Happy 35th Anniversary to ‘Teen Witch,’ a Film That Critics Dared to Call ‘Plebeian’
”It wasn't just this campy movie,” Robyn Lively told Jezebel of the 1989 cult classic. "It's helped people through really challenging times."
Photo: MGM EntertainmentMovies
In movies, witches can do any number of cool things. They’re capable of turning a teenage boy into a cat, and temporarily halting the aging process, like in Hocus Pocus. They’re able to murder an abuser and not only get away with it but break at least one generational curse, as exhibited by Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman in Practical Magic. Or, if they’re The Craft‘s Nancy Downs, they can walk on water before completely losing their shit. Only one of them, however, had the power to free her haplessly awkward, definitely white best friend from the shackles of shame in order to confront the class bully via a rap battle.
Thirty-five years ago, Dorian Walker made a film about Louise Miller, a tragic teenage girl plagued by the popular class and her crush on Brad “red hot lover” Powell, the quintessential high school quarterback. On her sixteenth birthday, however, everything changes when Louise learns that, not only is she the reincarnation of a Salem-era witch, but that she has powers of her own. Seemingly overnight, with the help of a local psychic, Louise becomes the most sought-after sorceress her small town has ever seen. But, as in most movies from this era, there’s a dime-store lesson to be learned. In the end, Louise realizes that real magic doesn’t come from any cauldron, it comes from within.
By and large, critics panned the film. “Whatever points Teen Witch gets for its upbeat message has to be penalized by the plebeian way it is handled on several fronts,” Variety wrote in 1989. It didn’t help that Teen Witch also bombed at the box office. Both could’ve damned the movie to the fate of any other cult classic—only remembered among its most devoted fans at annual conventions that trade in cosplay and nostalgia. Except, the small film with the smaller budget has since become a pop culture phenomenon due to steady showings on cable television, scores of famous fans (from Lively’s little sister, Blake, to drag queens like Peaches Christ who’ve held annual screenings), and most of all, its star, Robyn Lively, who’s spent the last three decades challenging its critics.
“It wasn’t just this campy movie,” Lively told Jezebel of Teen Witch.“It’s helped people through really challenging times.”
Nowadays, you might’ve seen Lively starring in National Anthem, a deeply felt portrait of queer rodeo life, on a red carpet by her little sister’s side, or in said little sister’s best friend’s box suite at a Chiefs game. But Lively’s also a regular at pop culture and comic conventions talking to fans about her most famous film—one that’s defined not just her career, but the lives of many others. Most recently, Lively made an appearance at FanX in Salt Lake City, Utah (where she sold replicas of Louise’s amulet that she designed herself), and at Spooky Empire in Orlando, Florida to reunite with her former onscreen love interest.
“I recently saw Dan Gaultier and we were so excited just to see each other again, ” Lively said. “Did you see my Instagram?” He looks exactly the same!” Give or take a few grays, I agree.
I was born five years after Teen Witch was released, meaning it was introduced to me some ten years later by my older sister. Like Lively and her most famous sister, there’s a significant, 15-year age gap between us. Even still, watching Teen Witch together has become something of a ritual over the years—during spooky season or not. Apparently, we have that in common.
