Witchhammer 1970

In the 1670s Moravia, an altar boy notices an old woman hiding the bread given out during communion. He quickly alerts the priest, who confronts the woman. She admits that she took the bread with the intent to give it to a cow to re-enable its milk production. The priest reports the incident to the owner of the local estate, who then calls in an inquisitor, Boblig von Edelstadt. With a strict reliance on the medieval manual Malleus Maleficarum, he launches an ever-escalating series of trials. The tribunal wields thumbscrews in its interrogations, presenting torture as a sanctioned tool of justice, even as such harsh methods draw scrutiny.

Amid the escalating crackdown, a priest, Kryštof Lautner, speaks out against the inhumane procedures, and another clergyman senses that many of the accused women may be innocent, praying for the heavy-handed trials to stop. Boblig’s power begins to feel precarious as fear and zeal mix in the courtroom.

Boblig comes to fear Lautner, and one of the accused testifies against Lautner and his cook, Zuzana. Lautner is pressured about having a cook and about playing the violin—two acts deemed unconventional for a clergyman. He explains that his late mother took Zuzana in, and that he kept her because the girl had nowhere else to go. The drama widens as Lautner’s friends, the Sattlers, who own property slated for confiscation by the tribunal, are forced to confess that they accompanied Lautner and Zuzana to Peter’s Rock, engaged in fornication and worshiping Lucifer. Under torture, Zuzana is driven to insanity and confesses.

Lautner denies that his friends are telling the truth, while admitting that he himself took Zuzana’s virginity. The tribunal ultimately weighs the volume of confessions against his declared innocence, and the 36 confessions prevail. In the end, Boblig’s confidence swells as he proclaims that he has risen above all ordinary men, solidifying his grip on power and the course of the proceedings. The tale unfolds with a grim reminder of how fear, religion, and authority can intertwine to crush dissent and blur the line between justice and vengeance.