Still Bewitching After 60 Years

Still Bewitching After 60 Years

Comments

Leave a comment

BEWITCHED is probably my favorite television series of all time. I know — that’s a big claim, especially since THE MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW (my rock‑solid number two pick) was more consistent from start to finish. But when it comes to pure joy, the best BEWITCHED episodes hit a level nothing else quite reaches. The show first enchanted audiences back in 1964, but I didn’t discover it until the 1990s, when I was a kid — and I fell for it immediately. It felt like I’d stumbled onto something that had been waiting for me.

I’d planned to start this blog in 2024 for the show’s sixtieth anniversary, but life had other ideas. So here I am, a little late, still just as excited to celebrate BEWITCHED — its humor, its progressive streak and the unforgettable characters who made it timeless.

When BEWITCHED first sparkled onto TV screens on September 17, 1964, it didn’t just entertain people — it genuinely enchanted them and helped reshape the television landscape. Sixty years later, it still stands as one of the most beloved sitcoms ever made: a bright mix of domestic comedy, romantic fantasy and sly social satire born out of the creative energy of the early ’60s.

The premise was simple but surprisingly bold: what happens when magic crashes into suburban conformity? The answer was a show that charmed viewers for eight seasons, delivered 254 episodes and became one of ABC’s biggest hits of the decade. It also turned Elizabeth Montgomery into a household name — her fame eventually outshining that of her movie‑star father, Robert Montgomery.

At its core, BEWITCHED was about marriage, compromise and identity. A powerful supernatural being choosing to live as a suburban housewife — and trying not to rely on her powers — reflected the cultural tensions of the 1960s. The Stephens’ home at 1164 Morning Glory Circle became the perfect stage for domestic comedy blended with social commentary.

Audiences loved the show’s mix of sharp humor and whimsical special effects, but underneath the laughs, BEWITCHED was exploring deeper themes: conformity, personal identity and female autonomy. Samantha Stephens may have been a suburban housewife, the “little woman” behind her Manhattan advertising‑executive husband, but she was also confident, capable and quietly feminist — long before network TV was comfortable using that word.

And of course, you can’t talk about BEWITCHED without talking about Endora. Agnes Moorehead played her with dazzling flair. While Elizabeth Montgomery and William Asher gave the show its creative heartbeat, Endora was its spark — the thing that made BEWITCHED more than just a suburban sitcom with a magical twist. Moorehead, already a respected stage and film actress, brought both gravitas and whimsy to a role that could have easily been one note. More than a meddling mother-in-law, she was a comic foil and a cultural commentator, poking holes in suburban illusions and challenging conformity. She kept the show unpredictable — sabotaging Darrin’s career one week, charming his clients the next and always delivering a perfectly timed barb. And her refusal to remember her son-in-law’s name became one of the show’s longest running jokes.

As part of this blog series, I’m rewatching and writing about all 254 episodes from the show’s eight‑season run. If you want to come along for the ride, I’d love the company. Let’s rediscover how BEWITCHED keeps casting its spell, one twitch of the nose at a time.

Although every episode credits Sol Saks as creator, BEWITCHED’s beginnings were a lot more collaborative than that single name makes it sound. Saks did write the pilot, but producer Harry Ackerman’s vision and director William Asher’s steady hand shaped the show as we know it. In the early 1960s, Harry Ackerman — already known for family comedies like FATHER KNOWS BEST and THE DONNA REED SHOW — was developing new projects for Screen Gems. According to Ackerman, he actually came up with the idea of a fantasy sitcom about a witch married to a mortal man before Saks was even in the picture. It was one of several concepts he talked through with William Dozier, then Vice President of Screen Gems’ West Coast operations, in 1963. Dozier approached George Axelrod and later Charles Lederer about writing the pilot, but both bowed out because of other commitments. That’s when Saks, a seasoned radio and TV writer, was brought in.

Harry Ackerman
Sol Saks

Saks adapted Ackerman’s idea into a script that openly drew from earlier fantasy stories — especially I MARRIED A WITCH (1942) and BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE (1958). Once Screen Gems approved the pilot, Saks stepped back from day‑to‑day involvement. In addition to writing the pilot (“I, Darrin, Take This Witch, Samantha”), he received a “Story By” credit on the fourth episode, “Mother Meets What’s-His- Name,” likely because the idea of introducing the tension between Samantha’s mother and her mortal husband early on was part of his original plan.

From that point on, the show’s tone, pacing and character development were shaped by others — most notably Danny Arnold and William Asher, the pioneering TV director (he directed 61% of all I LOVE LUCY episodes) who also happened to be married to Elizabeth Montgomery.

