Exclusive: Mysticism, Modernity, and the Power of Belief - An Interview With 'Hood Witch' Director Saïd Belktibia
- Romey Norton
- Mar 22
- 7 min read
By Romey Norton - March 22, 2025
Hood Witch explores the collision of mysticism and modern technology, raising urgent questions about belief, survival, and digital influence. Centered on Nour, a woman caught between ancient rituals and social media’s unregulated power, the film offers a gripping reflection of contemporary society.
In this interview, Saïd Belktibia discusses the film’s inspirations, its social commentary, and the striking performance of Golshifteh Farahani. From raw storytelling to bold cinematography, Hood Witch captures a reality both haunting and deeply relevant.
Read on for insights into the film’s creation and the powerful questions it leaves behind.
Hood Witch mixes mysticism with modern technology in a way that feels eerily relevant. What inspired you to explore this blend of ancient traditions and digital platforms?
I wanted to combine these two elements because access to social media is incredibly simple and fast today. It allows information—whether true or false—to spread instantly. We’re living in a time when many people have lost trust in institutions and medicine, and some simply don’t have the financial means to access them. Social media, with its immediacy and instant-consumption model, has become a fertile ground for these kinds of phenomena. That’s why we see dramatic consequences—there’s no regulation, no real analysis or reflection, at least for some users.
Nour’s journey is both deeply personal and politically charged. Did you always envision the film as a social commentary, or did that develop as the story took shape?
I didn’t set out to make a film that was purely a statement or riding a trend—I wanted to create something deeply sincere about the condition and image of women. I grew up in a single-parent household, raised by my mother. She came to France without knowing how to read or write, and from a young age, I witnessed the many forms of discrimination and inequality that women can face in this world. This isn’t just a surface-level stance or a fashionable cause—it’s something I’ve lived, observed, and felt the need to express through this film.
My approach isn’t black and white. I wanted to show different sides of this woman—she can be strong, naïve, intelligent, loving. It was a deliberate choice to be as realistic and sincere as possible in portraying the image of a modern woman living in the suburbs.
Golshifteh Farahani delivers a powerhouse performance. What drew you to her for the role of Nour, and how did you work together to shape her character?
It wasn’t even a choice to have Golshifteh—it was truly a privilege. To me, she is one of the greatest and most remarkable actresses of her generation—she’s simply exceptional.
I was drawn to her because of the values she stands for. Her purity and honesty in everything she does created a natural foundation for us to connect and build this film together—whether in writing or in her performance. More than anything, she gave me the incredible opportunity to direct her. And when you work with someone that talented, everything just flows effortlessly.
There are many scenes which are visually stunning. Can you talk about your approach to cinematography and symbolism in the film?
My goal was to create a true cinematic work. Nowadays, maybe due to the times we live in, people tend to forget that cinema is, above all, a visual art.
Personally, when I go to the theatre, pay for my ticket, and end up watching a poorly lit, basic shot-reverse-shot sequence where no effort is made to visually enhance the story, I find it frustrating. For me, it was a real commitment to make a film that, even with an intense narrative, remains visually compelling.
But it’s also cultural and personal. I love seeing beautiful things, and I love capturing and portraying the beauty of this world. To me, cinema is not just about storytelling—it’s also about elevating and magnifying what surrounds us.
Hood Witch tackles heavy themes like misogyny, xenophobia, and cancel culture. Were there any moments during filming where you thought, ‘Wow, this is really going to spark debate’?
Yes, I tackled these subjects, but I think what scares people the most isn’t necessarily the sight of a knife, a throat being slit, or zombies. What’s truly terrifying in today’s world is being confronted with the reality of the world we live in.
What concerns me the most is that many people don’t want to see, understand, or reflect on the society around them. Maybe that’s also why some people chose not to watch my film—because it’s a reflection of our time and, above all, brutally realistic.
