As the credits for Practical Magic 2 started rolling, I turned to my friend and went, “Oh, I would've loved this if it weren't for the–” and then proceeded to name one thing after another, the list growing through a few rounds of back and forth between us.
At some point, it began to feel too much Disney-Marvel-heroes-and-villains. Some scenes felt like they were written to become short social-media clips, with too many one-liners that didn't add anything. C'mon, the professor's “my atoms, your atoms” line… Instead of sounding romantic, it felt forced, almost like it was trying to recreate the “my atoms have always loved your atoms” line from I Origins, where it actually feels earned and in context.
The atmosphere kept changing for me from one scene to another, and at first I couldn't quite pinpoint why. Sometimes it felt so far removed from the 1998 film, and then, suddenly, it didn't. I kept reminding myself: “This was shot digitally, maybe that's why you feel it's so different. Don't get so distracted by that that you lose sight of the film.”
I was longing for the colours, the grain, the cosy and autumnal atmosphere of the first film, which could partly come from the fact that it was shot on 35mm. But then I realised that wasn't really it. Because as soon as the film focused on the girls, whether they were in the house or in hotel rooms, the atmosphere came right back. It had much less to do with how it was shot than with what was happening in the scene.
You see, when I think about Practical Magic, I think about women frolicking around the kitchen and turning on the blender late at night. I think about sisterhood, about a warm, lively house. About magical women who had to learn how to live with their powers and their curse, who had to find in each other true love.
I know the whole plot is about a family of witches who carry a curse that means the men they fall in love with will die. But this is hardly what the film is actually about. And it is not the reason why it's loved so much.
Gilly and Sal's banter is why. The aunts' weird and warm demeanour is why. Their dances around the house, petty fights and midnight margaritas are why. And this is something Practical Magic 2 actually gets right. Gilly and Sal are exactly who they were, I felt transported every time they talked to each other. Nicole and Sandra's ease around one another is a pleasure to watch, and that's what makes Practical Magic the real-imaginary space it is.
The film proves its strengths every time it shows us the women and the girls together. The scenes shot in the bedrooms? They're the gold mine here. The girls talking under the sheets instantly sent me back to Elizabeth and Jane Bennet talking to each other in 2005's Pride & Prejudice. The low lighting, the beautiful pyjamas, the act of lying together talking, sharing thoughts, fears and doubts. We had that in the first, we have this here.
The sisters are the world of Practical Magic. Whether they're the older ones, the ones in the middle or, now, the younger ones. It's less about a family curse, and more about what is carried through the generations. The curse is passed along, yes, but so is the unconditional sisterly love and companionship. The tradition of wearing white wings. Laughing at the table together.
Romantic love was cursed, yes. But not love itself.
And then we have Aunt Frances' arc. I won't say what happens, of course, but there is a moment towards the end that felt like the perfect culmination of everything the story revolves around – the unconditional love between those women. Beautifully shot by a dark lake, with Franny and Jet all dressed up. That's where I think the heart of the film should've stayed.
When we leave the world of Practical Magic in 1998, the curse is still there. I agree that the only way forward was to find a way to break it. But the direction they chose was the problem for me. I hate it when everyone keeps saying how bad a sequel is because it wasn't like the first, or because it wasn't what they'd expected. I'm always like: well, it never is!
Except this time I had nowhere to run.
Practical Magic 2 ended up creating another world, and it wasn't really the cosy world of the original film. And that's where I guess a line needs to be drawn – a sequel has to have novelty, alright, but ultimately it does have to feel like we're in the same world.
We already had new characters to explore: Sally's daughters. The random addition of a second branch of the family, a weird long-distance cousin all the way in England somehow working his way into Kylie's life, felt like a stretch to me.
Professor Ian himself… we didn't need him, at least not that much. There was no need to create this whole second plot of wizards in England, jealous men and their powers (or lack thereof), and so many action sequences. That is not what Practical Magic is about, and it's hardly what people are coming back all these years later to see.
Poor Gideon, but I don't care about him, and I didn't want to. Instead, I wish I knew more about Antonia, Sally's other daughter, whose name I just had to look up because I couldn't remember it. That's how little she mattered in this story.
She's there like a prop in blue scrubs, with the film very casually, almost too subtly, nodding to her being queer. And Kylie is plainly portrayed as a younger version of Gilly. Since Practical Magic is about things that are inherited, why do I know so little about them?
Here, less would've been more. A road trip, a Thelma & Louise type of thing, searching for a way to break the curse. And yeah, we can have hot professors, loads of action and weird cousins. But at the end of the movie, it should feel like we've come to know more about the Owens women.
And then there are the smaller things that kept breaking the illusion. Like the Latin, which sounded so unmistakably American-English in its pronunciation that, I'm sorry, I couldn't help but be dragged out of the magic a little. But to be fair, at this point, I might be nitpicking.
Practical Magic 2 felt like a shiny, gorgeous diamond hiding inside a random grey rock, and instead of just chipping away at the rock to get to the jewel, they tried to decorate it with stickers covered in corny phrases. It was fun, I'm not gonna lie. However, I feel like its destiny is to become a film that's on TV during Halloween craft time. Or to show your hairdresser Nicole Kidman's hair colour (I know I will).
I laughed, I cried. That's usually enough to make me happy. But for a beloved film like that, funnily enough, they actually needed to do less.
