Uncertain spells: the morality of gaming’s witches

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” Glinda famously asks Dorothy in the classic Technicolor fever dream The Wizard of Oz (1939). That question has cast a shadow over the portrayal of witches in popular media for decades. For every villainous Nancy in The Craft (1996) or Gruntilda in Banjo-Kazooie (1998), there’s a virtuous Teen Witch (1989) or Triss in The Witcher (2007).

In games the archetype generally falls into one of these binary categories. A rich canon of both dark and light sorcerers has been conjured up over the years. The countless scarred childhoods caused by the cackling jump scare in the perennial 80s classroom classic Granny’s Garden (1983) are testament to the power and longevity of digital witches.

Some of the earliest games in the relatively short history of video games were built on worlds and rules set by table top fantasy role-playing games such as Dungeons and Dragons, so it’s no surprise to see the righteous sorcerer trope appear in role-playing games to this day. From Lulu in Final Fantasy X (2001) to the students at the magic school in the eagerly anticipated Witchbrook (2023), the genre is overflowing with sorcerers of the light.

Yennefer of Vengerberg, as introduced in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt (2015), is a great example of a ‘good’ witch, who stands in stark contrast to the child-devouring Crones of Crookback Bog from the same game. Based on the character from The Witcher novels by Andrzej Sapkowski, Yennefer is strong-willed, righteous and a master manipulator of both magic and people. The character has become a huge fan favourite, with a dedicated fanbase to rival that of main protagonist Geralt.

Virtuous witch characters can often be relegated to the support role of healer or back-up, but The Witcher gives Triss and Yennefer starring narrative roles in which they can truly unleash their immense power, even if they are sadly unplayable. Hopefully forthcoming entries in the critically acclaimed series will give us the chance to take direct control of the full abilities of these quintessential video game white witches.

In 2009 video game audiences were introduced to a very modern interpretation of a witch, as dusty tomes, pointed hats and incantations were explosively replaced with deadly stilettos, demon-filled hairdos and a heavy dose of camp. Bayonetta blasted onto consoles and immediately catapulted the eponymous witch into the pantheon of iconic action characters, while also establishing the fledging PlatinumGames as the go-to studio for complex and stylish action gameplay.

Blurring the lines between the traditional ‘good’ and ‘bad’ witch archetypes, the game asks “why not both?” Building on elements from Dante’s Divine Comedy, Bayonetta is an ancient witch who finds herself locked in battle against the forces of Heaven (aka Paradiso) as (in classic Japanese video game fashion) she seeks to regain her lost memories.

The character is a vision in black leather – purring in an upper-class English accent, she struts through the chaotic levels like a catwalk model, her physically impossible long legs a blur as gunfire rains from all four limbs at once. The game has an impish sense of humour – the over-the-top confident sexuality of the main character walking a tight-rope between objectification and empowerment while the religious elements often verge towards the openly blasphemous. Take, for example, the opening, which sees Bayonetta disguised as a nun in a cemetery so she can launch a surprise attack when a group of angels descend to take the departed to Heaven.

Echoing luridly provocative ‘nunsploitation’ films such as Killer Nun (1978) or School of the Holy Beast (1974), the game delights in subverting Christian imagery and breaking taboos. “Do you naughty little angels deserve a good spanking?,” Bayonetta eye-rolls before breathlessly wiping out the angelic army with a coffin full of demonic guns. The game design sarcastically drips with the pomp and gaudy excess that can sometimes exist around religion, with sub-levels split into ‘verses’, angels given gold-tinged choir-fuelled holy introductions, and humans cast as mere pawns caught in an endless war between Paradiso and Inferno. 

