Written by Steven Allison
Many of us lived for the mid-90s series Sabrina the Teenage Witch, if alone for the sardonicism of Salem, the loopy protagonist’s magical cat. A former witch cursed with feline form as comeuppance for a grand scheme to take over the world, Salem’s sarcastic one-liners punctuated the show’s charming mawkishness to perfection.
Excited for a reimagining of Salem and the show’s entire premise, the announcement of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina aroused a nostalgic anticipation in many a millennial. But Netflix has really done a number on fans. How so? Well, Salem – wait for it – doesn’t talk in the new series (Sabrina from this point onward). Jaws drop. Disenchantment ensues. Sadly, a Salem sans voice isn’t the only aspect of this creation by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa (Riverdale) that lacks true magic. It does, however, manage to spellbind in other ways.
The story opens in dreary Greendale, a town with a tragic history of witch hunting. There, half-witch, half-mortal Sabrina Spellman (Mad Men’s Kiernan Shipka) lives in a weird and wonky mansion-funeral parlour with her sweet and scatty Aunt Hilda (Lucy Davis of The Office fame), her firm and fanatical Aunt Zelda (Miranda Otto from Lord of The Rings), and her handsome Cousin Ambrose (Chance Perdomo), a warlock under house arrest for past wrongdoings.
Days away from her 16th birthday and the Dark Baptism that commemorates it, Sabrina struggles as she comes to terms with her dual identity, torn between her duty to serve the Dark Lord and a simpler life with her boyfriend Harvey (Ross Lynch) and friends Jaz (Rosalind Walker) and Susie (Lachlan Watson). She faces the agonising prospect of relinquishing her life as a regular schoolgirl to sign the Book of the Beast, after which she’ll set off – no, not on a broomstick – to study at the Academy of Unseen Arts.
A massive departure from the funny, two-decade-old witch’s coming-of-age tale that we know and love, Sabrina promises a more sinister tone and aesthetic. While the relationship between Harvey and “Brina” – as he calls her affectionately – is just as sickly-sweet as the old show, this drama-fantasy-horror is true to its word. It leads viewers down a dark path to Satan’s grim lair, but the problem is that it doesn’t really take them in. Rather, we’re only permitted to peek through a half-open door and down a blurry hallway towards a trashy, madcap take on witchcraft and devil-worship. I say “blurry” because the scenes that dip into otherworldliness are filmed out of focus. Although this allows for a sharp contrast between the earthly and supernatural realms of the show’s universe, it serves to disorientate.
Sabrina certainly throws the dark arts at us, but just not craftily enough to hit the magical mark. All the right characters are there to convey the show’s message – the solemn coven leader Father Blackwood (Richard Coyle); the dastardly, demon-controlled teacher Mary Wardwell (Michelle Gomez); the wicked, oh-so-ugly sleep demon Batibat (Megan Leitch), and Susie’s possessed Uncle Jesse (Jason Beaudoin) – but do they succeed in chilling our bones? Nope. It’s all just too naff for that.
That said, all roles – including those of the supporting actors – were executed capably. The cast made the best of what it had to work with, especially highly vexatious dialogue in parts. Special shout-outs go to Shipka (Sally Draper she most definitely is not), Davis (if she doesn’t amuse you, then you have no soul), and Gomez (her wide-eyed, seductive nuttiness is absolutely delicious).
Aside from some great performances, it’s the show’s human elements that really save it from being whacked on the head with a shovel and buried in the Spellman garden – a fate encountered by Aunt Hilda time and again at the hands of her intolerant sister. Even if Sabrina doesn’t combine mortal and supernatural ingredients as well as The Haunting of Hill House (a must-watch, by the way), it does tackle some very real and current issues of identity.
The global discourse on identity has never been more prevalent, and Susie’s negative experiences in the series reflect those faced by many non-binary people. By the same token, Sabrina’s difficulty in reconciling her double identity – made all the harder by the Academy’s resident mean girl witches, who give her stick about being a “half-breed” – is representative of the battle faced by mixed-race people every day.
Overall, Sabrina is worth a watch if you’re bored and looking for something a bit spooky to get into, but there are some better choices on Netflix and elsewhere.
