My dear readers, having accumulated a healthy number of years, I find I can now safely look back and admit, perhaps with some private gesture of amusement, that in my adolescence I could be quite the little hellion. Though I never strayed from the strict guidelines my parents had laid out for domestic behavior, my conduct outside the house was an entirely different manner. A few of my chums and I used to terrorize an elderly misanthrope who lived nearby with antics most juvenile. I can still fondly recall the night he woke to discover us secreted away at the foot of his bed, bearing aloft a portrait of his deceased wife. I assure you the expression on his face was the absolute height of hilarity to a few immature lads such as us and we chuckled over the whole business for days after.

A similar subversive streak lives in young Leah, a woman drooping with the trappings of pubescent angst and religious experimentation. Unlike some painted youths whose funerary attire is a mere posture, Leah has earned her gloom through the recent departure of her dear old dad. Her father’s absence puts a bit of a strain on life at home and she finds herself in a number of pointed confrontations with her mother, Mrs. Reyes (Laurie Holden). These episodes inspire Leah’s most striking forms of teenaged rebellion. While some borrow the family automobile without express permission or host a party while the folks are away, Leah invokes a witch named Pyewacket to murder her remaining parent. 

Of course, these kinds of emotional outbursts often fade and Leah is quickly reminded of the ineffable bond between mother and daughter. Unfortunately, the aforementioned Pyewacket happened to be perking up an ear when Leah was making her unholy request and does her level best to fulfill this impetuous little scrap’s request. As if the prospect of two dead parents weren’t bad enough, Pyewacket apparently takes quite the toll for her efforts and Leah is quickly persuaded that she may find herself in some physical peril if their oral contract is fulfilled.

Between the volatile domestic scenes and the steady mounting dread, Pyewacket presents a fine spectacle for much of its runtime, dangling the promise of more explosive supernatural scenes to come. I must admit, though, that the moment all of this tension builds towards initially left me feeling a bit discontented. The ending is a “twist” and perhaps it the burden of my experience in the genre but this particular surprise did not quite catch me off guard, as I had assumed its contents had already been spelled out rather clearly and that the audience was meant to have reached the same conclusion some time earlier.

But of course, after some reflection, it became clear to me that presenting the obvious in this awe-struck fashion reflects the gentle naiveté of a teenager who experiments with black magic while angry with a parent. For a youngster such as this, even the most forgone of conclusions may elude them in the fog of hormonal fury and though it may not serve every audience member’s fancy, it does a marvelous job of mirroring its heroine’s tendencies.

Pyewacket runs 90 minutes and does not possess a certified rating in the United States.