Sabrina Spellman's reign of terror is finally over. Chilling Adventures of Sabrina ends its wildly uneven fourth season, and while I will miss the campy mystery drama (fashion first, Miranda Otto's diction second), I'm definitely not craving Sabrina Spellman, or her Time Paradox stand-in Sabrina Morningstar. From the series premiere to its finale, Sabrina continues to prove herself to be a self-centered, self-proclaimed white savior who never learns to take responsibility for her long list of missteps. While there are plenty of shows whose main characters are also the most depressing, CAOS's biggest mistake is positioning Sabrina's privilege as what also makes her a hero.
In CAOS , the patriarchy is literally the devil, but the series never shows any real interest in engaging with feminism through an intersectional lens. (Just look at the way the show failed on "Prudent Night" for proof.) So the "awakened witch" at the center of the series isn't the inspirational advocate Sabrina imagines to be, but a defender , which is not surprising. Especially white feminism. Although Sabrina touts herself as a social justice activist and ally to the disenfranchised, she — a heterosexual, cisgender white woman born into higher social status and power — has always centered herself , regardless of whether the issue at hand involves her or someone she has some education with. (See: Despite knowing next to nothing about the witch world, Sabrina ran for top boy on her first day at the academy, Sabrina became the Queen of Hell despite spending little time in the hell realm, Sabrina ran for Baxter co-chair and had high grades despite rarely attending mortal school).
Sabrina's repeated pursuit of positions of power she's not qualified for demonstrates the show's inability to consider its heroine's privilege in any meaningful way. Whether she's trying to cheat death by resurrecting Tommy Kinkel or trying to cheat the universe by allowing her doppelgänger to rule as the Queen of Hell, Sabrina has always flouted the rules everyone else follows—not out of selflessness Desire to do the right thing and just for the simple purpose of proving she can. When she knows her friends and family won't support her, she goes to great lengths to hide the truth from them, both out of fear of facing their judgment and an unwillingness to face the impact of her actions on them. others. (Ironically, Sabrina was willing to go to the ends of the earth—and even hell—to protect her agency, but rarely gave her friends and family a chance to agree on how bad it would be for them when she was faced with a decision. have a huge impact on life).
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and if CAOS were a study in how people with well-intentioned intentions can cause so much harm, and how they ultimately learn from their mistakes and grow, it might be one Fascinating, resonant research. series. That's why I was able to examine Sabrina's narcissistic individualism a little early in the series, patiently waiting for her character to develop. But when Sabrina chooses to keep Sabrina Morningstar alive, despite knowing it poses a threat to the entire universe, there's no denying that the only person Sabrina truly cares about is herself.
Despite my better judgment, I still held out a glimmer of hope that CAOS would provide the catharsis I so craved and see Sabrina face the price of her rightful entitlement after the truth about her stand-in was revealed. In the fifth episode of Part 4 ( spoilers ahead ), I think Sabrina (finally!) admits that she needs to take responsibility for creating a time paradox that could destroy the kingdom, but only after the consequences of her secret change Aunts couldn't hide it anymore. Unfortunately, CAOS only treats Sabrina Said she was ready to take responsibility because growth was enough. (Although I should have expected the same from a show that uses "but I pray" as a legitimate excuse to lie.)
Zelda gives a delightful but all-too-brief rebuke of how Sabrina's self-serving lies literally destroyed the kingdom, before the reaction to her universe-threatening secret quickly turns on her friends and family, looking for any loophole to protect Sabrina from paying the true price. Penance - such as two Sabrinas becoming one, or choosing one Sabrina to die. Compare that to The Legend of Zelda's insistence in Season 1 that Tommy Kinkle's resurrection be immediately undone to restore balance, and it's clear that the typical rules simply don't apply to the teenage half-witch.
All we get is the alienated story of a spoiled young woman who puts the entire universe in danger because she refuses to choose between the Queen of Hell and the cheerleaders.
The moral conundrum of how to deal with twins Sabrina might prompt one or both of them to realize that "having it all" doesn't mean refusing to compromise or always lying, gaslighting, and manipulating people to get what you want. (Or that a 16-year-old boy with no interest in harvesting souls shouldn't be the Queen of Hell when Lilith is right there.) But ultimately ( spoiler alert ) it all leads to a martyrdom story that Sabrina Spai Man and Sabrina Morningstar sacrificed themselves to save the universe in the show's final episode.
Even as Sabrina's loved ones weep over her death, my eyes remain dry. The truth is, people would be sadder if Sabrina's death wasn't so avoidable. If we're being honest, Sabrina Morningstar should never have existed in the first place, if Sabrina Spellman had bothered to consult anyone at any step along the way, instead of half-assing it, spreading confusion and increasing the risk , she will likely survive. While many of the final season's problems were the result of mistakes Sabrina made, that doesn't mean she should have to pay for them. In fact, by killing off both Sabrinas, the show lets her off the hook entirely, letting her die as a hero instead of living and fighting her mistakes. Through her death, all of Sabrina's textures and flaws are flattened and forgotten until she becomes a saint-like figure who sacrifices herself for the greater good. That's not entirely an exaggeration: after her death, the Academy erected a golden statue of Sabrina in a spot usually reserved for the coven's gods, positioning her selfish exceptionalism as worthy of not just praise, but even worship. (Don’t even get me started on how the show later revealed that Nick Scratch drowned off-screen so that he and Sabrina could be reunited in Heaven, a blatant attempt to give her a possible backside on a beloved character a happy ending) suicide. )
If handled thoughtfully, Sabrina's worst tendencies—her entitlement, her performative altruism, her omniscient arrogance—could have provided CAOS with a nuanced heroine on the road to self-discovery The journey will resonate with many people striving for independence. But instead, what we get is the alienated story of a spoiled young woman who puts the entire universe in danger because she refuses to choose between the queen of hell and the cheerleading squad, and her selfish frivolity holds her back until the very end. Be celebrated. So while I will miss Zelda, Hilda, Ambrose, Prudence, Lilith, and of course, Fashion, I must say goodbye to Sabrina Spellman. May we never meet again.
