‘The Craft’ At 20: Celebrating One Of The Most Compulsively Rewatchable Films Of The ‘90s

Among the many cinematic gifts of 1996 worth the anniversary revisit, the not-so-guiltiest of pleasures is Andrew Fleming’s The Craft. Revolving around a foursome of high school girls dabbling in witchcraft, the film was a modestly successful hit for the MTV set that’s still enjoyable for its unpretentious approach to spooky entertainment. Perfectly blending smart thrills and laid back cool, The Craft feels like the final moment of straightforward sincerity in teen thrillers of the era, before the emergence of Kevin Williamson’s brand of irony or the winks of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Filmed during the dying breaths of grunge but before the rise of Spice Girls girl power, it is mostly unburdened by cultural markers that would make the film look dated. Maybe the film was an inciting event for the rise of Hot Topic goths to come, but the film is too perky to be lumped solely to that dour crowd.

Of course, The Craft is a ton of fun. Dark humor occasionally cuts the gloominess, and it’s slyly quotable (“I bind you from doing harm, Nancy…”). This coven moves with confidence and a power that’s sexy without ever stooping into lascivious territory. Their collective energy is a palpably connected unit, a believable group of friends that jokes and cares for one another like something you might see in a John Hughes movie. In fact, Hughes’s work is a better companion here than fellow horror flicks, both in tone and rewatchability – The Craft is sort like The Breakfast Club if the characters focused on spells instead of escaping the library. Like Hughes’s ensembles, the chemistry between the four lead actresses is immediately appealing, each starkly different but not broadly drawn into the archetypes Hughes often used. Fairuza Balk as Nancy may seem like typecasting in hindsight, but she gives Nancy’s brooding exterior a sharp wit and an almost sexual connection to the witchy practice. Robin Tunney follows as the naive, haunted foil who is lonely enough you believe why she would be drawn to these outcasts. Rachel True is the coolest of the group, her smart humor always cutting the tension. Neve Campbell is the most transformed throughout the film, shedding her shyness along with her scars. They bounce off of each other naturally as a believable gang you wish you were cool enough to join.

Maybe had it been released today we would have been clamoring for a sequel just to get the gals back together.

And there’s the actual magic. The film indulges in the audience’s fascination of the occult – both in harmless mischief and our deep, darker desires to change our circumstances. It may have no resemblance to actual Wicca, but the witchcraft on display is the wishful thinking kind of powers we all have fantasized about: levitation, control over objects, the ability to change physical appearances, even the thirst for revenge.

Intriguing and delicious by today’s standards, the film’s key villains are a misogynist and a racist. Part of what makes us root for these young women is that they are using their powers against nasty high school evil-doers: a cruel, objectifying Lothario (Skeet Ulrich in peak Johnny Depp lookalike form) and a vapid Barbie doll insidious enough to refashion racial slurs as cutesy disses (Christine Taylor). It’s not an evil demon or supreme baddie that is the enemy here, it’s the very real presence of systems that sexually degrade women and minorities everyday around us. Even as Nancy becomes the film’s primary antagonist, the audience sees that what fuels her drive for power is the desire to rise above her poverty. It’s when Nancy gets in too deep that the dark side takes over.

But you don’t come to The Craft without craving a little darkness.

Perhaps it was more welcomed by its audience twenty years ago than it would be today, especially for its delight in darkness. Take its MTV Movie Award win for Best Fight, for example. Robin Tunney and Fairuza Balk beat out the silliness of Jim Carrey in The Cable Guy and porny badassery of Pamela Anderson in Barb Wire for a fight that takes up a tiny amount of screentime. Can you imagine a similar win today for a scene without any smart quips, scuzzy navel gazing, or franchised heroes?

It’s even charming that Balk was so sincere in her appreciation of the award and the film when accepting her golden popcorn.

Months later, Scream (which also starred Campbell and Ulrich) would change the game by inviting the audience into the film with its meta genre mashup, and by now our teen female heroes are homogenized love-torn badasses. By comparison, The Craft stays more charming for its uncynical approach to concept and character. There’s no reaching for twisty plot devices or bland attempt at mass appeal – just simple, uncomplicated fun.

[Watch The Craft on Amazon Prime Video]

Chris Feil is a freelance writer surviving on 90s nostalgia and donuts. He also contributes to The Film Experience and lives in Columbus, OH. Follow Chris on Twitter: @chrisvfeil