The formulaic 90s romcom shouldn’t, in theory, involve accidental murder or exorcising evil spirits. Yet Griffin Dunne’s Practical Magic proves the feminine urge to murder your evil ex-boyfriend (twice) is funny, sexy, even mischievous.
Picture Nicole Kidman with copper hair and curtain bangs, hurtling through an expanse of American highways to a soundtrack featuring Stevie Nicks and Joni Mitchell. Or Stockard Channing and Dianne Wiest as wickedly witchy aunts poised around a kitchen bench, chanting a spell (“Adder’s fork and blindworm’s sting, Barbados lime is just the thing!”) as they blitz together midnight margaritas. Although the term “chick flick” is perhaps outdated, Practical Magic’s alchemy, comedy and darkness has resonated with generations of women – so much so that more than 25 years after its release, Sandra Bullock and Kidman are lined up to reprise their roles in an upcoming sequel.
Based on Alice Hoffman’s 1995 novel, this forgotten film turned cult classic sees Sally (Bullock) and Gillian Owens (Kidman) as sisters from a line of witches bound by a family curse: any man who falls in love with an Owens woman will perish. While Sally swears off love, Gillian throws herself headlong into romance. The two lead connected but separate lives until they are pulled back together as adults when Sally finds herself widowed and Gillian is entangled in an abusive relationship.
Despite opening at No 1 at the box office, Practical Magic didn’t break even on its budget and received mixed reviews from critics; Roger Ebert claimed the film “doesn’t seem sure what tone to adopt, veering uncertainly from horror to laughs to romance”.
In recent times, there has been a much-deserved re-evaluation, particularly among younger audiences who turn to this movie for its witchy aesthetics and cottagecore inspiration. It frequently appears on Letterboxd lists with oddly specific titles, including my favourite: “Movies I think women love but men think are dumb.”
Look beyond the comically flashy visual effects or seemingly confusing plot, and Practical Magic wields a sincerity that is difficult to deny. “I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen,” Sally writes wistfully in a letter to Gillian. She looks up at the moon encircled by a ring and knows that trouble is near.
There is something comforting about a movie that is earnest in its romance and hilariously lighthearted in dealing with conflict. It lingers on the tiniest details: the expression (of a lover?) you can’t quite grasp; how Bullock in light wash denim and a lettuce-trim crop top can evoke a mood so autumnal and cozy you might feel tempted to change your whole wardrobe a season too early. For a movie full of superstitions, there are a lot of ordinary truths to be found.
Watching this film, I am reminded of the times my sister and I crushed rose petals to cast a spell on a wicked man, how I would sleep with bay leaves around my bed to ease anxiety and ward off cockroaches. My mother’s insistence on keeping a worry doll under your pillow is still a practice I carry. There is a generosity in the way the Owens women dance around a kitchen at night; a bounty in their magic house with a garden, growing herbs for eating and healing. Like having brownies for breakfast, Practical Magic is mostly sweet, a little silly and utterly charming.
Practical Magic is available to stream on Stan in Australia and Max in the US, and available to rent in the UK. For more recommendations of what to stream in Australia, click here
