Wanda’s death doesn’t completely undo her spell, but it weakens it just enough for Agatha to realize how she’s been trapped and remember the only escape: summoning a coven and walking the Witches’ Road, a mystical path that forces each of its five members to face personal confrontations. Jennifer Kale (Sasheer Zamata) must grapple with the fact that she’s been using her potion-making skills to sell fake wellness products, while Alice Wu-Gulliver (Ali Ahn) faces the generational curse that claimed her rock star mother in a scene straight out of Stereophonic. Adding to the chaos is a menacing septet of witches and an ex-lover, Rio Vidal (Aubrey Plaza), who can’t decide if she wants to kill Agatha or rekindle their relationship—an emotional maze Plaza has mastered.
Then there’s the mysterious teenage boy (played by Heartstopper’s Joe Locke), who shows up at Agatha’s doorstep seeking magical training and ends up joining the coven on their quest, though his purpose remains unclear. Every time he tries to reveal his name, a spell silences him, so Agatha simply calls him “Teen.” The boy’s true identity is hinted at throughout Agatha All Along, with references to a mysterious “he” responsible for the witches’ loss of power. Fans of the comics or anyone with a quick Google search may notice an empty nursery in Agatha’s home and the name “Nicholas Scratch,” offering a clue.
These little hints are designed to keep viewers hooked, urging them to keep tuning in for the next piece of the puzzle. However, as history has shown with mystery-box shows, the journey often outshines the destination, and satisfaction can be elusive. While anticipation stretches easily over time, the payoff can feel underwhelming. Even WandaVision struggled after revealing its big twist, despite Agatha All Along taking its name from the iconic musical moment of that show’s reveal.
Still, Agatha All Along is plenty of fun, even if the best moments are found in the margins. Kathryn Hahn plays Agatha with a deliciously acidic wit, as if she stopped caring about the world’s nonsense centuries ago. The cast shines in their comedic moments, like Patti LuPone’s witch refusing to exit through an oven door, recalling a “friend” for whom that didn’t end well. Yet beneath the humor, there’s a sense that the self-contained storylines will inevitably give way to the demands of a larger narrative, turning fun into homework.
The show often feels like an ode to the many fictional witches that have come before, from The Wizard of Oz to The Craft, with rearranged elements of an age-old tale: powerful women forced into conflict to distract from their common enemy. But as engaging as the distractions are, the looming sense of an inevitable conclusion casts a shadow, reminding us that the destination can sometimes detract from the joy of the journey itself.