Hippie, Hippie, Hooray

 In the vibrant and socially astute Season Four episode of *Bewitched* titled “Hippie, Hippie, Hooray,” which aired on February 1, 1968—a time when America was swirling with cultural upheaval and generational tension—the show wove its signature magic into a sharp yet affectionate satire of the era’s counterculture clash. The episode unfolds with Serena (played with irresistible flair by Elizabeth Montgomery, doubling as her own bewitching cousin) embracing the full flower-power aesthetic: flowing skirts, peace signs, psychedelic makeup, and a rebellious spirit that delights in provoking the straight-laced world around her. Ever the free spirit, Serena immerses herself in the local hippie scene, attending rallies, chanting mantras, and generally embodying the “turn on, tune in, drop out” ethos—much to the dismay of Darrin (Dick York), who finds his carefully curated image as a respectable Madison Avenue executive crumbling under the weight of her antics. The breaking point arrives when Serena’s enthusiastic participation in a protest leads to her arrest—an incident that quickly spirals into a PR nightmare for Darrin when his boss, Larry Tate, and Mrs. Tate witness the commotion, casting doubt on Darrin’s judgment and stability. Fearing for his career and frustrated by Serena’s refusal to conform—even temporarily—Darrin lashes out, blaming her recklessness for jeopardizing everything he’s worked for. But as the dust settles and Darrin sees the genuine hurt in Serena’s eyes—masked, of course, by her trademark sarcasm and a toss of her beaded hair—he realizes he’s reacted not with reason, but with fear. In a moment of rare vulnerability, he seeks her out and offers a heartfelt apology, acknowledging that while her methods may be unconventional, her passion for justice and self-expression is valid—and that his world, for all its rules and routines, is richer for having her (and her chaos) in it. Elizabeth Montgomery, in a dual triumph of physical comedy and emotional nuance, embodies Serena’s defiance with electric charisma while subtly revealing the wounded idealist beneath the glitter and fringe. Dick York, meanwhile, delivers one of his most layered performances as Darrin—exasperated yet empathetic, rigid yet capable of growth—showing that even the most “square” among us can learn to see beyond appearances. “Hippie, Hippie, Hooray” doesn’t just mock the generation gap; it bridges it with humor, heart, and a quiet plea for understanding. Through Serena’s wildflowers and Darrin’s loosened tie, the episode reminds viewers that true harmony isn’t about conformity, but about respecting the different rhythms people dance to—even if one of them is doing the twist in a police station while chanting “love, not war.”