Dustin Vann
For over half my life, Prue Halliwell, the telekinetic eldest sister on the long-running supernatural drama Charmed, has fascinated me. Much of that fascination is thanks to her portrayer, the late Shannen Doherty, who imbued Prue with her own unflinching confidence, courage, and vulnerability. There’s also always been a sense of loss with the character, whose tragic and unceremonious death at the end of the show’s third season robbed us of seeing Prue fulfill her full potential—a potential that, according to Doherty on her podcast Let’s Be Clear, shouldn’t have been snuffed out at all.
That’s where the fascination started for me, and why I’ve always maintained that she’s my all-time favorite TV character. But as I’ve gotten older, I wanted to test that declaration. Would my connection to Prue hold up, revisiting the show at 30 years old?
The answer, as I rewatched the first three seasons of Charmed (the Prue Era, if you will) in its entirety earlier this spring and summer, is an empathic yes. If anything, my admiration for and connection to Prue deepened in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Revisiting Prue’s journey, becoming reacquainted with her strengths—and, most crucially, her flaws—at this point in my life put me on my own journey of affirmation and self-discovery.
***
Prue: Phoebe, I’m working.
Phoebe: More like working it.
Prue: …Okay, it’s a little different
— Charmed, Season 2, Episode 9, “Ms. Hellfire”
Finding the right wig can be life-changing.
I’d worn wigs before, but this one—a billowing, deep red, paired with a sparkling cropped tank top—was different. I moved with a confidence I hadn’t felt before. My shoulders relaxed; my chest loosened. If anyone looked at me sideways, I didn’t notice or care. I had completely embodied my character—the villainous Victoria from the Twilight series, all for a themed birthday party.
As a queer person, I’ve always been in awe of anyone confident enough to tap into their femininity and proudly display it in a world that’s always finding new ways to weaponize it. For so long, my lack of self-confidence and abundant self-awareness stopped me from outwardly expressing my own feminine energy: Would I be able to pull it off? Would people laugh at me? It wasn’t until I brandished that red wig and bejeweled top that I realized only one question mattered. One question that unlocked everything: Who gives a shit if you’re having fun and feel good?
This is more or less the character arc Prue experiences in the season two episode, “Ms. Hellfire.” It’s a pivotal Prue episode, one that finds her gaining the power of astral projection and going deep undercover as the cool, slinky assassin known as—you guessed it—Ms. Hellfire. At this point in the series, Prue feels like she’s being stretched thin by her demanding job at an auction house, plus her duties as a Charmed One and eldest sister. “I need another me; I don’t even have time to have fun anymore,” she laments. Cue the arrival of her new power which, while not immediately fun, does allow her to be two places at once. When a spray of Ms. Hellfire’s bullets nearly takes out Prue and her sisters at Halliwell Manor, an investigation leads Prue to pose as Hellfire and uncover who hired the fashionable assassin of witches.
It’s a reckless decision that leaves Prue vulnerable and with a new power she doesn’t know how to control, but you understand why she jumps at it. She’s always been strait-laced and tightly wound, her true inhibitions held back by a need for control. Reaching her breaking point, Prue needs a break from the demanding routine of her life. She’s immediately drawn into Hellfire’s world, fawning over the faux furs, leather dress, and wigs she finds at Hellfire’s apartment.
Phoebe: Is it just me or are you a little too eager to play this role?
Prue: It’s not a bad role to play.
There’s a glint in Prue’s eye (and, by extension, Doherty’s) during this exchange where you can tell she’s aware of the risk she’s taking, but needs this thrill.
I’ve always enjoyed this episode, watching Prue step out of her comfort zone so successfully. Yes, her undercover job allows the sisters to take down the baddie of the week—Barbas, the demon of fear they previously faced in season one—but also, she gets to be a total badass, embrace her sensuality, and make out with a hot guy. These are levels of cool I could only dream of reaching as a teen, ones I strived for throughout my 20s. Without fully realizing it, Prue’s journey in “Ms. Hellfire” inspired by my own mission to unlock my inner “hot girl.” It took some time (and additional inspiration from another female baddie from another supernatural universe), but the same can be said for Prue. The confidence to stand up to others was always there, but the confidence to stand up to herself, to demand the occasional change in routine, took some building towards.
But just as the Hellfire persona emboldens Prue’s inhibitions, it also enhances one of her biggest character flaws: her insistence that she can handle every threat on her own.
***
“This is one fight Death is not going to win.”
— Charmed, Season 3, Episode 16, “Death Takes A Halliwell”
Prue and Death have a long history.
Even in the future, which the sisters visit in the season two episode “Morality Bites,” Prue is contemplating death and the legacy she’ll leave behind. “I have no one to say goodbye to,” she tells her sister Piper upon discovering she’s become a platinum-blonde girl boss with no personal life to speak of. She predicts that her headstone will read, “‘Here lies Prue, she worked hard.’”
Of course, no one’s legacy can be boiled down to something so trite, especially not Prue’s. But when you’re a single twenty-something who seemingly only has work to keep them busy, it can be easy to talk yourself into thinking that you have no one, you’ll never have anyone, and the world will move on without you. It’s a thought spiral so powerful it can knock the wind out of you.
***
I thought rollerblading worked like bike riding: no matter how long you stepped away from it, your body never forgot what to do.
I went out on a weekend, a desolate time on K-State’s campus. I’d be alone, but I knew the area well. I wouldn’t push beyond my limits—not too beyond the limits, anyway.
A few cautionary spins around the smooth cement gave me enough confidence to blade further down a lengthy sidewalk. If I felt myself lose control, I’d veer toward the nearby lawn. A smart and safe strategy.
