Practical Magic 2 Review – ‘Disappointingly conventional’

Practical Magic 2 Review – ‘Disappointingly conventional’

When the Owens family curse strikes again, Kylie (Joey King) travels to England seeking a cure, with her mother Sally (Sandra Bullock) and aunt Gillian (Nicole Kidman) in hot pursuit.


Witch stories have always had a particular feminist power. Whether antagonists or protagonists, the best witches embody feminine rage and possibility, women refusing the limits imposed upon them. Perhaps that explains the glut of belated revivals of millennial witchy touchstones, from The Craft to Hocus Pocus. For many of us, these were the women who raised us. Unfortunately, resurrection is a tricky business. Practical Magic 2, while hardly an abject failure, joins the pile of witchy sequels perhaps better left burned at the stake.

Practical Magic 2

Twenty-five years on, the Owens family faces another crisis when Kylie (Joey King), daughter of Sally (Sandra Bullock), falls for dreamy Gideon (Xolo Maridueña), only for the family curse to put him in a coma. Kylie heads to England seeking a cure, pursued by sisters Sally and Gillian (Nicole Kidman), who seek help from sexy magic academic Ian Wright (Lee Pace) — sadly not that Ian Wright, which might have been cool.

More disappointing is how male-centred and heteronormative this return feels.

There are pleasures to be found here. The glittering jewel-toned aesthetic, Stevie Nicks-inspired costuming and commitment to aspirational fairy-tale architecture remain a joy, as does reuniting Sally, Gillian, Frances (Stockard Channing) and Jet (Dianne Wiest). Even saddled with woeful dialogue and plot machinations that literally could have been an email, these formidable actors remain enchanting presences, and their gentle teasing and bickering is where the film feels the most alive. King rises gamely to the occasion, while Maisie Williams is squandered, largely wandering about with an inauspicious ’90s-prom updo.

More disappointing is how male-centred and heteronormative this return feels. The original understood romantic love was only one ingredient in the potion; its real fantasy lay in sisters, aunts and daughters building a strange, unruly world together. Decades later, when women, witches and sequels can be anything, it’s dispiriting to find so little imagination in what their lives might become.

The Owens women remain bewitching company, but this belated sequel trades the original’s unruly feminist magic for something disappointingly conventional. The midnight margaritas are back. The magic, sadly, isn’t.

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