Does it aim to make people think or awaken something in them? I don’t know, and it would be pretentious to claim so. My intention was simply to capture a snapshot of the world as I see and experience it. And perhaps that’s where the real debate lies—are we truly willing to face reality when it’s shown to us?
Nour’s app is such a unique plot device—would you actually want to see an app like this exist in real life, or do you think it would be just as risky as it is in the film?
But this app already exists in the world we live in. Social media, instant access, WhatsApp groups, psychic apps… Everything is available now, with just a phone.
I could buy the heart of a 60-year-old person, firearms, or incredibly rare plants from the other side of the world—all with just a few clicks. Globalization has made everything possible, and extreme capitalism, the Uberization of life, has naturally and seamlessly brought this app into existence.
The real question is whether it will ever be regulated in certain countries. Look at Africa—there are WhatsApp groups dedicated to spiritual healers. In China, this kind of system is already well established. The entire world has become one massive app. This app is already here.
We are both its creators and its consumers. We fuel this system, generating either supply or demand. This model already exists, and we are the ones keeping it alive.
Were there any films or filmmakers that influenced your style for Hood Witch?
I was part of a collective called Kourtrajmé, alongside Ladj Ly, Kim Chapiron, and Romain Gavras. A few years ago, we were invited to be on the jury of a genre film festival, and that’s where I came across I Saw the Devil by Kim Jee-woon. At that precise moment, I knew this was the kind of cinema I wanted to make.
Korean culture, its artistic commitment, its beauty, its finesse, and its impeccable sense of atmosphere hit me like a wave. What struck me the most was the way it portrayed violence—not necessarily vulgar, but still powerful and impactful. That convinced me to take inspiration from it, to immerse myself in their references, because I found it incredibly precise and beautiful.
For me, the scene where the son is going through an exorcism/being tortured by two older men, stuck with me as it was hard and intense to watch. Is there a scene you’re particularly proud of or that sticks with you as the director?
What I’m most proud of, or at least what gave me the greatest satisfaction, was managing to convey my message and getting my actors to fully embrace my vision. I had a very clear idea of where I wanted to take this film, to make it something deeply personal. Hood Witch has a unique approach in the way it tells its story.
Bringing my actors to such a level of intensity and commitment was incredibly rewarding. Take Golshifteh, for example—she spent the entire shoot running. She was constantly moving, jumping, lying in the dirt, working with animals—some of them dangerous—filming in freezing conditions… and she never once complained. None of the actors did. In fact, they kept asking for more.
It was an extraordinary experience, a true moment of life and shared passion. Despite the intensity of the film, there was so much love on set, so much connection between everyone. This is something that will stay with me forever. And yes, I’m truly proud to have lived that moment with them.
At its core, this is a story about survival, motherhood, and identity. What do you hope audiences take away from Nour’s struggle and resilience?
I don’t want anything in particular—having expectations would be pretentious on my part. What I do hope, however, is that I have accurately reflected the reality of a woman in today’s world, living in the suburbs of Paris. Without judgment, staying as true as possible to the world we live in.
My question is this: some people have beliefs and hold onto them deeply, while others don’t. As a filmmaker, as a man living in this world, I have no right to judge those beliefs or the people who carry them. That’s not my role. My perspective is meant to be sincere and neutral, without imposing a point of view.
And then, there’s a question that lingers, one that remains—and honestly, I don’t have the answer. Maybe you do. What is a witch? Is a witch simply a woman? A woman trying to break free? A woman who is forced to accept the unacceptable, like being violated? A woman who deceives or takes from others? I don’t know.
And finally, what are you working on next, what should fans and audiences be looking out for?
I’m writing new stories, and I’ve been offered several projects. I’m still in that stage of reflection, figuring out the right path to take next.
But more than anything, I hope to have the opportunity to keep expressing myself through this kind of film. These are stories that are often difficult to fund because they don’t always fit within traditional industry moulds.
Yet, this is what I love to do—bringing to light a beauty that many no longer take the time to see.
Read our review for Hood Witch HERE
Out now on digital platforms