As we are here in the Halloween season, I thought I’d take a look at a perennial favorite which I like, which I saw multiple times at the dollar theatre back in the day, and which I’ve always had somewhat mixed feelings about.
The Craft (1996)
Andrew Fleming and Peter Filardi’s teen witch flick makes good use of a personable young cast and stands as a solid piece of mid-90s memorabilia, delivering the entertaining tale of a band of young female outcasts finding empowerment and friendship, mixed with a heavy dose of somewhat reactionary Hollywood tropes. It also, in its style, soundtrack, and TV-teen drama-based-casting, presaged the late 90s slasher cycle which Scream would kick off only 7 months later. It is very much a memento of a time and a place, and while that means that it is rich with nostalgic value, it has more than that going for it, even if some elements of its final act leave a bad taste in my mouth.
The story follows Sarah (Robin Tunney), a teen with past suicidal tendencies, who has just moved to a new town with her father and stepmother. Her first day at school, she is both immediately interested in Chris (Skeet Ulrich), an alpha male, grabby handed, rumor spreading football dude, and a group of standoffish girls who she is warned to stay away from by some other popular types, told that they are ‘witches.’ Ignoring all advice, she befriends the three wannabe magic users, each of whom is a persona-non-grata in her own way.
Nancy (Fairuza Balk) is a goth kid who, despite the fact that she’s somehow going to a posh, private Catholic school, is dirt poor from an abusive home. Bonnie (Neve Campbell, in her first film role) is covered with burns over most of her body and is very withdrawn. Rochelle (Rachel True) endures racist bullying at school, largely from a pretty blonde girl on her swim team. The three have been practicing witchcraft together, seeking strength in the face of the everyday cruelty they encounter, but we don’t see much evidence that they have been able to summon much in the way of aptitude in this domain.
It turns out that Sarah has always had real magic but has never understood or sought to harness it. The three girls invite her to join them and complete their coven and soon, they’re casting love spells with dire consequences, cursing their enemies, and climbing out of poverty. Finally, Nancy convinces them to try a more serious spell in search of more aggressive power tipping her over into full blown psycho territory and resulting in a string of corpses of some not terribly nice people (and some perfectly pleasant beached sharks). Sarah tries to detach herself from the others, but they come after her, making it appear that her family has died in an accident and trying to push her to kill herself (more successfully than her previous attempt). She taps into the natural power within, communes with the same ancient force powering Nancy, and triumphs, leaving Nancy institutionalized and the other two powerless. She has risen to her full potency and self-confidence.
There is much to like here. First off, no one has ever gone broke selling an empowering story of outsiders finding support and power in each other, and taking revenge on bullies. The interplay between the four leads is strong. It’s easy to buy into their friendship, just as it’s easy to sympathize with their plights. Seeing glimpses of Nancy’s home life, Rochelle fielding racial slurs, or Bonnie undergoing painful skin treatments, desperate not to feel like a freak anymore, you want them to rise above all this. And as they first tap into actual magic, it is fun. It is thrilling. It’s exciting to see power bestowed upon the powerless, and when they first start striking out at those who have wronged them, it’s hard to blame them. Similarly, at the end, when Sarah really finds her own power and pushes back against the others, it is easy to cheer her on as she becomes more self-assured—as she becomes herself.
Beyond that, there is a nice young energy, a soundtrack that summons a feeling of ‘96, some capably designed magic effects (notably, a nice bit when the shadows of some window ironwork transform into snakes—it holds up), and in all four of the leads, some enjoyable young performers who deliver the goods. There are reasons that this mild success became a bit of a beloved cult classic, especially for those who saw in it a celebration of the freak-outsider overcoming the awful, boring, and cruel pettiness of the pretty, “normal” people.
But, something always felt off about the ending, and I think on re-watch, I might be able to clarify it. So, it is not surprising that these girls, once they have power, start to abuse it, and that it goes to a dangerous place. This is as standard a progression as any in the Western canon. As viewers, we get pulled in with the charge of new power and the potential to strike out at hateful jerks, and then we are shown, by the end, the wicked path to which that inevitably leads. But especially because the friendship between the four landed so well, it feels frustrating and disappointing when they so rapidly turn against each other and ‘go evil’ to serve the demands of the plot. The way the film suddenly paints these characters as villainous, who seem to finally be getting their due, feels like some kind of narrative betrayal akin to Allie Sheedy’s character at the end of The Breakfast Club trading in her black clad, idiosyncratic identity to put on a lot of pink girly bows and kiss a cute boy.
And there’s something larger at work in this particular story arc—probably unintended by the writers, but nonetheless present. The three initial witches are all cast offs of society, with Nancy standing out in her poverty and domestic abuse. They all live and operate in a world of wealth and privilege: an expensive looking private school in or near LA. When these powerless figures get a taste of power, they use it violently, lashing out at their former oppressors. The poor, the ugly, the black are new to having power and they can’t be trusted to use it responsibly. In their rage, they endanger the stability of a rich, white, misogynistic society, and therefore, must be quelled.
Sarah, on the other hand, her power stemming from her mother who had died giving birth to her, is old money. (Not to mention that, based on her home and neighborhood, her family is, in fact, loaded) She was born with her power—she didn’t have to take it from anywhere. All she had to do was accept the position she had inherited and she could triumph over the other three, ultimately putting them all back in their place, fully chastised for daring to rise above their respective stations. Again, it’s doubtful the writers had any polemic in mind when penning this, but the final act does dampen any sense that the film is actually on the side of the disenfranchised. It may sell itself that way on the surface, but in all actuality, it serves to reify the status quo of capital, position, race, and, um, magic. All of this should be unsurprising, given the extent to which it is the product of big, entrenched business, in the form of a Hollywood movie studio (Columbia). But still, it does feel like a let-down.
All of that said, it is still a rather enjoyable watch. The camaraderie and the initial wish fulfillment fantasy both offer real pleasures. The story, if somewhat predictable and socio-politically regressive, plays out engagingly. Finally, even if the ending disappoints, it is played well. The final confrontation looks cool, is exciting, and, in Fairuza Balk’s Nancy, features a great, crazy, unhinged performance. Much about this does still play well and rewards repeat viewing, but, may require overlooking a bit of an astringent aftertaste.