Hocus Pocus came out when I was 9 years old. Please don’t do the math on how old that makes me now. We’re here to talk about Halloween, not my rapidly approaching mortality.
What I will say is that I've been watching this movie for most of my life, which feels slightly absurd when you consider the plot. Hocus Pocus is completely ridiculous, in the best way, and that’s why we love it.
Winifred Sanderson is permanently two seconds away from a full-blown meltdown. Sarah is, well, Sarah. Mary’s trying to smell children like that is a perfectly normal thing to be doing. Thackery Binx is a literal cat for most of the movie, which is a pretty rough deal for a guy who started out as a teenage boy.
Meanwhile, Billy Butcherson gets dragged back from the dead, discovers he can’t open his mouth, and still manages to have one of the more productive nights in Salem. And because three resurrected witches aren’t enough, Max is also trying to impress Allison while Dani is basically the third wheel nobody asked for.
“Oh look. Another glorious morning. Makes me sick!”
The whole thing is weirdly comforting, and when October rolls around, we settle in for the adventure of it all.
Apparently, This Is A Halloween Tradition Now
You know the moment.
The decorations come out, Halloween candy starts appearing in the grocery store, and eventually somebody puts Hocus Pocus on.
For me, the movie has been around long enough that it’s tied to every version of me who watched it before. There were middle school sleepovers when Hocus Pocus was just part of the evening, high school Halloweens when it played in the background while everyone was getting ready, and random weeknights with my sorority sisters when we watched reruns because, of course, Hocus Pocus was always worth watching again.
That’s one of the weird things about growing up with a movie you love. Every time the opening credits come on, you remember the life you had around it.
And then, eventually, you get to introduce it to your kids.
A few years ago, I showed it to my kids for the first time. I had one of those brief parenting moments where I thought, Wait. I am voluntarily introducing my children to a movie about three witches who want to murder children. Parent of the year over here.
When it ended, I asked them, “Did you like it?”
My daughter immediately jumped up.
“AMOK! AMOK! AMOK!”
Okay, then.
My son’s reaction was considerably less enthusiastic.
“Eh. It was okay.”
Fair enough. My daughter was ready to join the Sanderson sisters, and my son gave the movie a polite two-star review. You win some, you lose some.
So How Did This Become A Classic?
Here’s where things get a little weird.
Hocus Pocus came out in July.
July.
I will never understand the decision to release a movie this aggressively Halloween in the middle of summer. Somewhere at Disney, someone looked at three witches, Salem, a black-flame candle, and a story about stealing children’s souls and said, “Perfect. July it is!”
The movie also had a fairly modest theatrical run in 1993. The future centerpiece of Halloween was still waiting for its audience.
People kept watching it, though. Television gave it more chances to find an audience, Halloween gave it a reason to come back every year, and kids who grew up with it remembered it well enough to introduce it to their own kids. A movie gets a second life because people keep choosing it, and a cult classic is in the making.
And Hocus Pocus is incredibly easy to choose again. The Sanderson sisters are a huge part of that. Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Kathy Najimy understood exactly how ridiculous this movie was and committed completely to it. You can feel how much fun they’re having, and that energy carries the whole thing.
Then there are the lines. At some point, Hocus Pocus becomes more like a movie you participate in. You know what’s coming, you know what Billy is going to do, and you know Winifred is about to have a moment. And, of course, you know the lines.
“Boooooook!”
That’s part of the fun. You can watch it again even when you know every part of it because you’re familiar with the story and already know exactly where it’s headed.
Some Movies Just Become Part Of Your Life
I loved Hocus Pocus 2, too. Of course I did. They brought back the Sanderson sisters. What exactly was I supposed to do? Exercise restraint?
The sequel has its own place, and I can love both. The first one has something that took decades to build: history.
My history, specifically.
There were middle school sleepovers and random weeknights with my sorority sisters. There were years when I watched it simply because it was on television and years when I put it on because I wanted to. My parents met in Salem, so Salem was already part of my family story long before Hocus Pocus turned it into the home of three extremely committed witches.
And then there are my kids.
That’s the part I didn’t expect when I first watched the movie. I didn’t know I was going to grow up, have kids, and eventually sit down with them to see if they would love the same absurd movie I did.
One did. One absolutely could take it or leave it.
Both reactions became part of my Hocus Pocus memories.
That’s what happens with the movies we keep coming back to. They collect little pieces of our lives until the movie itself starts carrying those memories with it. You remember the movie, but you also remember who you were when you watched it.
That’s what I mean when I call Hocus Pocus perfect. The plot falls apart if you think about it too hard, the rules of the magic are questionable at best, and a teenage boy lights a cursed candle and the entire town has to deal with the consequences.
I’m okay with all of that.
A “perfect” movie, to me, gives me exactly what I want from it for a very long time. Hocus Pocus gave me years of October memories I didn’t know I was making at the time. And now I get to watch my kids make their own.
That’s why I still put it on.
It has become part of my life. Every time I watch it, I get a little piece of those other versions of my life back, and now there’s a whole new generation that gets to decide what Hocus Pocus means to them.
So yes, Hocus Pocus is still perfect.
I said what I said.
Now pass me the remote. The Sanderson sisters are waiting.