Editorials
Quaint & Badass: A List of the Bestest Witches
Witches – gotta love ‘em! Throughout our time on this plane of existence, they’ve remained the embodiment of female power and sexuality. Their spiritual ties to nature, and the darkness looming within or without have long attracted the gaze of fearful men and intrigued parties. Their stories are in the annals of history and comics alike. Burgeoning witches conjure spells in charming coming-of-age tales, while myths of elusive enchantresses capture the hearts and minds of men and their empires. And lest you not forget the old crones who lure naive souls into their woodland abodes. These witchy archetypes and their offspring have provided countless stories for us to admire and admonish, and our thorny horror-loving hearts hold a special place for many of them. As spooky season has officially commenced, let us take some time to celebrate the women of the hour. From quirky to unholy, these are some of the most beloved and feared – the bestest – witches in film and television.
In the spirit of whimsical listicles, I’ve attempted to arrange our witchy wonders from the quaintest of all to the biggest badass. You might have opinions, but play nice, or it’s in the cauldron for you!
Quaint & Lovely:
Kiki (Kiki’s Delivery Service): Before Uber Eats, there was Kiki. In Hayao Miyazaki’s 1989 classic, teen witch Kiki moves to a bustling port city with Jiji, her cat familiar, to grow as a young woman. She shablams her way down hundreds of feet in the air and eventually stumbles into a job at a bakery. It’s here that she’s inspired to use her magical talents to develop a business of her own. What could be quainter than a lil’ witch delivering goods around town on a flying broom? Typical of many youths, self-doubt overshadows her self-worth, and so her magical abilities and delivery business are temporarily stunted. Yet, as most stories of blossoming adolescence go, a harrowing incident leads her to rediscover her powers and yes, dear reader, herself.
Sakura Kinomoto (Cardcaptor Sakura): The Mega-Man of witches, young Sakura stars in the anime series based on the popular manga in which she accidentally unleashes a set of mystical cards and discovers magical abilities of her own. Each card grants its wielder a different power, and Sakura is tasked with reclaiming them before less wholesome individuals do. With themes of inner strength and legacy, the story unfolds much like the JRPGs of yesteryear. In a word, unique!
Mary Poppins: The Crown Mother of Quaint, some might question whether Mary Poppins is a witch. To which I say, look at the evidence. Her flying broom? An umbrella. Manipulation of space and time? Check! And like mimosas at brunch, her enchanted bag is bottomless. Miss Mary Poppins flies in from some unknown dimension of etiquette and laughs, and she changes lives. Her approach to child rearing is stern yet welcoming, and her infectious whimsy unwinds even the most uptight of adults. She’s the white witch of London’s middle class.
Willow Rosenberg (Buffy the Vampire Slayer): Somewhat of a live-action Kiki, Willow is the resident witch of Slayer Buffy’s Scooby Gang. A meek soul expertly portrayed with nervous curiosity by Alyson Hannigan before she met your mother, Willow represents the quiet kids and outcasts looking for a tribe. Throughout the series, she came out of the closet both as a powerful witch and a queer woman during the decidedly less socially progressive time of the late 90s. Despite a speedbump as the Big Bad of Season 6, Willow Rosenberg is a beacon of light for misfits looking to find their way.
Sally & Gillian Owens (Practical Magic): Sally (Sandra Bullock) and Gillian (Nicole Kidman) serve up midnight margaritas and murder in this 1998 mood. Bullock’s dorky charm and Kidman’s electric sexuality are lightning in a bottle as the unlucky in love and polar opposite Owens sisters. Descendants of a long line of witches, the duo must contend with the repercussions of a 300-year-old family curse in which any man they love meets a tragic end. Gilly’s longing for this forbidden love leads her down a dark and wild path, which ends in the accidental murder of her abusive boyfriend via belladonna poisoning. Their story highlights critical themes of female persecution and resiliency, and nothing screams feminism more than sending your resurrected ex back to hell with your newfound coven.
Light & Dark:
Sabrina Spellman: Perhaps the most famous teenage witch, Sabrina’s two very different TV iterations toe the line between heaven and hell, and appropriately place her right in the middle of this list. As the star of the family-friendly Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Melissa Joan Hart inspired the resourcefulness in kids everywhere as she navigated classic sitcom hijinks with a magical twist. However, Netflix had other, less quaint, plans for Sabrina, and in 2018 adapted Archie Comic’s take on the character with The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. They flipped the script, and this devilish take on our headstrong heroine examined dogma and morality’s grey areas along with your typical teenage woes. These witches worship at the altar of the Dark Lord himself, for Satan’s sake. Less fluffy, more Buffy!
