The Witches (1967)

What makes The Witches (1967) special is the sheer electricity of its format: five bite-sized films, each shaped by a different Italian master, all orbiting the same question of what society asks of women—and what it costs. Silvana Mangano is a marvel, shifting personas with a chameleonic grace that lets the movie glide from satirical comedy to bruising drama without ever feeling like it’s changing the subject. The tone is alternately glamorous, absurd, bitterly funny, and quietly devastating, with the kind of visual imagination and social bite that anthology films rarely sustain from start to finish. It’s not for viewers who need one continuous story or a single consistent mood, but if you’re on the fence and curious about peak-era Italian cinema taking big swings, this is the kind of film that keeps surprising you long after each segment ends.

The Witches is clearly aiming for a stylish, adult-minded snapshot of women’s roles and frustrations, using five very different stories from heavyweight Italian directors to poke at fame, marriage, honor, and hypocrisy. The catch is that anthology films live and die by consistency, and this one swings wildly in tone—from bitter social satire to surreal farce—so you may love one segment and feel stuck enduring the next. It’s also a product of its era: the “commentary” on women can feel more like men talking about women than women being understood, which may read as dated or even irritating rather than incisive. Watch it if you’re in the mood for 1960s European art-cinema experimentation and Silvana Mangano’s star power; skip it if you want a cohesive comedy-drama with a clear emotional payoff.