The Holroyds are a charming family who live in the Murray Hill district of New York, and one can hardly hold it against them that they are all either witches or warlocks. Author John van Druten is preoccupied with this interesting aspect of their private lives, and he manages to evoke the same morbid curiosity in the audience throughout the course of three acts.

Up until the half-way mark, "Bell, Book, and Candle" is alive more because of the novelty of the situations and characters than because of any sparkling writing. At that point, however, the author becomes carried away by the on and offstage witchery. Toward the end, the play assumes the quality of a poor Charles Addams cartoon. A good deal of the enchantment has gone from van Druten's hocus-pocus.

Lilli Palmer plays Gillian Holroyd, an attractive young witch who takes a liking to a publisher (Rex Harrison) living upstairs. Although witches can't love, she casts a semi-permanent spell on him. Miss Holroyd (whose name means "Holy Rood" in archaic English), is just beginning to enjoy life when her witch aunt and her warlock brother arrive to tangle things up. A pathetic little author of witchcraft books is drawn to the apartment and his descriptions of "them" afford some enjoyable snickers.

Unlike "Harvey," which treated the supernatural as commonplace, "Bell, Book, and Candle" becomes self-conscious after the initial novelty wears off. The first two acts are amusing, partly because of the fine acting of Harrison and Miss Palmer, who twirls a cloak with a professional eclat. Jean Adair, Scott McKay, and Larry Gates give excellent supporting performances, and Raymond Sovey's set is atmospheric and handsome. With some careful pruning and revision, "Bell, Book, and Candle" has a good chance to make the grade on Broadway.