Endora (Bewitched): A monster-in-law to some, and mother monster to others, Agnes Moorhead commanded the soundstage as Endora in the 1960s sitcom Bewitched. Quintessentially elegant and eccentric, she only wanted what was best for her daughter Samantha (the fabulous Elizabeth Montgomery), which certainly did not include Sam’s marriage to the forever befuddled mortal, Darrin. Her timing as a troll was impeccable, tormenting her son-in-law at the most inconvenient moments and always getting the last laugh. A mother’s love knows no bounds, and for Endora, neither does her trickery.
Lafayette Reynolds (True Blood): The lone male on this list, Lafayette is the ultimate icon of HBO’s southern vampire drama. He’s a gay, vampire-blood-dealing short order cook revealed to be a powerful medium with innate magical abilities during Season 4, which is a lot to unpack. It was refreshing to watch the late, great Nelsan Ellis peel back the layers of a gay character like Lafayette and embody him with such ferocious humanity. His performance kept Lafayette off the chopping block through all seven seasons despite meeting an early end in the novels the show adapts. And anyway, who else on this list can make calling someone a hooker endearing?
The Coven (AHS: Coven): “Who’s the baddest witch in town?” This brazen line, uttered by reigning Supreme Fiona Goode (Jessica Lange) as she admires herself in the mirror, says it all. American Horror Story’s third season thrust us into the witchy underworld of present-day New Orleans and includes far too many outstanding characters and performances to single out just one or two. Within the walls of Miss Robichaux’s Academy, we have the previously mentioned Fiona Goode, a (literally) soulless and power-hungry baddie, her ruthless understudy Madison Montgomery (Emma Roberts), human voodoo doll Queenie (Gabourey Sidibe), theremin virtuoso Myrtle Snow (Frances Conroy), and even Stevie Nicks herself. Coven has a little something for everyone, and watching these women battle it out for Supremacy is wicked fun. The ladies also starred in the only AHS sequel season, so you know they’ve earned a spot among the greats.
Vanessa Ives (Penny Dreadful): She’s the antihero of the hauntingly beautiful Showtime series Penny Dreadfulwho spins a web of both good and evil. A witch – and possibly something more – of this mortal coil who never fully understands her powers or herself, Miss Ives is plagued with deep guilt and sorrow for simply existing. This force within Vanessa makes her a magnet for the evils of Dracula and Lucifer, and, ironically, it’s through them that she finally knows her true self and sees God. It is a profoundly tragic character arc, and while hopefully most of us can’t relate to having Dracula and Lucifer vie for our soul, we all wrestle with our versions of the darkness within.
The Badasses:
Rita Repulsa (Mighty Morphin Power Rangers): She may be more of a joke than a terrifying force of evil, but Rita Repulsa is the most entertaining space witch you’ll ever meet. She emerges in full glam from a space dumpster after 10,000 years locked away and is ready for her closeup as the OG antagonist of the Power Rangers series. She’s got a killer fit complete with a Madonna-inspired cone bra, a sickening scepter that can transform her minions into threats of kaiju proportions, and bagged the ultimate space zaddy, Lord Zedd. All that’s missing is sponsorship from Advil, given her frequent headaches. Rita’s attempts at ruling Earth may fail time and time again, but it’s the thought that counts.
Winifred Sanderson (Hocus Pocus): Mirror mirror on the wall, who has the shadiest lips of all? Bette Midler’s performance as a resurrected centuries-old witch is a spooky season favorite– even if the movie received an untimely release date of July. It may be family-friendly Disney fare, but Winifred is a sadistic individual who tortures her victims and is hellbent on stealing children’s souls to reclaim her forgotten youth. She’s vain and petty with lips that would put Kim Kardashian to shame, and come to think of it; she also tyrannizes her siblings. Perhaps after Hocus Pocus 2, she’ll land a series on E!
Ursula (The Little Mermaid): Sea witch. Drag queen. Bombshell. The tentacled and scheming Ursula is a woman of many talents and cares not for the poor unfortunate souls who fall under her spell. She wafts through the trenches of the deep plotting to usurp Atlantica’s throne and tricks naive princess Ariel into relinquishing her voice in more ways than one. Ursula defines gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss: She’ll steal your voice, man, and kingdom. A special thank you to Ursula’s voice actor, the talented Pat Carroll, who just recently passed away on July 30th, 2022.
