Lovers of the Sabrina the Teenage Witch comics—and the 90s Melissa Joan Hart TV version—know this story has a few constants that never change. Sabrina will always have a thing for human high-schooler Harvey Kinkle; she will always have a black cat named Salem; and, most crucially, she will always be guided through her adventures by her two aunts: Hilda and Zelda Spellman. In the original comics, Hilda and Zelda actually created Sabrina out of a magic potion gone wrong. But while the 90s sitcom transformed their roles from creators to caretakers, the two women have always been crucial to a story that sometimes sneakily (and other times not-so-sneakily) examines the fear surrounding female power.
In Netflixs newest iteration of the story, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina—based on the dark 2014 comic-book series of the same name—everything is taken to its logical extreme. Hilda and Zelda are no longer harmless and kooky: Zelda, as played by Australian actress Miranda Otto (whom genre fans still revere, thanks to her defiant turn as Lord of the Rings shieldmaiden Eowyn), has an old-school glamour, brimming with moxie and a taste for power thats exceeded only by her love for her niece. Playing opposite her as Hilda is Lucy Davis—a legend in her own right in the comedy world, known for the original U.K. version of The Office, Shaun of the Dead, and, most recently, stealing scenes away from Amazonian Gal Gadot as Etta Candy in Wonder Woman.
Daviss turn as Hilda is a welcome strain of sweetness and sneaky humor in a show that often dwells in pitch-black places. But she also paints a picture of a strong woman with the sort of power that doesnt need to announce itself to the world. Her Hilda is often quietly the smartest, most capable person in the room—and the series has fun showing the ways in which Sabrina has absorbed both Zelda and Hildas examples. To borrow a phrase from another witchy series, you cant have a coven without the power of three. On a break from filming Season 2, Davis spoke with Vanity Fair about putting her own distinct spin on the character, and why TV and film have suddenly found themselves in a season of witches.
Sabrina Spellman has gone through so many iterations since her creation in the early 1960s. Do you think every generation has its own version of Sabrina? If so, why this Sabrina for this era?
Gosh, Im not too sure. I think when the 90s one came out—which I really enjoyed, and I think that was lovely, and it was fun and funny. Nowadays I think we do move everything on a bit, and we like to add the dark and the horror. I just think Sabrina itself is a good story. I love superhero films or TV, and I love things to do with witches and magic. If you do it right and you make sure that its grounded in some sort of realism somewhere along the way, you can convince people that a man can fly or a girl can be a witch.
Beyond just witches and magic, this is a story about a young girl being raised by her two aunts. Your 2017 film, Wonder Woman, was similarly female-focused and well received. Do you think audiences have an easier time with female-fronted storytelling when its in the context of the supernatural or genre?
It does, and its not just horror and witches and superheroes—but even things like Downton Abbey or The Crown. Its still not our world, is it? Its still the world that we dont live in today. I wonder why people like that, just taking us away from today.
Perhaps because today can be very hard to face.
I think so. I do. I do.
There are so many great witch-related properties coming out right now, between Suspiria, the Charmed reboot, and this. What do you think is in the water that makes it a particularly witch-friendly time for stories?
It wasnt super-long ago when being a witch was taboo and got people killed. Nowadays we are shifting as a world. I like to see shifts that sometimes can take a generation to go through happening quite quickly now. Ill be watching something like an episode of Friends, and then I'll notice a little story that makes you go, “Gosh, that wasnt that long ago, and today you wouldnt be able to do that.” Fat Monica or thinking Chandler is gay.
So in terms of the witch thing—I know [series creator] Roberto [Aguirre-Sacasa] has said this somewhere, that one of our writers is a witch, I dont know if you know that. I wont say her name in case thats something that is not mine to say, but I know that he has said that. All of us on set were like, “Ooh, you are? What can we ask about it? What can we know about it?” It would fascinate and delight. You have places now that you can say who you are and not be worried—not just that someone doesnt believe you or agree with you, but that someone might hurt you for your beliefs.
Can you tell me a little about your look as Hilda, which seems in many ways lifted right from the comic-book pages?
Angus Strathie, who designed our wardrobe, also did Moulin Rouge!, and you can probably see where these two are alike—so rich and colorful. On set, people often say, “Hildas wardrobe is my favorite because its so brilliantly mismatched and quite chaotic.” And I said with my hair, “Just lets not spray it down loads. Let it move, so that with Hildas movements and jolliness, the hair moves with it.”
You certainly get to carry a lot of the lightness and humor on this show. What challenges were there with pairing that tone with the darkness elsewhere in the series?
My favorite genre of acting to do is to find comedy in drama. So sometimes I may be accused of trying to find humor where there was none, and sometimes I might have to be reined in: “No, Lucy, this is not the time to do a pratfall. Someone just died.” In my life, I could probably be accused of using humor as a defense mechanism. Its something that I do. When something really awful has happened, lets not sit in the space of being incredibly low, because I think its going to take longer to heal. So thats what I find in Hilda.
__You mention Hildas jolliness. I think its fascinating to see that kind of character—so motherly and kind and funny—given so much actual power in a story. I like how she stands in contrast to Zeldas more stereotypical brand of witchy power. __
I like it because I dont think you have to be the stereotype of Cruella de Vil to have power. You can be nice. You can be kind. You can be good. You just arent pissed about by people. You have your boundaries. Hilda gets her own way more than we probably think. Sometimes we all see examples of the squeaky wheel that gets the grease—but for a few years now, Ive really understood what it means to be the person that you want to see.
Get Vanity Fairs HWD NewsletterSign up for essential industry and award news from Hollywood.Joanna RobinsonJoanna Robinson is a Hollywood writer covering TV and film for VanityFair.com.
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