Wicked at times, but 'The Craft' ultimately fails to cast a spell

By Laksmi Djohan-Pamuntjak

JAKARTA (JP): "Man invented God. This is older than that." says Bonnie (Neve Campbell) nonchalantly. When questioned by a disbelieving Sarah (Robin Tunney), a snarling Nancy (Fairuza Balk) interjects: "If God and the devil were playing football, Manon will be the stadium they play on. It'll be the sun shining down on them."

A line from Sidney Sheldon's The stars shine down? No. Bonnie and Nancy are a pair of Catholic high school misfits, who, together with their pal Rochelle (Rachel True), are explaining witchcraft to the new kid on the block, Sarah. It's kind of ironic, really, because as it turns out, it is Sarah who possesses the real power.

It doesn't take them long to figure it out, either. Victimized by the cruelness of their snobbish school establishment, they all have personal scores to settle. Nancy, the leader of the pack, is the "white trash slut", which isn't surprising since she has rings piercing every penetrable part of her body, wears black lipstick, raccoon eye makeup, and a lot of attitude.

Bonnie is the "introvert", a result of carrying horrendous burn scars from a childhood accident. Rochelle is the "token minority", a black surrounded by "bleached blond" bigots -- presumably the only one in the entire school? Well, it's the old school ties again, although it does seem rather far-fetched in this day and age.

But never you mind, they are rejects and they are seethingly bitter. So they don leather dog collars, walk like zombies, sneer constantly, and smoke incessantly. Worse, they get together, light candles, and chant incantations -- with little effect. You have to wonder why they don't fit in. They try too hard.

Enter Sarah. Still suffering the effects of her mother's death at childbirth, she decides to go to school even though she doesn't have her uniform yet. When Bonnie catches her levitating a pencil during her first day at class, she immediately becomes the targeted "fourth" to enter the witch coven. You may think witches come in threes, but no: you apparently need one for each of the four points of the compass. In any case, it is handier when there are four of you if you want to sit on the beach in the dead of the night invoking the spirits of the earth, wind, fire and air.

Actually, Sarah is the most unlikely candidate to be an outsider. Okay, she's new to the school, but she's attractive, intelligent, seemingly sociable, and exceedingly mature. You'd think that mixing a perceptive woman-child like her with the trio from hell would be like mixing water with fire. While maturity can easily be a source of isolation, it is infinitely preferable to joining the three. But, the film insists that, having been waylaid by the school's heartthrob, Chris (Skeet Ulrich), she too deserves retribution.

In no time, the trio becomes a quartet, and they get to dabble in ever weirder occult games. Drawing on the power of nature, Sarah wishes that Chris really liked her, Bonnie asks to be beautiful, and Rochelle wants to be able to love those who hate her for her color. Nancy, as befits her character, is more ambitious. In addition to wishing away her current trailer park lifestyle, she decides to absorb all the powers of Manon, the omnipotent deity figure. Sure enough, their spells take effect, with Chris becoming helplessly infatuated with Sarah, Bonnie's scar healing, and Rochelle causing the blonde locks on the school's resident racist to fall out in clumps.

Nancy, too, comes into a great deal of money with the sudden death of her abusive father. While director Andrew Fleming's hodgepodge of Carrie derivatives boasts some unexpectedly humorous bits, nothing beats the scene when Nancy's mother (Helen Shaver) tackily shows off her newly-acquired jukebox filled with Connie Francis records.

But power corrupts, and soon, people start getting killed. And, as usual, it's too late -- the girls have become drunk with power.

The standard moral is there, to be sure, the usual good vs evil story line with a supernatural twist. As expected, Sarah retains her inherent goodness, and becomes the voice of conscience. But this is a dangerous movie all the same, because it suggests that misfits of the world are entirely justified to take any means necessary, even devil worship, in order to even the score. Although in the last reel it does halfheartedly hint that bad girls come to a bad end, it still suggests that independence and rebellion, two often commendable traits, are related to revenge and redemption.

Not that we can expect exemplary references for the film to draw on, either. Make them boys in Hell's Kitchen, New York, and you have Sleepers. Make them all black, and you have A Time to Kill.

The second problem is that The Craft has the potential to develop along the lines of Heathers, the satirical black comedy in which the kids are so evil that you actually applaud their demise. But no. At first they are portrayed as feminist heroines and free thinkers, the next they fall back on cheesy teen fantasy. What are they exactly? Evil people or just victims of mistreatment? While Bonnie and Rochelle do come across as temporarily sidetracked but otherwise normal kids, there is nothing remotely sympathetic about Nancy. By the time the inevitable showdown comes between her and Sarah, you begin to wonder what the point is, since they could have done it at the beginning of the movie.

For the first hour, The Craft almost works as a wicked teen drama, with knowing humor about peer ridicule. But once the script ventures into the supernatural realm, it quickly falls into a round of limp shocks. The predictable Hollywood ending, where nothing makes sense, also destroys any possible message, leaving behind yet another unimpressive, formulaic piece.

In all fairness, though, the actresses acquit themselves surprisingly well. While Fairuza Balk seems forever doomed to play wacko roles (watch her latest screen appearance in The Island of Dr. Moreau), she is a standout -- the film's only true horror element. Robin Tunney, who bears a striking resemblance to Meryl Streep, only prettier, also gives a certain elegance to her character. There is a disquieting mindfulness about her, a wisdom that is simultaneously illuminating and disturbing.

The Craft is not likely to cast a spell on anyone, but it is watchable.