Marie Laveau (AHS: Coven): While the witches of Coven were considered one unit due to the sheer number of their ranks, voodoo queen Marie Laveau is in a league of her own. Angela Bassett brings natural charisma and attitude to the oft-fictionalized historical figure, and typing Laveau’s name into your keyboard will provide a treasure trove of reaction gifs for when you’re feeling some sort of way. Watching her butt heads with Supreme witch Fiona Goode is the stuff of legend, and a sequence in which the pair effortlessly take down an organization of witch hunters is classic AHS. Dedication to her community sets her apart from the devilish Fiona. Still, nefarious conditions in the fine print of her immortality pact with the underworld suggest Marie may have more in common with her rival than she’d care to admit.
Nancy Downs (The Craft): Fairuza Balk shines as the antagonist and star (sorry, Robin Tunney) of the 1996 witch drama The Craft. Nancy is hard to hate and easy to understand. In an iconic beachside sequence, she and her fellow Wiccans perform the ritual of Invoking the Spirit to reclaim their power after being ostracized and taken advantage of throughout their lives. Caving to temptation, she monopolizes the dark magics imbued upon them, and a black sheep becomes a true nightmare. Nancy gets messy as hell in a prime example of the adage “be careful what you wish for” – and that’s why we love her. With an iconic goth-chic lewk, a striking face, and a maniacal laugh, Nancy Downs has it out for all the men and women who stand in her way. Especially the men. Seriously, she offs her abusive stepdad and flings Skeet Ulrich out a second-story window.
Lilith (The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina): The oldest historical figure on this list; Lilith is Adam’s first wife and was expelled from paradise after refusing to live in subordination with him. She’s the original feminist, described by men since ancient times as a demon, succubus, witch…you name it, she’s been called it. Why so scared, boys? Michelle Gomez’s portrayal of Lillith, named Madame Satan on The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, is a delightfully twisted and comedic take on the mythological persona. As Lucifer’s second in command, she possesses Sabrina’s mousy teacher, Ms. Wardwell, to keep tabs on the prophesized young witch. Unaware of these circumstances, Sabrina sees her shy teacher suddenly transformed into a confident vixen, and the sexual innuendos she casually spouts will leave you laughing through tears. She’s evil, for sure, but in the end, this version of Lilith wants to dismantle Hell’s patriarchy and reign as its new queen.
The Incomparable Tilda Swinton: She is an ethereal presence, an androgynous figure who glides across the silver screen. She’s a changeling able to take on any form, be it the Angel Gabriel, Jadis the White Witch of Narnia, or an old man attempting to dismantle a coven masked as a school of dance. Tilda Swinton is probably not a witch and simply a talented actor, but that won’t stop her from topping this list as the most badass conjurer here. Her most vile role is that of Mother Helena Markos in Luca Guadagnino’s 2018 reimagining of Dario Argento’s Giallo classic, Suspiria. Markos is the self-proclaimed Mater Suspiriorum, an ancient witch and head of her coven who possesses the bodies of young women so that she may remain ageless. Depicted as a truly haggard old crone with the limbs of fetuses protruding from her own, she conspires underneath the film’s dance academy while waiting to strike at her next victim. You’d sooner vomit at the sight of her before you could let out a scream, and that’s a testament to Swinton’s power over the craft. We’re fortunate to experience the artistry of Tilda Swinton, and it’s always a pleasure to see what form she’ll take next.
That wraps up our homage to the wonderful witches of film and television. We’ve run the gamut from the quaintest Kiki to the transcendent Tilda and everyone in between. While often there for our entertainment, these magical beings represent more than a pointy hat. They remind us to break free from the shackles of society and find that inner power on our terms. So call the corners and march to the beat of your own cauldron because immortality eludes us all.
I learned early on that I was not supposed to make it to the end of a horror movie. As a kid, I was drawn to slashers before I fully understood them. The VHS covers promised danger, chaos, and a kind of freedom that felt transgressive. Horror was loud, bloody, and thrilling in ways other genres were not. But the longer I watched, the clearer the rules became. The girl who survives is careful. She is observant. She is often white. She is someone the camera stays with, someone whose fear is treated as meaningful, even noble. Everyone else exists to prove the stakes. Black characters, especially Black girls, rarely make it past the first half of the movie.
The Final Girl as a Moral Framework
The final girl is not just a character archetype, she is a moral system. In classic slashers, survival is tied to innocence, restraint, and respectability. The final girl is allowed to be scared, but not unruly. She can scream, but only when it is justified. She can fight back, but only at the climax, after enduring enough suffering to earn it. Her survival reassures the audience that order can be restored. Those values were never built with Blackness in mind.
