Voodoo (1933): A Colonial Fever Dream on Film

Wait, he was a King?

If you enjoy movies that feel like a fever dream from a forgotten library shelf, you might actually get a kick out of Voodoo. It’s definitely not for anyone looking for a standard narrative. It’s slow, it’s dated, and the whole premise—a Marine becoming a local ruler—feels like something plucked out of a bizarre alternate history novel.

Fred Shields basically just walks around looking like he’s having the time of his life, while the locals look... well, they look like people being filmed by a guy with a camera in 1933. It’s an uneasy watch if you think too hard about the power dynamics involved. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the movie just sort of drifts along.

The cinematography has that grainy, flickering quality that makes everything look like it’s happening underwater. It’s kind of hypnotic, in a weird, dusty way. There is a specific shot of the shoreline that lasts about thirty seconds too long, where literally nothing happens except the tide coming in. I found myself staring at a rock in the foreground, wondering if it was still there today.

Oddities and Observations

• The title is a bit of a bait-and-switch. Don't expect supernatural thrills.
• The way Shields talks about his 'subjects' is... something else. Very much a product of its time.
• I’m pretty sure the editing was done with a pair of rusty scissors.
• There’s a moment where a goat wanders into the frame and just stares at the lens for a solid ten seconds. That goat was the best actor in the whole production.

Compared to something more polished like The Power and the Glory, this feels incredibly thin. It lacks any real structure. It’s less of a documentary and more of a 'look where I went and what they let me do' highlight reel.

I wouldn't call it a 'masterpiece' or anything. If you’re looking for high-concept cinema, go watch Fragment of an Empire instead. But for a rainy afternoon when you want to feel like you’ve traveled back to a very strange, very specific point in history? It works.

It’s not trying to be profound, which is probably why I didn't hate it. It’s just... there. Like an old postcard you found in an attic that makes you go, 'Huh, that’s weird,' before you put it back in the box. 🌴