There’s a certain look of a feel-good, fun-for-the-whole-family horror-ish film from the Eighties. It’s got poofy hair, oversized geometric-print tops, and pink windbreakers. Somewhere, a girl is wearing big earrings and ankle socks with white heels and she’s wandering the mall, hoping to catch a glimpse of the hunk who works at Sam Goody. The air smells like corn dogs and pretzel bites, and as you race past the Dippin’ Dots to get an Orange Julius, you may grab a free sample from Mrs. Fields. It’s good vibes only. Abracadabra looks like it was ripped straight from the Sherman Oaks Galleria in 1986, only it was shot in Hong Kong and Taiwan. But much like love, the feeling of a mall is universal.
A mysterious, cursed mirror opens a portal into another world. And like all the best doors, it lets people in and lets people out. In this case, a group of the undead saunter through slowly and a team of Buddhist monk warriors work to contain the horde. But they’re powerless against Pinkish Red, a woman who wears a pinkish red robe, just like her name promises. Now Pinkish Red and her evil minions exact revenge on the ancestors of the people who wronged them. These ancestors happen to be mallrats. We have Cheng Sheng and his friend Rambo who work at a hair salon called La Chic. Under no circumstances would you ever allow anyone named Rambo to cut your hair, but this is the magic of film. We also have Cici and Lily, two young ladies who are opening a women’s clothing boutique that one customer deems “uncouth” as if they sell shirts made out of dildos (sadly, they do not). Of course, there’s only one problem: They need a mirror.
Like the mall, Abracadabra is a hybrid of horror and comedy. There’s wholesome slapstick, boner-led jokes that go d-d-doiiing, and sight gags that genuinely made me laugh because I am nine years old. There are ghosts that throw food in people’s faces, ghosts that fear hair dryers, and ghosts that bunny hop menacingly toward their victims, which shouldn’t work but somehow does. Someone does get a haircut from Rambo and it’s even better than you can imagine. At times the comedy bits are taxing and cringe-worthy, but then we get a demon-woman who floats gracefully over the crowds. While Abracadabra doesn’t contain much gore or any over-the-top violence, it is still comforting, like a blue raspberry Icee you got from the food court. The set pieces are beautifully crafted, including a cave covered with day-glow skulls. The practical effects are fun; who doesn’t love a good face-melting scene? While it doesn’t come close to the heights of any Category III Hong Kong film, Abracadabra provides a coziness that those movies lack, as long as you’re open to watching a few boneheads fumble over some mall hotties.