When Black characters appear in these films, they are rarely framed as people the story wants to protect. We are friends, sidekicks, background figures, or early warnings. Our deaths are fast and functional. Sometimes they are shocking. Sometimes they are played for humor. Rarely are they treated as losses the film wants us to mourn. The camera does not linger. The narrative does not slow down to grieve.
Watching Yourself Disappear as a Black Horror Fan
As a Black horror fan, I learned to accept this without ever being asked to. Loving the genre meant learning how to watch myself disappear. Horror trained me to identify with survivors who did not look like me, whose fear was treated as universal, while Black pain was treated as inevitable. Even knowing it was fiction, the pattern settled in. Who gets to live tells you who is expected to matter. This is why the final girl feels fundamentally different when she is Black.
When Black filmmakers and writers began reshaping the genre, the shift was not cosmetic. Films like Candyman, Get Out, and later Black-led horror did not simply place Black characters into existing formulas. They questioned the formulas themselves. The threat was no longer just a masked killer or a supernatural force. It was history, memory, and systems that follow Black characters no matter where they go. In these stories, survival is not about purity. It is about awareness.
Survival Through Awareness, Not Obedience
Black final girls do not survive because they obey the rules. They survive because they recognize the trap. Their fear is layered with cultural knowledge and lived experience. When danger appears, it is rarely surprising. It is familiar. The horror comes from seeing it made literal.
When a Black woman runs in a horror movie now, she is not just running from a monster. She is running from everything that has told her she should not be there, that she is disposable, that her fear does not deserve space. Her survival feels radical because it contradicts the genre’s long history of erasure.
Complexity, Joy, and Humanity in Black Horror
What makes this evolution powerful is that Black horror does not limit itself to suffering. Even when it confronts violence and trauma, it also makes room for humor, desire, anger, and joy. Black characters are allowed to be complex without being punished for it. They can be loud, flawed, scared, and still deserving of survival.
For me, the first time I saw a Black character positioned as someone the story wanted to protect, it was disorienting. I did not realize how much I had internalized until that moment. I was used to bracing myself for disappointment, for the early exit, for the confirmation that this ending was not meant for me. Seeing a Black woman make it to the final frame did not just change how I watched horror, it changed how I understood its power.
Survival as Defiance in Black Horror Cinema
Horror has always been about fear, but fear is shaped by context. For communities that already live with heightened vulnerability, survival fantasies carry a different weight. Black horror understands this. It treats survival not as a reward, but as an act of defiance.
When Black creators take control of the genre, they do more than add representation. They reframe what horror is allowed to care about. The final girl no longer exists to reassure the audience. She exists to endure, to remember, and to refuse erasure.
Loving Horror While Watching It Change
I still love classic slashers. I still enjoy their excess and chaos. But I watch differently now. I notice who the camera follows, whose pain is given time, whose death is treated as unavoidable. Horror did not always love us back, but Black creators are teaching it how.
The final girl was never me, until she was. And the genre is stronger for it.
There is a huge difference between a movie being remembered for being good and a movie being remembered because it’s controversial. As a writer, I can forgive an okay film with an amazing script. However, I find it frustrating when it feels like no one believed in the project, so just leaned into the controversy. Stunts were pulled, shock value was sought after, and I am now wondering when the creatives stopped believing in their project.
Animal Cruelty as Shock Value in Horror Cinema
Cannibal Holocaust, a pivotal step toward found footage horror films as we know them today, is remembered for all of the scenes of sexual assault and the murder of actual animals. This takes away from its historical significance because the first thing I remember about it is watching a turtle get murdered and ripped apart. I have a similar issue with Wake in Fright. It’s hard to remember Donald Pleasence, Gary Bond, or the queer implications of this thriller because the filmmaker had kangaroos executed for this film. The scene feels like it goes on forever, and I’m yet to understand why murdering animals needed to be part of the process.
I finally watched Megan is Missing a couple of years ago, and the exploitative nature of the assault of a fourteen-year-old is what stays with me. Whatever Michael Goi’s intentions were, they were lost because the shock factor of that moment outweighs everything else.
When Shock Value Replaces Meaningful Horror
It feels gross and like yet another male filmmaker mishandling assault on camera. Meanwhile, the film was serving its purpose and had other truly disturbing imagery that would have gotten a reaction out of audiences. It also would have allowed for more discussion about the film as a whole, instead of that scene that becomes the conversation. It’s another instance of male filmmakers mishandling the weight of sexual assault on film.