Enter Danny Arnold — Giving the Suburbs Their Spark

Danny Arnold — who served as producer, head writer and story editor during Season 1 — was one of BEWITCHED’s most important early shapers. He already had a reputation for sharp comedy writing on THE TENNESSEE ERNIE FORD SHOW and THE REAL MCCOYS, and he brought that sensibility straight into BEWITCHED, helping transform it from a high‑concept fantasy into a sharply observed portrait of suburban life.

Danny Arnold

He created some of the show’s most iconic supporting characters: Larry Tate, the Madison Avenue ad executive who could change his tune in a heartbeat, and Gladys Kravitz, the eternally nosy neighbor whose hysteria became one of the show’s signature running gags. Arnold believed the magic only worked if the human problems underneath were real — that Samantha’s spells should heighten real‑world tensions rather than erase them. That approach gave BEWITCHED its distinctive blend of warmth and satire.

Arnold left after the first season because of creative tensions with William Asher and Screen Gems, but his influence stuck. The suburban world he helped build — half ordinary, half enchanted — became the show’s template for years to come.

Elizabeth Montgomery & William Asher — The True Magic Behind the Magic

At the heart of BEWITCHED was the creative and personal partnership of Elizabeth Montgomery and William Asher. They met in 1963 on the set of the crime film JOHNNY COOL, which Asher directed and Montgomery co‑starred in. They initially disliked each other, then fell in love during production and married later that year.

Soon after, they began looking for a project they could shape together. Their agent arranged a meeting with William Dozier for a sitcom idea of their own about a wealthy debutante who marries an auto mechanic, much to the dismay of her high‑society family.  But Dozier instead sent them to Harry Ackerman, who already had a more imaginative concept in development: a love story between a witch and a mortal man trying to live a “normal” suburban life.

The project had originally been developed for Broadway star Tammy Grimes, who was under contract to Screen Gems. Grimes disliked Saks’s original script, and by the time revisions were ready, she had committed to a Broadway show and left her contract. That opened the door for Elizabeth Montgomery—and for Asher, who directed the pilot.

After ABC picked up the series, Montgomery assumed Asher would be named producer. Screen Gems hesitated, wary of husband‑and‑wife production teams after issues on THE DONNA REED SHOW. By this point, William Dozier had left Screen Gems to start his own production company, and his replacement — former child star Jackie Cooper — wasn’t buying Elizabeth Montgomery’s claim that Dozier had promised William Asher would produce the series, that she’d have casting approval and that her creative ideas would be folded into the scripts. According to Cooper’s autobiography, when Montgomery realized he had no intention of honoring any of that, she coolly announced she was walking away from the project.

After checking in with ABC, Cooper and Screen Gems quietly lined up screen tests with three other actresses to read opposite Dick York, who had played Samantha’s mortal husband Darrin Stephens in the pilot and had already signed on for the first season. But on the very day those tests were supposed to happen, Cooper says a messenger delivered a handwritten letter from Montgomery. In it, she apologized for not respecting his professional judgment and assured him she’d work well with executive producer Harry Ackerman — though she still hoped Screen Gems would keep Asher in mind for the future.

And Asher did end up shaping the show in a major way. He directed more than half of all BEWITCHED episodes during the first three seasons, even while others were officially credited as producers. When Danny Arnold left after Season 1, Jerry Davis took over in Season 2, followed by William Froug in Season 3 — but Asher’s creative fingerprints were everywhere. Credited as Production Consultant, he influenced everything from casting choices to the show’s balance of whimsy and sincerity. He even came up with Samantha’s signature nose twitch, inspired by one of Elizabeth Montgomery’s own little tics. By Season 4, Asher was finally credited as producer, solidifying his role as the show’s guiding hand. And according to Jackie Cooper, Elizabeth Montgomery never spoke to him again during the five years he remained at Screen Gems.

William Asher and Elizabeth Montgomery on the set of BEWITCHED

Under Asher’s leadership, the show gradually shifted toward much more overt supernatural storylines. In the earliest episodes, producer Danny Arnold had worked hard to keep the magic grounded in everyday suburban life — Samantha’s spells were used sparingly and usually to highlight real‑world tensions. But once Asher fully took the reins, the fantasy side of the show started expanding in a big way. Magical relatives showed up more often, shape‑shifting and time‑travel plots multiplied and the Stephens’ suburban home turned into a stage for increasingly whimsical enchantments.

Samantha’s flamboyant cousin Serena — played by Elizabeth Montgomery in a black wig — became a recurring character starting in the fourth season (after a single appearance back in Season 2). Montgomery played Serena as a deliberate contrast to Samantha, leaning into sharper, more theatrical gestures, a bolder vocal style and glossier costumes to make the differences unmistakable and to show off her comic range.

