In this misbegotten sequel, The Widows of Eastwick, the once-saucy witches of John Updike's 1984 fantasy return to the scene of their mischief but now they're senior citizens with weak bladders and receding gums. (Fear not: The Updikean sex scenes transpire in flashback.) There are some wonderful passages here, but they get lost in the rambling, untidy plot. The magic is definitely gone. C+

