By the end of the 1960s the Age of Aquarius, once filled with the optimism of a hundred thousand hippies, was going sour. The Manson murders, the Altamont Rolling Stones debacle (not forgetting Sympathy for the Devil) and the rise of Anton LaVey as a celebrity Satanist, hanging out with rock stars and Hollywood A-listers, put the Devil at the forefront of alternative culture. Hack authors like Dennis Wheatley suddenly found themselves back in print with lurid covers usually depicting goat-headed men pawing at naked women, and the idea of witchcraft for many became inextricably linked to sexual freedom. By the early 1970s, if movies and The News of the World were to be believed, the only people getting any sex were wife-swappers and devil worshippers.
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| Alexander Sanders and his young wife Maxine |
Into this rather heady atmosphere, in a typically seedy British manner, stepped Alexander Sanders, who dubbed himself "King of the Witches". He was a Wiccan high priest and talented self-promoter and soon found himself a minor celebrity in the UK. He claimed to have used black magic for most of his life, having been taught by his grandmother, but following the disintegration of his first marriage and family problems which he credited to an abuse of his powers, he decided to use his powers for good. He became a Wiccan in the 1960s, which was well timed for the upsurge in popularity of anything to do with witches and Satanism a few years later.
In 1970 Border Films produced Legend of the Witches, a documentary directed by Malcolm Leigh, who just a year later would direct Lady Chatterley versus Fanny Hill, aka Games That Lovers Play, also for Border. The film, shot in black and white, begins with the night-time initiation rituals of a group of witches. They are all naked with the exception of the priest who wears robes, and they dance in circles around a fire. They also place a blindfold on one man and lead him through the forest, stumbling and falling until he arrives back in the circle. A voiceover, which sounds a bit like Valentine Dyall but most likely is not (sadly there is no credit to suggest who it was), intones throughout the meaning of the rituals whilst also explaining the history of witchcraft, with its pre-christian origins.
The film is an odd mix of naked witches performing rites, including Alexander and his beautiful blonde wife Maxine, alongside images of old English churches and countryside. Monthly Film Bulletin comically described the film as featuring "a good deal of rather goose-pimply nudity." We even get a tour around the witchcraft museum in Cornwall (which sadly got flooded out several years ago). It is artfully shot for the most part, which may explain how the film got past the BBFC despite the copious full-frontal nudity from both sexes. This would have been one of the last films to be viewed by John Trevelyan, coming in just at the point when the X certificate was changed to mean suitable for over-eighteens only. The BBFC were always more lenient on films which they felt had artistic merit, although it does appear that some cuts were made at the time. Despite the nudity the film is not leering or exploitative, which is possibly surprising given its origins as a Border film. Olive Negus-Fancey is credited as producer, with Malcolm Fancey as an assistant director and his half-sister Judith Smith as editor. This was made by Border around the same time they were producing films like Not Tonight, Darling or distributing European movies such as I Am a Nymphomaniac (1971, France, Max Pecas).
One can only imagine how well this film would have been received by punters at the time. Whilst it could have been viewed in all seriousness as an in-depth documentary on a fascinating subject, it was most likely viewed by men in raincoats in basement cinemas around Soho. These posters I have found online would suggest as much.
The film can now be found in its entirety on YouTube, although rumours persist that there is a much longer cut of the film somewhere. The longest commercially available version is seventy-two minutes, which is the same as this one. If there was a longer version it must be languishing in a vault somewhere, or in Malcolm Leigh's shed. It's well worth having a look at, for a number of reasons. Like many films of this ilk, it's a glimpse into the world of our parents and grandparents that they would rather be left behind. The 1970s was a time in British cinema history when a documentary about naked witches could be found in cinemas around the country, and audiences were willing to sit through the boring bits in order to get to the naked bits. Renown Films appear to have inherited the back catalogue and original elements to many Fancey-produced movies. Their new TV channel Talking Pictures TV has screened Legend of the Witches several times, as well as dozens of other long-forgotten rarities from the Fancey vaults. I am still hoping to be able to visit and take a look in those vaults some time.
In the meantime my research into the Fancey family continues. I have finally made contact with a member of the family who may be willing to talk about the business with me. I am optimistic that he will.