Serena’s first appearance: “And Then There Were Three” Season 2
Serena’s second appearance: “Double, Double, Toil and Trouble” Season 4
Serena’s final appearance: “Serena’s Youth Pill” Season 8

All of this reflected Asher’s comedic instincts — shaped by his years directing I LOVE LUCY — as well as the audience’s growing appetite for fantasy. The result was a show that balanced domestic warmth with supernatural spectacle, keeping BEWITCHED fresh and inventive even as it leaned more heavily into its magical premise.

The Series That Put ABC on the Map

When BEWITCHED debuted in 1964, ABC was still seen as the “junior” network, lagging far behind CBS and NBC. The show’s instant success changed that almost overnight. In its very first season, BEWITCHED shot up to #2 in the Nielsen ratings, becoming ABC’s highest‑rated program and proving the network could hold its own against the big players.

With BEWITCHED as its breakout hit, ABC didn’t just get a popular show — it gained credibility. The Stephens family’s enchanted household, with Endora swooping in and out, quickly became a defining part of ABC’s mid‑1960s identity. It was a reminder that a little magic — both literal and metaphorical — could completely transform a network’s fortunes.

The End of the Spell — or Just a Pause?

By the time BEWITCHED reached its eighth season (1971–72), the show had started to lose some of its early sparkle, both on screen and behind the scenes. Elizabeth Montgomery and William Asher’s marriage was under real strain, and both of them were worn down by the grueling production schedule. Ratings had also slipped from their peak — not surprising, since ABC had scheduled BEWITCHED directly against CBS’s new smash hit ALL IN THE FAMILY — though the show still held onto a loyal audience.

Before Season 7 even aired, everyone had agreed it would be the final year. But then the “Salem Saga” story arc (featuring scenes shot on location in Salem and Gloucester) kicked off Season 7 with strong ratings, and Screen Gems suddenly changed course.

They negotiated a deal with Montgomery and Asher for an eighth season, giving them nearly 80% ownership of the show and, at long last, official creative control. (Take that, Jackie Cooper!) And during Season 8, they even reached an agreement for a ninth season — with the possibility of a tenth.

But for Elizabeth Montgomery, continuing after Season 8 just wasn’t possible. Her marriage to Asher had fallen apart, and she was ready to move on to more dramatic roles. Recasting Samantha was briefly floated and quickly dismissed. Instead, Screen Gems and Asher fulfilled their contract with ABC by producing THE PAUL LYNDE SHOW (1972–73). Starring BEWITCHED favorite Paul Lynde and reusing parts of the production team, it lasted only one season — marking the true end of the Stephens family’s televised adventures.

My Own Bewitching Discovery

My BEWITCHED journey didn’t start in 1964 — it really began in the 1990s, when Nick at Nite was running the first two seasons (the black and white years). I remember catching it almost by accident and feeling that immediate click. The humor, the warmth, the magic — it all felt strangely familiar, like something I’d been waiting to find.

And as a little gay kid in the ’90s, Endora wasn’t just a character to me — she was a revelation. Agnes Moorehead’s wit, her theatrical confidence, the way she could command a room with a single look… she made every episode she touched feel sharper and more alive. Whether she dropped a perfectly barbed insult, swept into the Stephens’ living room like she owned the place or delivered one of those legendary silent glares, she gave the show its edge. She was the reason I kept coming back.

When I realized the color episodes (Seasons 3–8) were airing during the day on “superstations” like TBS and WOR, I got determined. I wanted to see all of it — and preserve the episodes in order. This was long before complete‑series DVDs, so I built my own little proto‑DVR setup: a cable splitter feeding two VCRs in my bedroom, each one recording different episodes while I was at school. It was a whole operation.

The result was my own hand‑made BEWITCHED archive on VHS — fuzzy picture, random commercials, imperfect tracking — and I loved it. Those tapes are still somewhere at my parents’ house, a little monument to how hard I fell for this show.

Seeing Endora in full color for the first time was honestly a shock in the best way. The jewel‑toned gowns, the dramatic makeup, the ever‑changing hairstyles — she looked like a living piece of art. Color didn’t just brighten the show; it made her feel even more iconic.

When the complete series finally came out on DVD, I bought every set (even though only Season 1 had real bonus features). And now, for BEWITCHED’s 60th anniversary, I’m rewatching and blogging about every episode — from the pilot (“I, Darrin, Take This Witch, Samantha”) to the final first‑run episode (“The Truth, Nothing but the Truth, So Help Me Sam”).

I’d love for you to watch along (the series is streaming on Hulu), share your own memories and rediscover what makes this show so special — not just as nostalgia, but as a smart, progressive, beautifully crafted piece of television history. Sixty years later, BEWITCHED still has us under its spell.

Leave a comment