Of course, the inevitable happened: I lost control and, even as I veered into the grass, that didn’t stop my feet from coming out beneath me. I fell hard and fast onto my back; all the air left my lungs and I lay there, paralyzed and helpless on an empty campus.
I wasn’t dying, but it felt like it. I wasn’t dying, but what if instead of landing on grass, it had been concrete? My life didn’t exactly flash before my eyes during or after this accident (which thankfully, only left me with a bruised back), but I don’t think I’ve felt more alone than I did that day in the grass. How long would it take for anyone to realize I was gone if I couldn’t get back up? And what did the answer say about the life I’d built for myself so far? I had friends, family that would help me—but I knew I wouldn’t let them. I was too self-reliant, too convinced that I could conquer even this on my own. Pulling myself upward, I made the agonizing journey back to my car and drove myself home.
***
Much like Prue’s trip to the future did for her, my rollerblading mishap led to quite the humbling realization about who I am and how I live my life. But it’s one thing to come to that realization, and another to overcome it.
Just ask Prue. In a later season two episode, “P3 H20,” we learn that as a little girl, Prue witnessed her mother’s death, watched her be carried away in a body bag. This tragedy has informed the trajectory of Prue’s entire life, from her place as the mother-like older sister to her fears of water and dying young.
It also informs her trajectory as a witch. Initially reluctant to embrace her magical destiny, Prue becomes most passionate about being a witch in season three, at times completely consumed with the business of saving the innocent and nothing else. In “Sight Unseen,” she’s so hell-bent on trapping the demon Belthazor that she dismisses a very-human stalker who nearly kills her. When she accidentally becomes an empath in the very next episode, “Primrose Empath,” instead of trusting Whitelighter Leo’s warning that this gift wasn’t meant for her, Prue insists otherwise, powering through until the weight of the world’s emotions very nearly crushes her.
These near-death experiences don’t serve as some wakeup call, though. Prue just believes that she truly is invincible. She’ll continue conquering death—until she learns straight from the source that she can’t.
***
From all we know, Prue’s death wasn’t planned by the show’s writers. Yet it’s pretty remarkable to look back at her character arc and see the unintentional foreshadowing.
It’s most notable in “Death Takes A Halliwell,” an episode just a handful away from Prue’s last. In it, the sisters battle the Seekers—vampire-like demons who extract information through their fangs. They’re the real enemy, but for Prue, there’s another: Death.
More specifically, the Angel of Death. Prue, once again grappling with her mother’s death, sees a shadow specter visible only to her, she insists that she’s “supposed to find it.” When the shadow reveals itself as the Angel of Death, Prue is immediately on the defense. She sees Death as evil, a demon to be vanquished. Even as Death coolly explains that he’s “beyond her powers,” Prue remains relentless. “I’m not going to let death take any more of my innocents,” she proclaims. “I’m tired of losing people.”
What follows is less a dance with Death and more a test. Prue bargains with Death once she discovers his next “victim” is also her innocent; Death shuts down her pleas with a cold, harsh truth: try as she might to absolve her own anger, there’s no beating him. When Prue does the unthinkable and allows Death to carry on his business (i.e. collecting her innocent’s soul after he’s killed by the Seekers), he offers her a one-two punch of a reveal: had she let her anger and pride get in the way of her innocent’s destiny to die, she would’ve been next on Death’s list. “Don’t worry, it’s not your time,” he says when Prue’s eyes widen with fear. “Not just yet, anyway.”
Of course, her time does come, sooner than anyone would’ve expected. Perhaps that makes Prue’s death a few episodes later feel more realistic. Regardless, if we had to lose Prue, I’m glad we got this episode beforehand—even if the Angel of Death’s parting words are a grim reminder of what’s to come.
***
I was nearly done with my rewatch when Doherty passed away in mid-July 2024. I could’ve wrapped it up weeks before, but hadn’t wanted it to end. “Death Takes a Halliwell” was one of the episodes I had remaining, and as I tearfully took it in, I was reminded of what made her—Doherty, and through her, Prue—so special to me. Doherty gave Prue her fiery determination, effortless cool, and unshakeable vulnerability. These qualities are present in every Charmed episode, but perhaps even more so in this one.
“Death Takes A Halliwell” ends with Prue, alone and crying on the beach as Death leaves her—for now, anyway. It’s a sad, haunting image that feels like more than just the ending of an episode. But then the next episode begins and there’s Prue, back at Halliwell Manor with her sisters. She’s fierce and vibrant and alive. Through this magic trick of what we call instant play, Prue has lifted herself up and chosen to keep going. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s just getting started.
References
“Death Takes A Halliwell.” Charmed, created by Constance M. Burge, season 3, episode 16, Spelling Television, 2001.
Doherty, Shannen. “Let’s Be Charmed…with Holly Marie Combs (Part 2),” Let’s Be Clear with Shannen Doherty, episode 3, iHeart Radio, 17 Dec. 2023, https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/lets-be-charmed-with-holly-marie-combs-part-2/id1718531401?i=1000638897105.
“Morality Bites.” Charmed, created by Constance M. Burge, season 2, episode 2, Spelling Television, 1999.
“Ms. Hellfire.” Charmed, created by Constance M. Burge, season 2, episode 9, Spelling Television, 2000.
“P3 H2O.” Charmed, created by Constance M. Burge, season 2, episode 8, Spelling Television, 1999.
Dustin Vann is a writer, reader, and pop culture lover from Kansas. He holds a B.A. and M.A. in English, both from Kansas State University, and his fiction has appeared in their literary magazine, Touchstone. He writes about his love of movies at The Film Vannatic, a Substack newsletter he launched in October 2024. IG: @dvann93 X: @DustinVann
Featured Photo: Shannen Doherty as Prue in Charmed
