The cult-classic, Hocus Pocus, is revered for many reasons: from the amazing performance of “I Put a Spell on You” by Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Kathy Najimy, to the uber-90’s nostalgic vibes people *cough* millennials *cough* get when they watch it. The movie has stood the test of time and is still a fan favorite, despite being released almost 3 decades ago. There’s a lot to love, which is probably why they finally decided to make a sequel. Hocus Pocus 2 begins streaming on Disney+* tomorrow (Sep 30), just in time for spooky season! It’s been almost 30 years since the OG was released, and if you are anything like me, you’ve watched it at least as many times. But I bet there are a few things you didn’t notice—like how a supposed family movie manages to say the word “virgin” 9 times (“Look, I’ll get it tattooed to my forehead, okay”), or how the witches have selective osmosis of 20th century lingo and culture (see, e.g., Winnie’s attempted citizen’s arrest and Mary’s delectable scrod recipe). You can read about those two examples in the links provided, but for some other odd, little tidbits, sit back and enjoy so that next time you watch the Halloween-must, you can recall fondly this ode to HP (the one about witches, not witches + wizards, duh).
* I have absolutely no affiliation with Disney or Disney+ and definitely am not being paid to write this. If someone wants to change that, just slide into my DM’s
Image description: Lit, white, taper candles in various states of melting stand on a black, multi-level, metal frame
Photo by Bee Felten-Leidel on Unsplash
1. Call Mindy, we got #WhiteSiblings
Let’s start off with my one complaint about this movie: sibling ickyness. This summer, Mindy Kaling went viral when she tweeted: “with white families on tv, the brothers and sisters are always, like flirting with each other.” She’s not wrong. From The Brady Bunch to Dexter, there have been many moments in television (and movies) where white sibling have made us go eww, what were the showrunners thinking? Unfortunately, Hocus Pocus has its fair share of cringeworthy sibling moments, although most of them are between the kids from 1693 Salem (different times, eh?).
Max and Dani Dennison are 15 and 8, respectively, and mirror the sibling relationship we see at the beginning of the movie between Thackery and Emily Binx. There is a sizable gap between those ages, but that in itself isn’t creepy. What is creepy is when Dani teases her brother about his crush on a classmate, Allison. Dani waits in Max’s closet where she spies on him while he snuggles with a pillow on his bed and talks to it like it’s Allison (has he heard of inner dialogue?). Dani bursts out and falls onto the bed telling Max, “I’m Allison, I’m Allison. Kiss me, I’m Allison!” Sure, it’s all fun and games, but still. Ick.
The rest of Max and Dani’s relationship is fairly normal (although my whiteness may be skewing my ick-radar here), and even quite touching. At the beginning of the movie, Max doesn’t even want to take his sister trick-or-treating, but by the end he valiantly sacrifices himself to save her life. I have first-hand experience of big brothers doing incredible things when they think their little sister is in trouble (thanks, bros!), so that part of the movie always tugs at my heartstrings.
That brings us to the Binx children. I’ll skim over the part where the two share a bedroom (it was the 1600’s after all), but after that I think it’s safe to say that Thackery develops an unhealthy attachment to his sister, and later Dani as a stand-in. Sure, he blames himself for his sister’s death, and that plus being turned into a cat who has to wait around for 300 years to see if the witches come back can’t have been easy. But still. He speaks about his sister as though she were his—what? Girlfriend? Wife? Lover?
First, he advises Max to “take good care of Dani” because “you’ll never know how precious she is until you lose her.” It seems like the writers were going for a more parental note here, but it honestly comes across a bit matrimonial. Then, the movie ends with Thackery’s ghost walking off hand in hand with Emily’s, but only after he tells Dani, “I shall always be with you” and kisses her on the cheek. Let me tell you, when I was a kid, that part of the movie made me swoon because I wanted Thackery Binx to kiss my cheek. But looking back, is that really how I should have felt? He is essentially a second big brother/beloved pet to Dani, and watching the movie now as a full-grown adult, it just doesn’t sit right. Ick. Major ick.
2. Teachers, and Cops, and Restaurant Workers, oh my!
Minus the sibling ickyness mentioned above, the writing in Hocus Pocus is absolutely top notch—I will fight anyone who disagrees (but, like, with words only). This screenplay deserves a standing ovation, primarily because all the side characters are #golden. They appear for one line, maybe a few, and then they’re gone. But when they are there, they are 3-dimensional and wonderfully funny. Let’s take a look at 3 of my faves.
First up is Miss Olin, the middle-aged teacher who teaches Max, Allison, and their classmates a light-hearted lesson at the beginning of the movie about child murder, hangings, and witchcraft #becauseSalem. She’s one of those career teachers who is in it for the long haul. She’s seen some things and boy does she know some things. Like which student she can pick on (Max “California-laid-back-tie-dye” Dennison), which student she can scare with her trick ring-turned-streamer (nameless blonde girl who laughs after shrieking and covering her face), and which student she can depend upon to carry the torch in educating the class on the real history of Halloween (Allison “My-style-is-so-90’s-it’s-now-back-in-style” NoLastName). She provides the audience with important back story and does something most teachers only dream of: make high-school learning fun. Miss Olin gets an A+.
