Sabrina the Teenage Witch: What Most People Get Wrong

Sabrina the Teenage Witch: What Most People Get Wrong

Honestly, if you grew up in the 90s, you probably think you know everything there is to know about Sabrina the Teenage Witch. You remember the velvet chokers, the neon-colored "Other Realm" sets, and that animatronic cat that definitely looked like a puppet but we all collectively agreed to ignore.

But here’s the thing. The version of Sabrina Spellman that lived in a Victorian house with a talking cat wasn’t the first, and it certainly wasn’t the last. Most people don’t realize she actually started as a one-off character in a 1962 comic book called Archie’s Mad House #22. She wasn't even supposed to be a star. The creators, George Gladir and Dan DeCarlo, thought she’d be a "one-shot" wonder. Fans had other plans. They obsessed over this girl who could turn her enemies into goats with a finger point.

The Dark Roots of Greendale

Before Melissa Joan Hart brought that bubbly, "oh-zap" energy to the screen, the comics were a bit... weirder. In the original 60s run, Sabrina wasn't born; she was literally brewed in a magic potion by her aunts, Hilda and Zelda. It sounds like something out of a horror movie, right?

They eventually retconned that. They made her a "half-witch" to make her more relatable. Her dad, Edward, was a high-ranking warlock, and her mom, Diana, was a mortal. That’s the lore we usually stick to now.

Why the 90s Sitcom Changed Everything

In 1996, the world changed. Melissa Joan Hart, fresh off Clarissa Explains It All, stepped into the role. This wasn't just another show. It was a cornerstone of ABC’s TGIF lineup. It brought a specific brand of feminist-lite energy that wasn't really seen elsewhere.

🔗 Read more: Jack Blocker American Idol Journey: What Most People Get Wrong

Think about it. The Spellman household was a matriarchy. No dad, no husband—just three powerful women (and a disgraced warlock trapped in a cat’s body) running the show.

  • Hilda and Zelda: They weren't "old hags." They were career-driven, independent, and honestly pretty fashionable for several-hundred-year-old witches.
  • The Closet: Every teen wanted a portal to another dimension in their linen closet.
  • Salem: Voice actor Nick Bakay turned a failed world conqueror into a relatable icon of sarcasm.

The show ran for seven seasons, moving from high school to college, and eventually to Sabrina working as a journalist. It tackled big stuff, too. Body image. Peer pressure. The ethics of using shortcuts (magic) to solve real-world problems. It usually ended with the magic backfiring because, well, that's how sitcoms work.

Chilling Adventures vs. The Sitcom

Then 2018 happened. Netflix dropped Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (CAOS).

If the 90s show was a warm hug, CAOS was a cold, gothic shiver. Based on the 2014 horror comic by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, this version traded the laugh track for Satanic rituals and cannibalism. Kieran Shipka’s Sabrina was less "oops, I turned Libby into a goat" and more "I’m going to sign my name in the Book of the Beast and reclaim my power."

💡 You might also like: Why American Beauty by the Grateful Dead is Still the Gold Standard of Americana

The contrast is jarring. In the sitcom, Salem is a comedian. In the Netflix show, he’s a "familiar"—a goblin in cat form who barely speaks. The "Other Realm" changed from a wacky dimension with a "Witch’s Council" that looked like a 70s game show to a literal hellscape.

The Harvey Kinkle Factor

We need to talk about Harvey.

In every version, Harvey Kinkle is the anchor. He’s the mortal boy who keeps Sabrina grounded. In the sitcom, Nate Richert played him as the lovable, slightly dim jock. Their breakup in season 4 because he found out she was a witch? Heartbreaking. But they ended up together, riding off on a motorcycle to the sounds of No Doubt.

Netflix’s Harvey (Ross Lynch) had it rougher. His family were witch hunters. Talk about a "Romeo and Juliet" vibe. It highlights how the franchise has evolved to match the era it's in. The 90s wanted romance; the 2020s want generational trauma and conflict.

📖 Related: Why October London Make Me Wanna Is the Soul Revival We Actually Needed

The Real Legacy of the Spellmans

What’s the actual point of Sabrina the Teenage Witch? Why does she keep coming back every twenty years?

It’s the "outsider" trope. Every teenager feels like they have a secret that makes them a "freak." Sabrina’s secret just happens to be that she can cast spells. Whether she’s a bubbly blonde in Westbridge or a dark-haired occultist in Greendale, she represents that transition into adulthood where you realize the world is much bigger—and weirder—than you thought.

The show also acted as a bridge for 90s feminism. It passed the Bechdel test almost every single episode. Women talked about magic, history, science, and their careers. Sure, they talked about Harvey, but they also talked about Zelda’s physics research and Hilda’s business ventures.

Actionable Takeaways for Fans

If you’re looking to dive back into the world of Greendale, don’t just stick to the reruns.

  1. Read the 2019 "Something Wicked" Comic: It’s a great middle ground between the sitcom’s lightness and the Netflix show’s darkness.
  2. Watch the 1996 TV Movie: Before the series started, there was a pilot movie with Ryan Reynolds (yes, that Ryan Reynolds) as a love interest named Seth. It’s a bizarre time capsule.
  3. Check out "The Magic Within" Reprints: These are the manga-style Sabrina comics from the early 2000s. They have a totally different aesthetic that influenced a lot of Gen Z fans.

Sabrina the Teenage Witch isn't just a relic of the 90s. She’s a character that shifts shape to fit what we need from a heroine. Right now, we might like our witches a little darker, but don't be surprised if the next reboot brings back the talking cat and the bright colors. Magic, after all, always finds a way to reinvent itself.

To truly understand the impact, you have to look at the creator's intent. George Gladir didn't want a superhero; he wanted a girl who struggled with her homework as much as her hexes. That's the secret sauce. We don't want a perfect witch. We want one who makes mistakes, just like us, but has a cool cat to talk to about it afterward.