he Massachusetts-based Owens clan has been engaging in light witchcraft for many decades now, led by genial matriarchs Aunt Franny (Stockard Channing) and Aunt Jet (Dianne Wiest). But they’ve also been cursed for centuries, way back when witch Maria was burned at the stake, prompting an unbreakable spell that causes the lovers of Owens women to endure tragic demises. Sisters Sally (Sandra Bullock) and Gillian (Nicole Kidman) previously dealt with that daunting hex, managing to survive it but not break it; and now, Sally’s daughters Kylie (Joey King) and Antonia (Maisie Williams) will have to come to terms with the family’s woes of falling in love.

“Magic makes relationships complicated.” It would all be simpler if Sally had had boys instead of girls. But alas, there wouldn’t be nearly as much for them to do, though there’s surprisingly little for Antonia in this story, regardless. Kylie winds up inexplicably reading from an enchanted book of spells, as well as dabbling in a witchy concoction or two, despite Sally making a point of refusing to practice thaumaturgy, deeply burying her true identity, and withholding information about her capabilities from her daughters. She withholds virtually all information about the black arts from audiences, as well, since viewers are only treated to a handful of emotional outbursts that cause glass to shatter, or opportunities to gently blow on candles to ignite them – which means that when she can suddenly splinter a wooden door with a pushing motion, or expel wispy smoke from her fingertips, it’s certainly not a previously understood bit of psychokinesis.

As with many pictures featuring mild supernatural components, “Practical Magic 2” just sort of makes up rules about such elements as it goes along. The magic is anything but practical; it’s unexplained, undefined, unlimited, and spontaneous. Alchemy is conjured only when the plot randomly calls for it, which means that it’s also overwrought and noticeably orchestrated; there’s never anything natural or sensible about the way the Owens kin wield their abracadabrism. As a result, it has fleeting impact, with the climax representing the very worst way to utilize bolts of undulating energy being flung about in a clash of pointless powers.

“No magic is stronger than sisterhood.” If this conspicuously belated sequel does anything right, it’s that it recreates the odd formula from 28 years prior, mixing romance with the occult – and a dash of sisterly bonding. It again boasts a curious blend of weepy, sentimental slush and flashes of scary imagery, though it also spends a good deal of its runtime on cheery celebrations, the sipping of margaritas, and reminiscences about childhood whimsies.

Yet this retread of the same pesky curse is terribly generic, uninspired stuff; it’s repetitive, unoriginal, and far too uneventful. Even the pairing of the believer and the skeptic on an international road trip isn’t a winning formula; thrills are at an absolute minimum and a couple of stale one-liners is all that is offered in the place of humor. The premise, feeling as if de-energized for an aging cast (it’s admittedly amusing that Channing and Wiest were available to reprise their roles, not unlike the bulk of the returning cast members in “The Devil Wears Prada 2” earlier this year) unable to do too much movement, particularly with the tightness of their faces, moves at a snail’s pace. After every location change, full sequences are devoted to gooey wooing, which goes nowhere for Sally, who has long ago given up the spotlight for someone else’s storyline to take over. The alternation of goofy and spooky isn’t nearly enough to counteract the sluggish narrative, nor is the reunion exceptional enough to warrant this theatrical followup.

– Mike Massie