THE LEAGUE OF GENTLEWOMEN WITCHES

A screwball adventure within a paranormal comedy of manners.

Charlotte Pettifer, the prophesied leader of the Wicken League of Gentlewomen Witches, stumbles into pirate Alex O’Riley while stealing a briefcase and just manages to escape by flying a bicycle over the roofs of London: Thus begins Holton’s second madcap rom-com about magic and mores in an alternate Britain, following The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels (2021). The gossamer-thin plot, in which Charlotte and Alex jostle to retrieve a magical amulet that belonged to a legendary witch, is mainly an excuse for clever banter, scenes of flying houses straight out of a Pixar movie, and jokey allusions to Jane Austen’s oeuvre. As the two careen around the countryside in Alex’s decrepit Irish cottage with his butler, Bixby, in search of the dangerous, wedding-obsessed witch who has stolen the amulet, arguing over who has kidnapped whom, they also tumble into bedroom activities. As they draw closer, Charlotte must accept her free spirit and learn to make friends, while Alex has to come to terms with childhood abuse by his parents and his own fear of intimacy. But the moments of self-reflection and mutual comforting between the two are kept to a minimum. With her arch turns of phrase and clever wordplay, Holton provides plenty of chuckles, evoking the gap between serious style and ridiculous content or vice versa that was the hallmark of the mock epic and Oscar Wilde. There’s no actual satire here, however, just a fun-filled romp in a topsy-turvy world of corset-wearing, knife-wielding, magic-casting women and gun-wielding, light-fingered, charming pirates. The end drags on a bit, but the cast of characters continues to amuse.

For those who like romance that’s light on sex and heavy on hijinks.