Revisiting George A. Romero's Overlooked Occult Drama Season of the Witch
The Verge reviews Season of the Witch, a lesser-known George A. Romero film it describes as a slow-burn feminist occult drama far from his zombie work.
The Verge has published a review of Season of the Witch, a film by George A. Romero that the outlet describes as a slow-burn feminist occult drama. According to the review, the movie is far less known than the zombie films that made Romero's name, and it sits alongside his other lesser-known work rather than his famous outbreak thrillers.
The review opens by noting that Romero is best known as the filmmaker who helped define the modern zombie movie. It then places Season of the Witch in the context of his broader output, pointing to his horror work and to other films that are less familiar to general audiences. The reviewer says they have not seen one of those other titles, There's Always Vanilla, which is mentioned as a point of comparison in the author's own career with Romero's catalog.
The Verge's framing emphasizes tone over spectacle. The description of a slow-burn drama suggests a film that builds dread and character tension gradually instead of relying on rapid shocks. The feminist and occult labels in the headline signal that the review treats the film's themes, not only its genre trappings, as central to its appeal.
The summary available for this report does not give a full plot, cast details or a verdict beyond the headline's characterization, so readers seeking those specifics should consult the complete review.
Background
George A. Romero is widely credited with shaping the modern zombie film. His 1968 debut, Night of the Living Dead, helped establish the image of the slow, relentless undead that later became a staple of film and television. Over the following decades he returned to the genre repeatedly, but he also worked across other horror subgenres and experimented with tone and social commentary.
The early 1970s were a productive and unusual period in American genre cinema. Independent filmmakers, often working with modest budgets, used horror to explore anxieties about institutions, the family, gender roles and the Vietnam-era social climate. Occult themes, including witchcraft, possession and cults, were popular in that moment, and many films from the period mixed exploitation conventions with more serious ambitions.
Romero's films from that era often reflect this blend. Works such as The Crazies, a contagion thriller about the breakdown of order, show his interest in institutional failure and ordinary people caught in escalating crises. Films like Season of the Witch belong to a body of work that is less often discussed than his zombie cycle, and that has drawn renewed critical interest as audiences and writers revisit the wider catalog of 1970s independent horror.
Because many of these titles were released without major studio marketing and circulated unevenly over the years, they can be harder to find than his best-known films. Retrospective reviews are one way such work gets reconsidered, and they often focus on whether a movie's ideas have aged well or whether its craft holds up for new viewers.
Why it matters
Reconsidering a director's lesser-known films changes how we understand the whole career. When a filmmaker is known for a single genre landmark, the surrounding work can be overshadowed, and readers may assume that the famous title represents everything else. A review that spotlights an overlooked feature invites viewers to test that assumption and to see the director's range.
The framing of the film as a feminist occult drama also matters for how older genre work is read today. Critics and audiences now often evaluate horror through its treatment of gender, power and bodily autonomy, and many films from earlier decades are reassessed through those lenses. Whether a particular film was intended as political commentary or succeeded as one is a question reviewers can debate, and the answer depends on the text itself.
For a technology and culture site, this kind of coverage also reflects how media is preserved and rediscovered. Restorations, streaming catalogs and digital archives determine which films reach new viewers. Older titles that were once hard to access may find new audiences when they become easier to watch, which in turn shapes the critical record.
Finally, the review illustrates the value of slower, careful criticism in a fast news environment. A piece that describes tone, pacing and themes gives readers a reason to seek out a film on its own terms rather than reacting to a headline or a famous name.
What to watch
Readers interested in the film should look for the complete review to see the reviewer's full assessment, including how they judge the pacing and the occult elements. Comparing that verdict with other critical responses to Romero's 1970s films can show whether the reappraisal is gaining momentum.
It is also worth watching how the film is made available. Availability through restorations, streaming services or home video will determine how many viewers can judge it directly. Any new release or re-release announcement would be a useful signal of renewed interest.
Finally, watch for whether other outlets revisit Romero's lesser-known titles. A wave of coverage could suggest a broader reassessment of his career beyond the zombie films.
Viewpoints
Commentary from our columns: three angles on this story.
The Skeptic open questions and weak points
It is easy to celebrate a forgotten film once a critic calls it overlooked, but the useful question is why it was overlooked in the first place. Many low-profile horror films from this period were neglected for reasons that have little to do with artistic merit: limited distribution, uneven prints, or simply a crowded market. A label like slow-burn can mean patient and absorbing, or it can mean the pacing never quite earns its runtime. Before readers treat this as a hidden gem, they should ask whether the film's ideas have held up, whether its occult elements are used with purpose, and whether the feminist framing is built into the story or added on top. A good review should answer those questions with evidence from the film itself. Skepticism here is not dismissal. It is a reminder that rediscovery deserves the same scrutiny as any new release, and that a famous director's name is not a substitute for a clear case.
The User what changes for people who use it
For most viewers, the practical question is simple: can I actually find this movie and will it be worth my evening? A review like this one matters because it turns a title that many people have never heard of into something they can decide about. Lesser-known films often vanish from streaming libraries or live only on old physical copies, so the first hurdle is access. The second is expectation. Someone who came to Romero for zombies may be surprised by a slow, character-driven occult drama, and that mismatch can shape whether they enjoy it. Reviews help set that expectation, telling readers what kind of experience to brace for. If you are curious, start with the review, check where the film is currently available, and go in knowing it is built on atmosphere and tension rather than constant action. That approach tends to make older films far more rewarding.
The Optimist the hopeful reading
There is something quietly encouraging about a review that sends readers back to an older film instead of chasing the newest release. Romero's reputation rests on a few landmark movies, but careers are rarely that simple, and a director's lesser-known work often holds the experiments that show what they were really trying to say. Here, the description of a feminist occult drama suggests a filmmaker willing to take on themes beyond the expected scares, and that kind of ambition deserves a second look. Rediscovery also helps the broader culture. When critics revisit overlooked films, they widen the set of works people talk about, and new viewers get a chance to find something they did not know they needed. A single review may not change a reputation, but it can open a door. For anyone who loves horror, that is a reason to be hopeful about what else might be waiting in the archive.