Okay, settle back into that comfy armchair, maybe imagine the satisfying clunk of a fresh tape sliding into the VCR. Remember those afternoons or evenings spent glued to the TV, maybe catching something unexpectedly charming on cable? That's precisely the vibe surrounding 1996's Susie Q, a made-for-TV movie that blended teen romance, ghostly shenanigans, and a double dose of nostalgia – for the 90s viewer and the film's 1950s setting. It wasn't a blockbuster, never destined for the big screen, but for a certain audience, particularly those navigating their own teenage years in the mid-90s, it struck a sweet, spectral chord.
### A Ghostly Blast from the Past (Via the 90s)
The premise floats somewhere between Ghost and a John Hughes film, filtered through the bright lens of 90s television. We meet Zach Sands (Justin Whalin, familiar to many from TV's Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman around that time), a teen grappling with the recent loss of his father and a move to a new town. Wouldn't you know it, his new house comes with a permanent resident: Susie Q (Amy Jo Johnson), the ethereal spirit of a vivacious teenager killed in a car crash on her way to the prom back in 1955. Susie's stuck, unable to move on, and only Zach (and eventually his little sister) can see her. Her unfinished business? Retrieving a missing will that could save her grandparents from eviction – orchestrated by the very banker who, back in the day, had a hand in the events leading to her demise.
It's a classic setup, directed by John Blizek and penned by Shuki Levy and Douglas Sloan. Now, that name Shuki Levy should ping the nostalgia radar for anyone who grew up on 80s and 90s kids' programming. As one of the masterminds behind Saban Entertainment, Levy was instrumental in bringing shows like Mighty Morphin Power Rangers to overwhelming global success, and he often composed music too – including for Susie Q itself! Knowing Saban produced this adds a layer of context; it explains the film’s specific energy, aiming squarely at a younger demographic with its earnest tone and PG-level drama.
### The Pink Ranger's Phantom Performance
Let's be honest, a huge part of Susie Q's appeal in 1996, and why it lingers in memory for many, was its star, Amy Jo Johnson. At the absolute peak of her Pink Ranger fame, seeing Kimberly Hart swap her Pterodactyl Power Coin for poodle skirts and ghostly transparency was a draw. And she’s genuinely charming in the role! Johnson brings an infectious energy to Susie, capturing both the character’s effervescent 1950s spirit and her spectral frustration. She bounces, she beams, she pines – it’s exactly the kind of performance that connects with a teen audience. Justin Whalin provides a solid anchor as Zach, the slightly morose 90s kid drawn into her otherworldly dilemma. Their chemistry is sweet and believable, forming the emotional core of the film. And hey, Shelley Long (Cheers) pops up as Zach's mom, lending a bit of veteran comedic timing to the proceedings.
### That TV Movie Glow
Filmed primarily in Vancouver, British Columbia (a frequent stand-in for American towns in 90s productions), Susie Q has that unmistakable look and feel of a mid-90s TV movie. The lighting is bright, the fashion is peak 90s (for Zach and his contemporaries), contrasted with the idealized, colourful vision of the 1950s seen in flashbacks and through Susie’s own style. The special effects are simple, mainly relying on transparency effects to signify Susie’s ghostly nature. Watching it now, these effects feel incredibly quaint, a reminder of a time before seamless CGI became the norm. There’s a certain charm in that simplicity, though – it keeps the focus firmly on the characters and their emotional journey.
The film cleverly uses its dual time setting. It plays with the fish-out-of-water element, as Susie marvels (and is sometimes baffled) by 90s technology and culture, while Zach gets glimpses into the seemingly simpler world of the 50s. The soundtrack reflects this, mixing period-appropriate tunes with a 90s score, courtesy of the aforementioned Shuki Levy. It’s nostalgia viewed through a nostalgic lens, creating a warm, if somewhat sanitized, look at both eras.
### More Sweet Than Spooky
Despite the ghostly premise, Susie Q leans far more towards sweet teen romance and light drama than spooky chills. The plot unfolds predictably: Zach agrees to help Susie, they uncover secrets about the night she died, confront the now-elderly antagonist, and race against time to find the will. There are lessons about grief, moving on, and finding connections in unexpected places. It's heartfelt and aims directly for the emotional payoff, which it largely achieves, even if the path there is well-trodden. It's the kind of movie you might have stumbled upon on The Disney Channel (where it premiered in the US) and found yourself unexpectedly invested in Susie’s fate. It definitely secured a spot on many a blank VHS tape via the magic of the 'Record' button.
Did it change the face of cinema? Absolutely not. Is it a perfect film? Far from it. The plot mechanics are sometimes clunky, and the resolution perhaps a bit too neat. But Susie Q possesses an undeniable earnestness and charm that transcends its limitations. It captured that specific mid-90s moment when teen idols felt accessible, and ghost stories could be more about connection than terror.
VHS Heaven Rating: 6/10
Justification: Susie Q earns its points for its sheer nostalgic charm, Amy Jo Johnson's genuinely winning performance during her Power Rangers heyday, and its effective blend of teen romance and gentle ghost story tropes. It’s a perfect example of a mid-90s TV movie comfort watch. Points are deducted for its predictable plot, simple production values (understandable given its origins, but still noticeable), and occasional cheesiness. It does exactly what it sets out to do, providing a sweet, slightly melancholic, but ultimately feel-good experience.
It might not be high art, but Susie Q is like finding a cherished mixtape from your teenage years – a little dated, perhaps, but guaranteed to bring a warm smile of recognition. It’s a gentle reminder of simpler times, both the 1950s it depicts and the 1990s it came from.