You gonna write us a happy ending, Heather?: How THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT connects to Freud’s theory of personality, Scooby-Doo, and my heart

The Blair Witch Project is one of the most divisive horror movies out there. In my humble little opinion, I think it’s one of the best horror movies of all time. Not only did it redefine the found footage horror genre but it created an entire pop culture phenomenon, including The Scooby-Doo Project, which is Cartoon Network’s self-referential parody of the film that is something akin to Space Ghost: Coast To Coast (which you can still watch in its entirety here: https://youtu.be/FAe5oZpDMgs). They created an entire documentary about the mythology of The Blair Witch. They made people actually believe Heather Donohue, Josh Leonard, and Mike Williams were missing persons. They devoted an entire website to the cause that STILL exists to this day, even if we can’t play most of the videos. They also created a beautiful representation of Freud’s theory of personality through Josh (the id), Heather (the ego), and Mike (the super ego).

If you don’t know the premise of The Blair Witch Project, I’ll give you the CliffsNotes version. Three film students allegedly disappeared in 1994 while they were filming a documentary in the woods, and the only thing ever recovered was their footage. The film was presented to the public as true story, and it launched a marketing campaign that is truly unparalleled. There were missing person posters printed up, a companion film made that watches like a History Channel-style documentary (it’s now a special feature on the DVD, or if you’re a super fan like me, you can still buy the VHS bundle on the Internet), and the aforementioned website was created, including crime scene photos and diary entries written from Heather’s POV. It was absolutely revolutionary.

In addition to writing this entire narrative, all of the townspeople in the movie are actually planted, but Heather, Josh, and Mike were told they were all real. The three were subjected to multiple surprises and scares throughout filming, and many of their reactions were real, including the famous line screamed by Heather, “What the fuck was that?” I simply can’t rave enough about the brilliance of this movie, including how it perfectly showcases the id, the ego, and the super ego. Now, I don’t have any idea whether or not Directors and Writers Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez intentionally created this comparison, knowing that 21 years later (WOOF), your friendly, neighborhood film reviewer would construe it as such, but here we are, so buckle up (I promise you’ll keep your teeth and pieces of your flannel shirt). 

Let’s start with Josh, our id.

Josh is the first to bring out the alcohol when our terror trio are at their hotel before embarking on their hellish hike. Josh is the most aggressive of the three when they get lost in the forest. Josh gets unnecessarily agitated when they run out of cigarettes. Josh screams at both of his companions and tries to attack Mike after finding out he purposely lost the map. Most importantly, Josh is the first to go missing. As the id, Josh’s disappearance represents the gang losing their basic primal instincts like smoking, eating, and sleeping. He can’t comprehend what’s happening. He immediately chooses anger when his stuff is covered in ectoplasmic goo and refuses to accept any rational explanation. He’s volatile. He’s argumentative. He’s our id. 

Next up, we have Heather, our ego.

Heather personifies ego in every sense of the word. She’s recording every second of their terrifying trek. She refuses to put the camera down. She’s our navigator. She steps in when Josh tries to hit Mike after they find out Mike “kicked that fucking map in the river yesterday.” She and Josh are CONSTANTLY at odds because the id and ego serve as foils for one another. She doesn’t accept defeat until the very end (even though she’s shrieking the entire time). She can’t stop recording because it’s her coping mechanism. She takes one of the totems and knocks over the rocks because it’s what she thinks is right, and she doesn’t care about the consequences. She’s trying to make the perfect film while also trying to find a solution in their frightening forest. She’s our ego. 

Finally, we have Mike, our super ego.

Mike is the moral compass of the creepy camp. He steps in to correct Heather and Josh when they get a Gillian’s Island character wrong (which is honestly a lovely bit of foreshadowing since our heroes will soon be trapped themselves) and matter-of-factly says, “Let’s not call him ‘The Captain,’ you illiterate TV people. It’s ‘The Skipper.’” He destroys the map to represent the group losing their moral and actual sense of direction. He’s not only chosen as the one to face the wall to honor a legend but to represent that morality has turned its back on the trio. He’s the subject of many a fan theory that claims he actually survived because he was the purest of the three. He’s the voice of reason. He’s the moral backbone. He’s our super ego. 

Over 20 years ago (again WOOF), Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez took a giant risk, and it absolutely paid off. They made something that can never be replicated in our technologically savvy world. They created centuries worth of lore and storytelling for an 81 minute film whose antagonist is never seen. They molded an entire genre that would pave the way for [REC] and Cloverfield and Paranormal Activity and so many others. They made a masterpiece with an ambiguous ending that has spawned a multitude of fan theories. They made a conversation piece as well as a piece of zeitgeist that perfectly encapsulates the ’90s. Most importantly, they made a damn good movie. Heather may not be able to write us a happy ending, but Myrick and Sanchez wrote us an ending I’m happy with, and I’m not apologizing to anyone’s mom about it.