Director Anna Biller Talks Female Fantasy, Religion and The Love Witch

Anna Biller is not a witch, at least not by name. As the writer/director/producer/editor/costume designer and even composer for her most recent film The Love Witch, which comes out on Blu-ray this week, Biller crafts an enchanting two-hour comedy horror that looks like it’s been pulled right out of the 1970s. The story centers on Elaine, the new witch in town, who’s looking for true love. Her only problem? All of the suitors she uses her “love magic” on tend to wind up dead. Underneath this playful classic movie exterior is a poignant and modern take on feminism, sexuality, and womanhood.
Speaking with Biller, we learned that she is bold in her beliefs and standards (if she directed Star Wars, it would be less CGI, more sets) and very aware of the message she is trying to convey in her work. Her work isn’t for everyone, but that’s precisely what we love about it.
Paste: How would you describe your style of filmmaking or film mission statement to someone who has never seen your work before?
Anna Biller: I’d say that it’s personal filmmaking. But it’s filmmaking done through cinephilia. I think it’s that combination that makes it unusual. I’ve spent my life watching movies, especially classic movies, and I have so many fantasies about cinema—and then I have my life and my experiences. I think about gender a lot. I think about patriarchy and how women have been treated—how I’ve been treated—where my life has gone, [how] being a woman in life is so different than being a man. I think about all these things a lot and then I try to express something about what my experience is through movies, through a movie aesthetic experience. Which feels sometimes seem fake to people—it feels contrived—but actually I think it’s the only way I can express things that are so personal, because otherwise I think it would get too ugly.
Paste: While you’ve cited sexploitation films of the ’60s and ’70s as a source of influence for you, I’ve noticed that you dislike when your films, like Viva and The Love Witch, being categorized under that genre. Can you explain why?
Biller: Well not so much Viva, because I think Viva was in conversation with those films, and when I did the research on those films, it was for the movie Viva. But I don’t think The Love Witch is having that conversation. So, I don’t know why people keep making that comparison to The Love Witch because it’s such a different project. So that’s what bothers me. You know it’s possible that because I was referencing sexploitation movies with Viva people think that’s what I do—that’s my schtick or something.
Paste: And even beyond that, Viva has the elements of a sexploitation film, but with a female and feminist lens it comes across as a very different film.
Biller: Yeah, it’s an opposite project. I think it’s an oxymoron—people calling it “feminist sexploitation.” Because if it’s feminist, it’s not exploitation.
Paste: What is it like to produce an independent film that requires such elaborate costumes and sets, without a big movie budget?
Biller: It’s just really, really time consuming. In a way that actually sometimes feels, weird, it takes way too long. When I was making short films, making everything myself, it wouldn’t take so long, because they were short. It made sense to do it that way, but for a film like The Love Witch it was disproportionate. I enjoy painting, I enjoy making costumes—but at some point, when you’re sewing for a year and a half for a movie, it’s like you’re not a filmmaker anymore, you’re just a seamstress. It starts to feel kind of punishing.
Paste: Can we talk about that infamous tea room? People went crazy over that because it’s just so unique.
Biller: I wanted to see a really feminine space, so I did all these drawings of the pink tea room—everything was pink—and I originally thought we would build it, because I know I wouldn’t be able to find it. I scouted tea rooms and everything but they were too small. I just realized it was going to be too expensive to build it because I wanted those kind of arches and arched windows and columns, and a look that would just be too expensive. We’d need a much larger sound stage. So we found this location—it was the lobby of the old newspaper building—the Herald Examiner, in downtown Los Angeles. I brought all these white tablecloths and dyed them pink and brought a pink carpet—the DP installed pink backlighting.
Paste: It was so pink that it was almost womb-like.
Biller: That was the intention. To make it feel womb-like, and to make it feel sort of intrusive when Trish’s husband walks in. Like he was walking into a womb, like there was something wrong about it.
Paste: I understand you consulted several real-life wiccans for the magical aspects film, some of whom actually were in the film itself. What was that like? What did you did you learn from them?
Biller: Since I wasn’t raised with religion, the main thing I learned is that witchcraft is a very real religion for the people that practice it. They’re very serious about it. They kind of remind me of Christians, Catholics—it reminded me very much of what I know about the rituals of Catholicism. And also I know a lot of witches were raised Catholic or with a certain type of very formal Christianity, and I think that they weren’t comfortable with that, but what they’re doing is—it’s like they’re reliving it, but they’re making their own rules around it. I thought that that was really great for Elaine because she’s the type of character who tries to create her own world. So it’s the idea that witches create their own tools. They create everything themselves, so it’s kind of like being an artist too. I related to that.
Paste: Did you learn anything that you want to take into your own daily life?
Biller: What I decided is that doing prayers for me, it feels demonic. Because it feels like I’ve already figured out how to keep myself sane and whole spiritually by doing artwork, and I feel like doing spells and prayers away from artwork feels demonic to me. It feels like I’m conjuring up, I don’t know what I’m conjuring up. It doesn’t feel healthy to me. It feels like the only time I want to do spells is when I am really angry or desperate. That’s why I feel like it’s dark. I think if you just wanted to do blessings you wouldn’t call yourself a witch or call it witchcraft.
And some of the rituals I went to really scared me because the people there had very dark energy. This is stuff where if I ever talk about it, if I’m ever interviewed by actual witches and I say any of this stuff, they hate me saying it, and actually they won’t print it. They don’t like anyone saying anything negative. And I think if what they’re practicing is all sweetness and light then why would they mind if somebody says something? So I feel like there’s a veneer. I think there are a lot of witches who are 100% good, and are just into good spiritual practice, but I think a lot of it is really dark, and I think the stuff that’s dark is really hidden and you can’t find out about it unless you’re initiated into an inner circle. That’s how I handled the witchcraft in the film, it’s like—there’s a suggestion from the character Gahan and from the tone of some of the rituals that there could be some really scary shit going on, but you don’t really know what it is, or if it’s just theater.