dubious bidding is quite obvious and unspectacular, Jessie's frame is crotchety and her face has warts straight out of a Hansel and Gretel fable, and the ubiquitous blood sacrifice is in full effect here, with hardly a new twist or wrinkle in that most grisly of traditions.

But despite the score of detriments, the film tries hard enough to produce at least a handful of inspired elements. Without a doubt, the authentic Louisiana atmosphere provides a unique and wholly credible background to the grisly goings-on. Frothy with mist and moist with stagnant water, the famous swamps of that state are a perfect cloak for the unholy antagonists. And few witchcraft films made today can lay claim to such a (seemingly) exhaustively researched body of data on the black craft. Writer/director William O. Brown must have done his homework, as the film possesses a rare accuracy and attention to history. In many scenes, Dr. Ralph Hayes (Moore) informs his crew of the history of the specific sect of witches they are dealing with, and the viewer comes away feeling that his information would bear quite well under close scrutiny. His theories on the origin of Luther are particularly fascinating and credible.

And, indeed, Brown's opus is not devoid of excellent setpieces and memorable imagery. From the very first frame, Lodge is indeed a fearful fellow, carving a satanic ankh in the fleshy tablet of a nubile female victim. And when the group happen upon one of their own in the mists, seemingly strung up and hung to dry, viewers will have trouble not to be startled. An excellent scene of suspense occurs when Tasha, an unwitting servant of Jessie, seduces Owen (another member of the group) in the misty moonlight. Her frame, cloaked in a red silk dress, shimmering in the forest, is a sight to behold, indeed. But perhaps the standout sequence is the most obligatory and expected. The climatic procession of the witch's coven, with sensual practitioners of the black arts emerging out of effectively lurid color lighting, could easily go the distance with similarly-themed films of that era.

Unfortunately, however, the film's detracting components inundates the paucity of memorable scenes. Frustrating, indeed, especially when the viewer is bamboozled with a rather flabby final act and an unexpected twist ending that proves more of a cop-out than a worthy final stamp. As it stands, THE WITCHMAKER is of a higher rank than most films of it's ilk, but it simply cannot surpass the very best.