What scares me isn’t how short life is, no, it’s the pain, all the pain. I don’t understand why there has to be any pain.
I adore Sukie Ridgemont, one-third of the famous Witches of Eastwick from the 1987 hit movie of the same name. She’s one of Michelle Pfeiffer’s most pure-of-soul characters—kindhearted mother, sweet friend, and kindred introvert spirit. That’s probably why I love her so—just like any true empath, she feels others’ pain and it affects her deeply. I relate to her, deeply.
An absolutely marvelous Cher (when isn’t she, though?) plays Alexandra the tough cookie, the funny and sarcastic alpha woman of the group. Jane provides Susan Sarandon the opportunity to play a great arc that takes her from mousy nerd to sultry siren. As Sukie though, Michelle is the heart and soul of The Witches of Eastwick. All of the women undergo a sort of sexual (re)awakening when Daryl Van Horne (Jack Nicholson in deliciously unctuous mode) arrives in their small, sleepy New England town. Yet, even before Daryl the Devil manipulates them for his own pleasure, Sukie is leery of his oily charms. Then, once they’re all under his sway, she still acts as the voice of reason, the friend who can inspire Alexandra to take action and snap Jane out of her carnal cat in heat mode.
Halloween season offers an annual reminder of some of my favorite cinematic witches, and Michelle’s performance as Sukie will always rank right near the top. Eastwick, and the rest of the world, are better for having Sukie in them.