Hocus Pocus 2 (2022)

Score: 4 / 5

The witches are back, and there's hell to pay! Almost 30 years after the original, Hocus Pocus 2 graces us this Halloween season, exclusively on Disney+. It's pretty much what we all want and expect, give or take a few elements (and depending on your preferences). Specifically, it heaps on the nostalgia in tribute to the beloved original; some may decry its surprising diversity and inclusivity of realistic demographics, and probably the same detractors will mock its heartfelt efforts to be genuinely sweet, while others will consider its relative lack of violence, scares, or even genuine stakes a shallow substitute for camp, which has been almost entirely sanitized. But it's still a rollicking good time, and we can all be grateful for that.

In the present, Salem celebrates Halloween with renewed vigor. Becca (Whitney Peak) and Izzy (Belissa Escobedo) are two high school friends eager to observe the holiday with their own tradition: dabbling in white magic and having a sleepover for Becca's birthday. After school, they hurry to their favorite haunt, the historic Sanderson house, now a little magic shop run by Gilbert (Sam Richardson), where they stock up on sage and salt and whatever else they want. This time, he even gives them an infamous black flame candle. They're a bit down because their third friend, Cassie (Lilia Buckingham), isn't joining them, as she's been spending all her time with her new boyfriend. But that won't stop them entirely, so they venture into the woods and light the candle under a full moon. They seem to be well aware of the virginity requirement, but they either discount it as a sexist tradition or otherwise don't care, because soon enough the Sanderson sisters materialize in the flesh.

Their goal is much the same as before: to live forever and not disappear by morning's light. As corralling local kiddos to eat didn't work so well before, they try a different tactic this time: using a forbidden spell to become all-powerful. This film begins with a flashback to colonial Salem when the sisters, as little more than orphaned children, are banished from the village. The Reverend Traske (Tony Hale) decided to match the eldest sister, Winnie, with a young man from the village and send the younger sisters to live with other families until they come of age. Winnie naturally refuses, and the Pilgrims banish them from town. Together in the woods, the young girls meet a stylish and beautiful witch (Hannah Waddingham, dressed suspiciously like young Dani in the previous film) who initially appears eager to feed on their lives. Once Winnie is revealed to be a witch, the matronly sorceress gifts them her own spellbook, a sentient "Book" with a living human eyeball on the cover, and expresses wistful praise that the sisters' love is admirable and precious and will make them a strong coven indeed.

As the witches search for Book in the present day, they come across signs for the upcoming mayoral election, advertising that Traske's descendant is alive and well (also played by Tony Hale). He's Cassie's father, interestingly enough, and for the witches to enact their spell, they need the blood of an enemy: his. And so ensues the expected madcap romp through a Halloween paradise, each party chasing some magical item, potion ingredient, or missing person. The humor is mostly wholesome and surprisingly witty, as when the witches enter a Walgreens and drink lotions to feel young again. There are now two musical numbers the witches perform, though one excellent one would have been better than two odd choices even more oddly executed. The filmmakers graciously offer some queer content too, including a drag-inclusive Sanderson Sister Halloween costume contest and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment of Winnie flying past an apartment window where two gay men are cuddling on the sofa and watching the original film; naturally, she sneers and flies on.

It's an odd move, this legacy sequel. Released exclusively on the streaming platform, almost three decades after the original, it begs the question, "Why now?" It seems to answer its own question with a "why not?" But with so much clamoring for a sequel for so many years, it's a bit tough to swallow that this might be a bit too little, a bit too late. The filmmakers express their love of the original in so many ways, not least of which in bringing back Bette Midler, Kathy Najimy, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Doug Jones in all their glory, though Midler in particular has to fight to keep up energy with her younger costars. But they've also sanitized a lot of it, taking out much of the bite (literally) of the original by not making the witches overtly cannibalistic or even scary (there is one jump scare in the original that gets me to this day). The overplayed "virgin" bit of the original is mostly absent here, thankfully, but so too are a lot of the edgy sexual innuendos (such as the fake cop scene, bus scene, and Satan scene) that make the film so delightfully and disguisedly raunchy. Instead, there is a lot of heartfelt nostalgia this time, and earnest messaging about the love between sisters and the sacredness of sisterhood in general. It's not "better" or "worse," just different, and ultimately a nice addendum -- if not quite companion piece -- to the original classic.