Next on my list is good ol’ Eddie. When Allison, Dani, and Max inadvertently bring the witches back to life, they do what all good, white kids in the 90’s did—find a police officer. Enter: white dude on unmarked motorcycle in generic police uniform. The group rushes up to the supposed cop and tells him what happened. He plays his part well and gives the kids a hard time for making up a wild story that couldn’t possibly be true, while also forcing Max to claim his virginity multiple times (see link above). His dedication to his costume is evident in the death stare he gives the kids, and in telling them to get lost (such a good cop!). His female companion then emerges from the liquor store she has been in and asks, “what’s so funny, Eddie?” He answers, “they thought I was a real cop,” and they go riding off into the night, laughing and having a grand time—completely oblivious to the fact that they run over a manhole cover and sever four of Billy “Good Zombie” Butcherson’s fingers. Good times.
Last but not least is my personal favorite: Pirate Seafood Restaurant Employee. That’s right, he has no name. But he has a mission: select the most delicious-looking lobster in the tank that is inexplicably kept in what appears to be a junk-filled alley behind the restaurant. He’s a fun guy—dresses up for Halloween at work even though he would have preferred to spend it at that bumpin’ Town Hall party. But that’s fine, maybe he’ll get the day after Thanksgiving off. He really hasn’t been spending as much time with his parents as he’d like, and you never know when it will be your last holiday with them, do ya? Yeah, he’ll make it home for Thanksgiving, but in the meantime, he’ll stay in good spirits tonight for the restaurant patrons, not to mention the lobsters. After all, those crustaceans don’t deserve to suffer any more than absolutely necessary to become a delicious meal for the Salem tourists visiting because they love “witches and stuff.” No, he will tell those little lobsters they’re going somewhere fun, somewhere with a jacuzzi, and today the lucky lobster will be Angelo. Or maybe I just read too much into his two lines? The world may never know.
3. Dad-cula FTW
To be honest, Mr. Dennison (Max and Dani’s dad) was my inspiration for writing anything about Hocus Pocus. I got the idea of writing about what a superbly underrated movie father he is last year while I was watching the film (as I do at least every October), and had every intention of making that dream come true this year. But alas, there just isn’t enough to make a stand-alone piece for a character who has less than 3 minutes of total screen time (that’s right, I counted). But he deserves something as the most amazing parent in this movie, so here it is.
Let’s start this convo off with a nod to Mr. Dennison’s rad dad jokes. When he asks Max what he is dressed as for Halloween and Max tells him a “rap singer” (notably, not a “rapper”—because he’s so very, very white, and this movie is so very, very 90’s), his response is the absolute best. He says, “Well, your hat should be on sideways, shouldn’t it?” and physically turns it to the side for Max (#classic). My inner teenager cringes so hard at that every time while my very-parent exterior cackles in amusement. He also has the ultimate dad costume at the Town Hall soirée: Dad-cula. At first glance, it looks just like a Dracula costume, and because he’s a dad, well, you can figure the rest out. But no! Upon closer inspection, Mr. Dennison is wearing a full-length, old-man pajama set, complete with tacky, striped bathrobe, under his Dracula cape. Well done, Mr. Dennison. But also, how is he not suffering from heat stroke under all those layers?
The next thing I love about Mr. Dennison is that he actually cares about his kids. From supporting his teenage son’s not wearing shoes as a weird “form of protest” (after Ernie—I mean ICE—steals them in the graveyard), to pretending to be scared by his adorable witch of a daughter, Mr. Dennison really does love his kids. For example, when the kids make it to Town Hall to tell the Dennison parents about the witches’ return, Dani goes to find her mother and Max goes to find his father. Whereas when Dani tells her mom what happened, her mom just asks how much candy she has had and then says they should find her father, but when Max tells his dad, he is a little more open and concerned, saying, “You know how crazy this sounds,” which is much more supportive than saying, “You’re crazy.” The difference between these interactions might have more to do with the age of their kids, but I choose to believe it’s because Mr. Dennison is more open-minded and slower to judgment, aka an outstanding father. Also, he refers to Allison as a “lovely, young blood donor,” which is cringe, but adorably so. Maybe I’m just de-sensitized since I grew up in the 90’s, or maybe (I am just now realizing) I have a low-key crush on Mr. Dennison. Hmmm…
And the final reason I *heart* Mr. Dennison so much is that compared to the other dumpster fires of parents in this movie, he is the gold standard. Let’s start with Mr. Binx and where TF he is when his daughter is lured away by some witch. Apparently, he’s sleeping (Thackery tells his friend, Elijah, to “wake” his father) even though his teenaged son isn’t anymore. And Elijah is so awake he’s like chopping wood or something puritanical and useful. I mean, since when are teenage boys up before the patriarch, no matter the century? And then sure, we see Mr. Binx is worried about his son and angry about his daughter later when the witches are hanged, but where was he when it really mattered? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Next up are Allison’s parents, who are the definition of “the worst.” Not only do they have no idea that their daughter is literally out all night with a strange boy on Halloween, but they throw quite possibly the lamest, rich, white people party in the history of parties (with serious #MakeAmericaColoniesAgain vibes) and make their friends rent or buy extravagant costumes to attend. Why couldn’t they do everyone a favor and just go to the rager at Town Hall? But then they couldn’t prove to everyone how rich and boring they are. Le sigh. Compared to those disasters of parents, Mr. Dennison deserves Father of the Year (even though he did move his family across the country in the middle of the semester—seriously, who does that?). But even without the comparison, he stands on his own.
Now, I may be no Madonna impersonator, but I’ve been known to cut a rug and enjoy a good pun every now and then, so what do you say Mr. Dennison? I hear the bewitching hour is about to begin… ;)