Given the all too real historical persecution of innocent women under false accusations of witchcraft at various points in history, there’s something cathartic about seeing an unapologetic ‘genuine’ witch confidently striking back at her religious oppressors in a way that is rarely seen in any kind of media. Bayonetta offers a taste of witchcraft revenge that is naughty, excessive and unashamed to revel in the hedonistic delights of the dark arts. It’s only fitting that the game ends with Bayonetta punching God directly into the sun.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned from the insect commanding Dimitrescu sisters in Resident Evil Village (2021) and the sobbing crones in Left 4 Dead (2008), it’s that witches aren’t always gun-toting femme fatales or powerful magicians on the side of good. Sometimes they are just plain evil. As Udo Kier states in Dario Argento’s legendary horror film Suspiria (1977), “They are malefic, negative and destructive. Their knowledge of the art of the occult gives them tremendous powers. They can change the course of events and people’s lives, through harm.”

FromSoftware’s pitch-black Victorian nightmare Bloodborne (2015) isn’t short of legendary European folk horrors to threaten the player with. Rotting werewolves violently rip at the player’s flesh, indescribable eldritch horrors infest the crumbling churches, and the notorious Witches of Hemwick haunt a crooked house on a hill. Playing on the notion of witches as deceivers, players battle against the sisters in a dank basement strewn with the hanging corpses of their previous victims. Unlike the other bosses in the game, who insist on making grand gothic entrances, the witches delight in hiding themselves from the player as they send an army of scythe-wielding shapeless monsters out to do their evil bidding.

Your eyes might thank you for their deception though, as they are true horror to behold in the flesh. Almost identical, both witches appear as hunched over old women with rotted teeth, sallow sagging faces covered in filthy hair, and armed with razor-sharp claws. Most horrifying of all is the fact that they both covered in dozens and dozens of eyeballs, each one glistening and goggling in the dark – a true trypophobic nightmare. Get too close to one of these deadly sisters and they will happily gouge your eyes out as they lust after more ocular prizes for their morbid collection.

Bloodborne’s lore is notoriously vague and contested, but the game gives enough clues to suggest that the witches collect the eyeballs for use in dark magic and live next to a sprawling graveyard so they can easily dispose of their victims. The gameplay mechanics also cleverly weave in the idea of the witches working together as a close coven, their bond of wicked sisterhood allowing them to revive one another when downed by the player. Bloodborne offers a grotesque exploration of tropes around the traditional European wicked witch, all filtered through the ghastly creature designs and integrated gameplay elements of a developer who truly understands how to uncomfortably probe at the uncanny recesses of the imagination.

Indie developers have also explored the darker side of the traditional witch over the years, and one that made a splash on the scene is the deceptively simple, The Witch’s House. Originally released in 2012, the title was built entirely in RPG Maker XV by developer Frummy. The use of this specific game design tool lends the game a top-down anime design that echoes other hit indie horror projects such as Corpse Party (1996) – a title that mixes the cute and gory in a disturbing package. Look beyond the 16-bit stylings of The Witch’s House and you’ll also find a game dripping in atmosphere and cruelty, with an ending that rivals Night of the Living Dead (1968) or The Mist (2007) for shock value and a sense of sheer hopelessness.

The plot tells of blonde innocent Viola, who finds herself trapped in a deadly mansion belonging to a witch called Ellen, with only a mysterious talking cat for companionship and diary excerpts to clue her in to what is going on. The game expertly plays with concepts such as the unreliable narrator in order to create a world and narrative that seems to constantly be shifting and transforming under the feet of the player. A gruesome death lurks around every corner in a game that explores what it means to be labelled as ‘evil’. Combining tricky puzzles with a sombre narrative that touches on subjects around child neglect and terminal illness, The Witch’s House is a perfect example of the shadow world that can be created when exploring the dark side of witchcraft.

Look on any digital storefront and you’ll find countless casual games featuring cute witches mixing colourful spells in saccharine puzzle games, alongside visual novels featuring anime teen witches. From the earliest days of the form, video game designers have looked to the dark arts for inspiration, gifting us a rich legacy of both good and evil digital witchcraft just waiting to magic away our free time.