Things Aren’t Getting Better
However, the movies mentioned above are from different eras. We’d like to think filmmakers by now understand that shock factor doesn’t equal a quality movie. We would be wrong to assume that, though, because Dashcam (2021) didn’t stop at basing a character on an awful person. They actually cast the Trump-loving, anti-vax, and very vocal bigot Annie Hardy to play the character. This led to horror fans familiar with her brand of ignorance being turned off before the movie was even released. It also undid a lot of the goodwill that director Rob Savage earned with his previous movie, Host. To make matters worse, Savage repeatedly defended the choice all over the internet. At one point, he tried to blame her behavior on mental health, and people pointed out that doesn’t excuse racism, antisemitism, and homophobia.
Some of Annie’s Infamous Tweets
This is an especially head-scratching situation in this case. The team was riding the steam of a very popular found footage film. They were also primed to make a video game called Ghosts that had a successful crowdfunding campaign. People would have shown up for this before casting for shock value became the priority. We have had multiple films similar to this that sidestepped using known monsters. What was the reason? The idea came about because of her show, but any actress could’ve pulled that off. It was irresponsible to attempt to give this woman an even bigger platform . It was also the ultimate sign that no one was serious about this project.
Have We Tried Trying?
While making chaotic choices is one way to be memorable, is it worth it? In theory, someone(s) spent a lot of time and energy writing these stories. Wouldn’t actual storytellers prefer people to compliment their work instead? Celebrating their imagination, uniqueness, and skill instead of yelling about controversy and shock value. This isn’t a censorship thing. I’m used to being unimpressed with movies and asking, “What was the reason?” As a writer, I also know that there are ways to elicit responses from people without traumatizing them. We are literally tasked with putting characters and situations on the page that make people think and feel. Which is why going through the process of getting an idea greenlit and then leaning into something ghoulish like animal cruelty is baffling. Instead of casting a known Twitter bigot, you could just write a character based on assholes of that ilk.
Whenever I see films coming out that seem more interested in courting controversy than trying to find their audiences, I pause. I cannot help but wonder who really decided this. Clearly, someone didn’t believe in the script and felt that upsetting people for the wrong reasons was the move. That outdated idea that any press is good press snuffed out whatever spark initially got people on board for the film. It is sad that someone(s) didn’t believe in the power of the written word. They doubted the effectiveness of storytelling and decided to go big in the wrong ways. Instead of stepping it up in the script department and figuring out if the proposed stunt is a band-aid for something missing on the page, they decided to go nuclear. They shocked us in the worst of ways, and now we are stuck on impact rather than intention.
How Did We Get Here?
I’m not trying to sound like a boomer, but the rise of social media has made this worse over the years. Studios seemingly want controversial content rather than actual art. The pursuit of going viral has replaced the idea of trying to actually do or say something. It’s all about adding AI to movies to spark outrage and make it trend. The worst people you know are getting cast in movies, so they can cry witch hunt when accountability enters the chat. Shocking the people for the wrong reasons seems to sadly be at main goal too often.
How did we get here? I’m seriously asking. I mean, we know capitalism and people who don’t value art buying studios are a huge part of it. However, I feel like there is a missing piece of this puzzle. Maybe it’s just collective brain rot, and I want it to be more than that because I know the power of a good script. Hell, I know the power of a mid script in the hands of the right person. I want to believe in writers even if their vision is in the shadows of a circus.
Is The Shock Value Worth It?
What do I know, though? I’m just a girl, sitting in front of a computer, asking the industry to believe in writers again. Back scripts that actually say something instead of figuring out how get them canceled. Make movies that spark conversation for legitimate reasons instead of incredibly head-scratching decisions that pull focus. Some of us deserve smart movies that challenge us for the right reasons. That’s why we flock to the original ideas, live for international films, and look to indie filmmakers. We crave disrupters who manage to break the cycle of crap we constantly get spoon-fed.
That’s what inspires me to keep beating my head against the wall. It’s what gives me hope that I’ll get to make things one day. Maybe I’m naive, but I want to at least try because I love writing. I don’t want to just cast a real bigot and call it a day. Not when I can write characters based on bigots and hopefully prompt actual conversation. I want my people discussing my dialogue and metaphors, instead of animal cruelty that makes people sick. In a perfect world the system would allow more room for that. We deserve scripts that can stand on their own without shock value leading TikTok to talk.
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