‘Hocus Pocus: A Musical Cocktail Experience’ Crowds Its Cauldron (Review)

I recently participated in Hocus Pocus: A Musical Cocktail Experience, along with the San Bernardino Home Owners’ Association. That is not a typo.

Loosely based on the 1993 Halloween classic film Hocus Pocus starring Bette Midler and Sarah Jessica Parker, Hocus Pocus: A Musical Cocktail Experience is a “90-minute, live-streamed magical musical mixology session taught by a trio of witches.” Tickets include a well-designed beverage kit (alcoholic or non-alcoholic) sent by mail to western U.S. states (California, Nevada, Washington, Oregon, New Mexico, Arizona, and Idaho).

Eager to learn “how to concoct potions, perform spells, and become a certified full-fledged witch or wizard… all to the tune of [our] favorite haunted hits,” more than 100 households joined the show. I noted my fellow participants in the chat feature; attendees included “Jasmin & Molly,” “Barry D. Hatchet,” “wickedbitchesofthewest,” and yes, the “San Bernardino Home Owners’ Association.”

For many Zoom meetings or virtual productions, the chat window is an innocuous repository for relevant links, topical questions, or technical support requests. For some shows, such as B.O.W.L.I.N.G. Night, the chat transforms into a competitive, trash-talking, digital Thunderdome. For Hocus Pocus: A Musical Cocktail Experience, the chat feature morphed into a type of participant-driven Freudian stew, with simultaneous expression by the id, ego, and superego. One group noted they were already drunk (wickedbitchesofthewest, naturally). Jinx, a cat puppet (played by Harrison Meloeny) and the show’s plush emcee, inspired a brief cats vs. dogs debate. One couple had a toddler-esque obsession with a coconut-based ingredient and at regular intervals asked, “What do we do with the coconut?” Pop culture references provided their own comedic relief. Participants flirted, chastised, rebuffed, and encouraged each other.

And then there were lots of questions about how to make the drinks. As the witches guided the audience through the process, the chat immediately clogged with pleas for clarification. Ultimately, there was a disconnect between concocting the drinks and the show’s entertainment; energetic momentum generated by the musical interludes dissipated during the clunky mixology lessons, which required too much time and too many steps. The cocktails themselves were interesting and flavorful, if too sweet for my palate.

With gorgeous voices, the talented cast of Hocus Pocus: A Musical Cocktail Experience burned through their musical numbers, which included 1980s hits by Duran Duran and Michael Jackson. Jinx the cat and the trifecta of witches (played by Janaya Mahealani Jones, Caitlin Ary, and Fatima El-Bashir) served up witty, improvised banter throughout. Cheeky references to the film Hocus Pocus abounded and the production quality displayed an attention to detail.

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Lack of talent is not the problem with Hocus Pocus: A Musical Cocktail Experience. But the show endeavors to do so much: quick cuts between multiple camera angles (I counted at least five), musical numbers frayed together by a tenuous narrative, and mixology instruction for three different drinks with their own vague narrative arc, plus interactive Tarot card readings with select attendees. The sum effect was more of a montage of production elements rather than a cohesive experience.

In addition, several participants commented at the top of the show that they hadn’t received their beverage kits. I was told my own kit ran into a shipping hiccup and as a result it was hand-delivered to me in Los Angeles. Many remote experiences are sending physical items to attendees and delivery mishaps will always be a part of that equation.

But what concerned me was a significant number of folx without their drinks kits didn’t seem to know if they should still participate and requested assistance in the chat at the top of the show. This indicates there was a breakdown in communication between consumers, After Hours Theatre Company (the show’s creators), and/or Fever, a “social concierge” app, which operates as a marketing and ticketing platform for a wide range of U.S. and international cities.

Ticketing apps and production teams need to aim for balance between inbox clutter and inadequate communication. As an experience touchpoint, instructions must be clear and timely, show details comprehensive — including content advisories, accessibility information, and COVID-19 safety precautions (if relevant) — and all ideally within a framework mirroring the show’s world. Platforms such as Fever may boost ticket sales with their reach and resources, but the burden falls to creators to ensure brand management (including data retention) and robust customer service.

Towards the end of this “Master Class on witchery,” the omniscient chat window reflected our shared experience: “the singing is the absolute best part of this”; “the only funny person is the cat”; and “would I be rude if I said I’m enjoying the chat more?” And finally, a few words of wisdom from — you guessed it — the San Bernardino Home Owners’ Association: “maybe the real witchcraft was the friends we made along the way.” Indeed.

Hocus Pocus: A Musical Cocktail Experience continues through November 7. Tickets are $69–79, including delivery to California, Nevada, Washington, Oregon, New Mexico, Arizona and Idaho.

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