Screening December 4, 2026 at the NVMY
Witches, beatniks, bongos, a thoroughly besotted book publisher, and one unforgettable Siamese cat in 1950s Greenwich Village. Now that’s some mid-century holiday magic.
Christmas Eve in Greenwich Village, 1958. The jazz clubs are crowded, the beatniks are playing bongos, and a beautiful witch is contemplating putting a spell on the man upstairs. In Bell, Book and Candle, the supernatural residents of Manhattan blend so effortlessly into the neighborhood’s bohemian population that it’s sometimes difficult to tell them apart.
Starring Kim Novak and James Stewart—whose life is the subject of the new feature film Jimmy, and who is forever associated with the more traditional Christmas classic It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)—Bell, Book and Candle is the first selection in Napa Valley Museum’s annual Not Exactly Christmas Classics film series. And while its credentials as a Christmas movie might be debatable, its mid-century style is beyond dispute.
Novak plays Gillian Holroyd, a modern-day witch who owns a Greenwich Village gallery specializing in what was then called “primitive art,” its collection of masks and sculptures providing an appropriately mysterious backdrop for her supernatural activities. When publisher Shepard Henderson (Stewart) enters her life on Christmas Eve, Gillian decides to make him hers—with a little assistance from her Siamese cat, Pyewacket. There’s just one complication: witches who fall in love lose their magical powers.
But the real enchantment of Bell, Book and Candle may be its setting. Director Richard Quine and legendary cinematographer James Wong Howe conjure a Manhattan of smoky jazz clubs, avant-garde art, bohemian apartments, and fashionable eccentrics. This is Greenwich Village at the height of the beatnik era, when jazz was cool, conformity was suspect, and the neighborhood’s unconventional residents seemed capable of almost anything.
Nowhere is that atmosphere more intoxicating than at the Zodiac Club, the subterranean gathering place for Manhattan’s supernatural set. Glass vault lights embedded in the sidewalk mark the club’s location beneath the streets of Greenwich Village. Inside, French singer and mime artist Philippe Clay performs an astonishingly elastic routine to his song Le Noyé Assassiné. His long, lanky frame seems to bend, collapse, and occasionally defy gravity, but there’s no trick photography involved. The effect is a remarkable display of physical control that makes him look as though he has no bones at all.
And then there’s Jack Lemmon as Gillian’s mischievous brother Nicky, a bongo-playing warlock who seems perfectly at home among the beatniks. Lemmon nearly steals the picture, just a year before his celebrated turn opposite Marilyn Monroe and Tony Curtis in Some Like It Hot (1959). Ernie Kovacs, already beloved for his groundbreaking television comedy, plays Sidney Redlitch, an author determined to expose Manhattan’s secret witch community. One of television’s great innovators, Kovacs was known for his surreal humor and inventive use of the medium. His death in a car accident just four years after the film’s release, at only 42, makes his appearance here especially poignant. Elsa Lanchester and Hermione Gingold round out the film’s delightfully eccentric supporting cast.
Perhaps the film’s neatest trick is that its witches and warlocks are considerably more appealing than its mortals. Janice Rule plays Shepard’s thoroughly conventional fiancée, Merle, whose lack of supernatural powers does nothing to make her more sympathetic. In Bell, Book and Candle, being ordinary is hardly a virtue.
The film’s visual pleasures extend well beyond the nightclub. From Novak’s striking costumes to the art-filled interiors, Bell, Book and Candle is a showcase of mid-century design. Its art direction and costume design were both nominated for Academy Awards, and nearly seven decades later, the film remains a feast for anyone who appreciates the aesthetics of the era.
There’s also a fascinating Hollywood connection. Novak and Stewart had appeared together earlier that same year in Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo, one of cinema’s most celebrated psychological thrillers. Their reunion in this lighthearted supernatural romance couldn’t be more different. Novak, then one of Hollywood’s biggest box-office stars, gives a mesmerizing performance as Gillian, whose cool, aloof demeanor makes her all the more intriguing. She was also romantically involved with director Richard Quine, adding another layer of intrigue to the production.
Stewart, meanwhile, demonstrates his incomparable gift for physical comedy, particularly in the scene where he attempts to swallow a potion supposedly capable of breaking Gillian’s love spell. His increasingly desperate efforts to get the concoction down are among the film’s funniest moments.
And we would be remiss not to mention Pyewacket. Named for a familiar spirit—a supernatural companion traditionally associated with witches—the elegant Siamese cat is more than a supporting player. He’s Gillian’s magical accomplice, confidant, and arguably the film’s most memorable scene-stealer. The identity of the 9-10 feline actors who played the role have been debated for years, but movie legend has Novak adopting one of the lucky felines at the conclusion of filming.
So why is Bell, Book and Candle a Christmas movie? It begins on Christmas Eve, features holiday gatherings and gift exchanges, and unfolds against the backdrop of a Manhattan dressed for the season. But its real connection to the holiday may be the film’s central conceit: that even a witch who can have anything she wants will give up something precious to experience genuine love.
For all its supernatural mischief, Bell, Book and Candle delivers the happy ending expected of a romantic comedy. But there’s something a little melancholy about leaving its world behind. This is a New York of well-dressed authors and book publishers, neighborhood art galleries, subterranean jazz clubs, and extraordinary characters who might actually be witches. It’s a romanticized Manhattan that probably never existed quite as the filmmakers imagined it, and certainly doesn’t exist today.
By the time the credits roll, you may find yourself wishing a little magic could transport you back to spend just one more Christmas Eve in 1950's New York City.
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