Tonal dissonance defined Dunne’s early films as a director. An actor who featured in the horror classic An American Werewolf in London and starred in Martin Scorsese’s anarchic ’80s comedy After Hours, Dunne made his directorial debut in 1997 with Addicted to Love, starring Meg Ryan and Matthew Broderick. That was another genre-bending piece of ’90s studio quirkiness: Ryan and Broderick play a pair of jilted lovers whose exes start dating each other. The scorned couple resolve to stalk their former paramours together and break them apart, but eventually (of course) fall for each other. The lead duo’s obsessive behavior toward their exes dances right up to the edge of being disturbing; perhaps unsurprisingly, Addicted to Love bombed with critics and audiences.

Dunne brought that same odd atonality to Practical Magic (which was written by Akiva Goldsman, Robin Swicord, and Adam Brooks). In its first 15 minutes, the Owens family’s forbidding history is unfolded: Maria, a young witch in colonial times, was exiled to a coastal Massachusetts island for having an affair, and she cursed her own bloodline when her lover failed to rescue her. As a result, any man who falls for an Owens woman is destined to die, and that’s the fate that befalls Sally’s nice husband (Mark Feuerstein), who’s mowed down by a truck. Now a widow with two young daughters, Sally moves back into the home of her aunts Frances (Stockard Channing) and Bridget (Dianne Wiest) on that same remote island.

This all happens in the prologue. Not only is a family ripped asunder by a wrathful spell, but Sally’s poor children are also mocked in the streets right after their father’s death by the local townspeople, all because of the Owenses’ reputation as a clan of witches. Through it all, Alan Silvestri’s chirpy score tries to keep things feeling pleasant, a trilling flute melody playing over these many mournful affairs. The composer’s skills are tested mightily, with Dunne swerving between horror and humor every five minutes.

Practical Magic is about family, but a theme thrumming throughout is the fearsome strength of independent women. The locals hate Sally’s aunts, though all the pair seems to do is meddle in other people’s love lives (for a price). Their rejection of the traditional family unit—neither is married—is clearly what makes them so alienating to the community. Indeed, any man who enters the story is marked for death from minute one; that goes double for Gillian’s boyfriend, Jimmy Angelov (Goran Visnjic), whom the sisters poison after he gives Gillian a black eye.* Afraid of a pending murder charge, they revive him using dark magic, but he comes back as a demonic zombie, so they have to kill him again.

The rest of the film sees Sally and Gillian evading the cute cop Gary (Aidan Quinn), who’s investigating Jimmy’s death. The sisters’ dynamic is fairly typical for a family movie: Sally is a bit of a stick in the mud, while Gillian is wild and spontaneous. But Dunne eschews whatever disputes might typically erupt from those personality differences and instead throws the women into a murder case. Practical Magic is a romantic comedy of sorts—but only because the sisters have to come to terms with the notion that their relationships with men are eternally bewitched.