Plot
Two witches in colonial Salem, Jennifer (Veronica Lake) and her father Daniel (Cecil Kellaway), are burned at the stake after being denounced by Puritan Jonathan Wooley (Fredric March) and their ashes buried beneath a tree to imprison their evil spirits. In revenge, Jennifer curses Wooley and all his male descendants, dooming them to always marry the wrong woman.
Centuries pass. Generation after generation, Wooley men - all played by March - marry cruel, shrewish women. Finally, in 1942, lightning splits the tree, freeing the spirits of Jennifer and Daniel. They discover Wallace Wooley (March again), living nearby and running for governor, on the eve of marrying the ambitious and spoiled Estelle Masterson (Susan Hayward), whose father (Robert Warwick) just happens to be Wooley's chief political backer.
Initially, Jennifer and Daniel manifest themselves as white vertical smoky 'trails', occasionally hiding in empty (or sometimes not-so-empty) bottles of alcohol. Jennifer persuades her father to create a human body for her so she can torment the latest Wooley. He needs a fire to perform the spell, so he burns down a building (appropriately enough, the Pilgrim Hotel). This serves dual purposes, as Jennifer uses it to get the passing Wallace to rescue her from the flames.
Jennifer tries hard to seduce Wallace without magic, but though he is strongly attracted to her, he refuses to put off his marriage. She concocts a love potion, but her scheme goes awry when a painting falls on her; Wallace revives her by giving her the drink she had intended for him.
Jennifer's father conjures himself a body. Then he and Jennifer crash the wedding, though they are at cross purposes. Daniel hates all Wooleys and tries to prevent his daughter from helping one of them. His attempts at interference land him in jail, too drunk to remember the spell to turn Wallace into a frog. Meanwhile, Estelle finds the couple embracing and the wedding is called off. Her outraged father promises to denounce the candidate in all his newspapers.
Wallace finally admits that he loves Jennifer, and they elope.
Jennifer then works overtime with her witchcraft to rescue her new husband's political career. She conjures up little clouds of brainwashing white smoke that "convince" every voter to support Wallace, and he is elected in a landslide, where even his opponent doesn't vote for himself. The unanimous vote for him convinces Wallace that she is a witch. In disgust, Daniel strips his daughter of her magical powers, and vows to return her to the tree that imprisoned them.
In a panic, Jennifer interrupts Wallace's victory speech, imploring him to help her escape. Unfortunately, the taxi they get into to get away is driven by her father, who takes them in an airborne ride back to the tree. At the stroke of midnight, Wallace is left with Jennifer's lifeless body, while two plumes of smoke watch. Before they return to the tree, Jennifer asks to watch Wallace's torment. While Daniel gloats, Jennifer reclaims her body, explaining to Wallace, "Love is stronger than witchcraft." She alertly puts the top back on the bottle of liquor her father is hiding in, keeping him drunk and powerless. The movie concludes years later, after Wallace and Jennifer have children, where the housekeeper enters to complain about their youngest daughter, who enters riding a broom.
Read more about this topic: I Married A Witch
Famous quotes containing the word plot:
“Those blessed structures, plot and rhyme
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?”
—Robert Lowell (19171977)
“There comes a time in every mans education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better for worse as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given him to till.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (18031882)
“The plot was most interesting. It belonged to no particular age, people, or country, and was perhaps the more delightful on that account, as nobodys previous information could afford the remotest glimmering of what would ever come of it.”
—Charles Dickens (18121870)