It's 2025 And I Just Watched 1993's Hocus Pocus For The First Time – These Are My Honest Thoughts

I'm not immune to the pull of cult classics revolving around witchcraft, especially ones that are gift-wrapped in nostalgia. That might explain my fascination with films like "The Craft," which takes a slick, pulpy approach to the supernatural (while celebrating teenage non-conformity) or "Valerie and Her Week of Wonders," where gothic horror and fantasy blend to evoke a coming-of-age fever dream. Even so, Kenny Ortega's "Hocus Pocus" had never piqued my interest before, despite its curious box-office-bomb-to-beloved-Halloween-classic arc, wherein the 1993 fantasy comedy emerged as a formative childhood experience for many.

This might've something to do with the fact that I never watched "Hocus Pocus" as a child, meaning that I cannot indulge in the inherent nostalgia associated with this cozy cult classic. However, as a 31-year-old who has (finally) watched "Hocus Pocus" for the first time, I can surely understand the hypnotic appeal of a film that embraces campy humor and cheesy sentimentality with utmost sincerity. The true magic lies in the playfully spooky atmosphere that grips Salem, Massachusetts, where the Sanderson sisters — Winifred (Bette Midler), Mary (Kathy Najimy), and Sarah (Sarah Jessica Parker) — attempt to lure a child inside their lair to gain eternal youth. What ensues in this prologue is exaggerated slapstick and melodrama bordering on parody, setting the tone for the kind of adventure you'll be in for during the next 85-ish minutes.

Remember the child that the witches lured in? Well, her brother, Thackery Binx (Jason Marsden/Sean Murray), is turned into an immortal cat (!) once he tries to intervene, right before the sisters are hanged by the townsfolk for heresy. But the Sanderson sisters cackle and curse the town before dying, setting the stage for their resurrection on All Hallows' Eve in the future. 

Fast-forward to 300 years, snarky teen Max (Omri Katz) inadvertently brings the witches back, thanks to his skepticism regarding witchcraft and virgin status (which is apparently crucial for the resurrection ritual). His crush Allison (Vinessa Shaw) and sister Dani (Thora Birch) also get caught up in these shenanigans, but the ever-proactive Binx (who can talk, by the way!) whisks them away to hallowed ground. Everything that happens after this point is pure nonsense: the sisters adapt to modern technology in no time, the resurrected Billy Butcherson (Doug Jones) constantly loses his head, and a particularly fun rendition of "I Put a Spell on You" bewitches Salem's adults into complacency.

There are some baffling moments sprinkled all over, owing to a hyperspecific '90s movie humor that reveals fresh layers once you rewatch a childhood classic through adult eyes. Corny humor and dad puns aside, there's the dated CGI, which lends to some questionable moments involving the talking cat and the witches using their powers to zap teenage boys whenever they please. But there's genuine fun to be had with the premise once you accept the story for what it is — a cheesy, light-hearted adventure that occasionally ventures into spooky territory and goes ham with it. This deliberate excess is embedded in the film's DNA, from Midler's intensely exaggerated performance to the over-the-top theatrics where bullies are put inside suspended cages and spun around for fun.

Moreover, every Sanderson witch enlivens the story: Winifred is the connecting tissue here, helping balance Mary's humorous bumbling with Sarah's free-spirited sensuality. This odd combination works even when it shouldn't, and together, the sisters plot, cackle, and stumble around Salem like they're a part of its rich history. And indeed, they are.

The term "family-friendly" is closely associated with "Hocus Pocus," owing to its Disney roots and annual airings throughout October (to the point that October is often dubbed "Hocus Pocus" season). There's also the All Hallows' Eve element that ties neatly into the film's premise, adding a warm layer of nostalgia to the act of trick-or-treating in a small, sleepy town that lets our collective imaginations run amok.

But "Hocus Pocus" is also a film about family, especially the relationship between siblings Max and Dani, which evolves a lot by the end of this tale. Max starts off as an angsty, impulsive kid who unwittingly puts his little sister in danger, but spends the rest of the movie gathering courage to keep her safe, even at the cost of his own life. There is no profound complexity to this arc, but it is heartfelt enough to make me care about the duo, with Allison/Binx in tow.

I was also thoroughly delighted by Birch's Dani, a sassy, outspoken eight-year-old embroiled in an absurdly scary scenario. Surprisingly, Dani emerges as the voice of reason and even makes fun of her brother in front of his crush just because she can. She's also most attached to Binx, whose journey mirrors Max's, as he is also a brother burdened by the guilt of failing his sister. Watching Binx bound around and sink his little teeth into necks is a riot, but seeing him purr and curl up against a sleeping Dani is a perfect demonstration of his concealed vulnerability.

"Hocus Pocus" is silly, nonsensical, and far from perfect. But it is also pleasantly comforting, like a familiar haunt in a sleepy town.