Don’t believe anything you read. Hocus Pocus is a damn good movie. From its opening frame, the 1993 film contains all the magic and wonder you could want from a gateway horror movie – earning its place next to other ‘90s essentials like Halloweentown. It’s got a talking black cat, spooky spellcasting, a zombie, and three children-eating witches – oh my! Released in the height of summer (July 12), the Kenny Ortega-directed feature hasn’t lost its allure. In fact, its legacy is as strong as ever. It’s still an extraordinarily fun picture 30 years later.
Hocus Pocus endures because of nostalgia. In the era of TV reboots, remakes, and requels, millennials yearn for their childhood and a simpler time. There’s a reason we got a completely unnecessary sequel last fall. But more importantly, Hocus Pocus defines an entire generation of horror fans. For many, it was their very first spooky movie. I honestly don’t remember the first time I watched it; I only recall watching it every Halloween since I was seven. It lives next to Tourist Trap, Halloween II, and Poltergeist as my genre entry points. It made me a horror fan with its oddball humor, strong messaging about holding onto one’s imagination, and just enough darkness to worm into your brain. Screenwriters Mick Garris and Neil Cuthbert perfectly balance these elements to deliver a timeless story about youthful curiosity, the importance of sibling relationships, and the bonds of friendship.
With a score composed by John Debney, Hocus Pocus begins its tale in 1690s Salem, where a young girl named Emily (Amanda Shepherd) lives with her brother Thackery Binx (Sean Murray) and their parents. One morning, Thackery awakens to find his sister missing and a plume of purple smoke rising in the distance. “They conjure,” a friend points. Thackery makes a mad dash out into the woods to a secluded cabin. Inside, three witchy sisters Winifred (Bette Midler), Sarah (Sarah Jessica Parker), and Mary (Kathy Najimy) gather around a bubbling cauldron as they cook up a potion that will allow them to suck the lives from all the children of Salem.
Hocus Pocus is dark but not too dark. It walks the line between comedy and horror, never sacrificing one for the other. While dealing with eating children’s souls, it laces up its narrative with tongue-in-cheek jokes about a dead man’s toe and how they’re just “spending a quiet evening at home” when the torch-wielding townsfolk show up at their doorstep. Winifred, Sarah, and Mary are hung for their crimes – and the film actually shows the hanging, or at least the dangling feet. That’s rather disturbing for a PG-rated children’s movie. It’s unflinchingly unafraid to go to such an unsettling place. Even now, it’s still an image burned into my brain.
The film then jumps 300 years and picks up in 1993 Salem. Times have clearly changed. Gone are the Puritan bonnets and cockel hats, exchanged for oversized jeans, tie-dye, and sideways baseball caps. It was a time when tubular was in the vernacular among teens and boomboxes were all the rage. What was once the witch’s home, perfectly nestled in the wood, has now been turned into a museum, which shuttered due to a series of mysterious events. Max (Omri Katz) and his sister Dani (Thora Birch) have recently moved to the area, leaving behind the sun and sandy California beaches. Max plays the cynical, too-cool-for-school older brother who hates Halloween (boy, did I have such a crush on him…), while Dani loves everything about the holiday, including the Sanderson Sisters. So, she naturally dresses up as a witch for trick-or-treating.
During the first day of school, Max attends a class in which Miss Olin (Kathleen Freeman) regales the tale of the three sisters and how Thackery Binx (Sean Murray) met a fate worse than death: eternal life as a feline. “Poor Thackery Binx. Neither his Father nor his Mother nor the entire town ever knew what became of him those 300 years ago,” says Miss Olin. “And so, the Sanderson Sisters were hanged by the Salem town folk. Now, there are those who say that on Halloween Night, a black cat still guards the old Sanderson House, warding off any who might make the Witches come back to life.”
Max scoffs, claiming Halloween was “invented by the candy companies. It’s a conspiracy,” he dismisses. But the roots of the holiday stretch back to ancient culture. “It just so happens that Halloween is based on the ancient feast called All Hallows Eve,” says Allison (Vinessa Shaw), smirking. “It’s the one night of the year where the spirits of the dead can return to Earth.”
Set during the spooky season, it’s not surprising that the film, much like its contemporary Halloweentown, imparts a message about honoring the sacred holiday. Max is the skeptic whereas Allison and Dani are the believers. They fully embrace the magic and mystique. Even when we “grow up,” there’s always an element of such enchantment still buried within us. Hocus Pocus teaches that you can believe in magic at any age and you shouldn’t have to banish those parts of yourself just because you’re an adult. These messages – packed tightly inside an outlandish premise about three diabolical witches, a black cat named Binx, and a zombie known as Billy Butcherson (Doug Jones), Winifred’s lover – hits even harder these days.
When Max, a virgin, lights the Black Flame Candle, Winifred, Sarah, and Mary return from the dead and resume their plot to consume the souls of all the children of Salem. The thread of sexuality is another surprising admission – I remember thinking as a kid, “I know what a virgin is!” Don’t ask me how; I just knew. But can you imagine if I hadn’t? My parents would have had to field some really uncomfortable, embarrassing questions. Then, there’s the matter of Sarah’s overt sexuality. Not only does she have plenty of cleavage (like seriously, she’s poppin’ out!), but she seduces a bus driver and tempts young teenagers into her web. I admit, that last point hasn’t aged all that well, but at the time, I thought it was hilarious!
Hocus Pocus not only nails its humor but its musical numbers, too – in case you forgot. “The witch is back, and there’s hell to pay!” screeches Winifred in one of the film’s showstopping musical numbers. “I Put a Spell on You,” originally written and recorded by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, blows the roof off the joint at a Halloween party where Dani and Max’s parents are in attendance. “Cover your ears! Cover your ears!” the siblings yell over the din of cheers and applause. But their parents don’t take heed and instead must “dance, dance until you die!” howls Winifred, casting a hypnotic dancing spell on the crowd.
Much later, Sarah musically enchants all the children by launching into a delicately haunting performance of “Come Little Children.” The scene is as cool as it is chilling, showing all the town’s children on weary feet lumbering like zombies through the streets to the witch’s cottage. There, Winifred hopes to suck their souls and gain everlasting life. Max, Allison, and Dani impede their work, of course, eventually luring the witches to hallowed ground, on which the witches are not allowed to step. Sacrificing himself for his sister, Max downs the last potion, and Winifred has no other option than to suck his soul. But the sun inches over the horizon. In their struggle on a broom, Max and Winifred tumble out of the air and land in the grass. Winifred faceplants but continues sucking Max’s life force. Her fate is sealed, however. She’s standing on hallowed ground and quickly turns to stone. Mary and Sarah burst into glitter, as the sun’s rays pierce their porcelain flesh. What a finale!
I can’t tell you how transfixed I was by Hocus Pocus. I was not only creeped out – Billy gave me nightmares! – but giddy with dopamine. It was everything I wanted in a Halloween movie, capturing the feeling of crisp autumn days when the days grew short and the moon hung low in the sky. 30 years later, I’ve watched the film probably hundreds of times. And it doesn’t matter the time of year. Literally, I viewed Hocus Pocus just last week, and I’ll watch it again after finishing this piece.
There’s no better way to relive your childhood than watching a favorite over and over again. From the spellbook bound in human flesh to the witches’ sinister playfulness, Hocus Pocus remains one of the greatest children’s horror movies of all time. It’s still so damn magical – and practically perfect in every way.
