Footsteps crunch fallen leaves that litter a sidewalk on a chilly afternoon. A figure wearing a mask is spotted lingering in the distance. It’s a common scene in October. Not just when trick-or-treating, but when reveling in the franchise that’s most closely tied to this time of year, Halloween.

Michael Myers, the poster child for Samhain for more than 40 years, was recently brought back for a blood-soaked trilogy with many highs and lows. Now that the trilogy has concluded and the past couple Octobers haven’t brought any new entries, let’s take a look at the latest arc in this series. 

Much like the season this franchise inhabits, the Halloween movies are a prime example of transition. Different directors, tones, and narrative arcs are all changed and morphed from one entry to the next. While this kind of change isn’t uncommon for slasher fare, or any long running series for that matter, Halloween stands out in its uniquely eclectic approach to the story of its Boogeyman.

When the original Halloween came out in 1978, it was the most successful indie movie ever made. While its minimalistic approach solidified the tropes and conventions of the slasher sub genre, its iconography, effective atmosphere, and haunting score have solidified it as a staple not just for the horror genre, but filmmaking as a whole. Regardless of John Carpenter’s intent for the ‘78 film to be a standalone story, it was inevitable that its success would be capitalized on. 

You can choose your own adventure with its sequels. Treat the original film as a standalone story. Or follow it up with numbers 2, 4, 5, and 6. Or follow the narrative of 1, 2 and 7. Add the eighth installment to that thread if you’re not too concerned with quality. And you can ALWAYS ignore the third movie (unless you’re a fan of fun, outrageous autumnal sci-fi and don’t care if Michael isn’t in it). 

If this sounds complicated, it is! The newest arc in this confusing saga tries to eschew most pre-existing lore and replace it with its own timeline. For the trilogy produced by Blumhouse, all you need to know is the original movie. With this latest arc, Michael Myers de-transitions from some cult-controlled assassin back to his original shape. A man, or myth, acting without apparent reason, fixated on invading your safe and comfortable home, aiming to carve something other than a pumpkin on Halloween.

After nine sequels of varying degrees of quality, Blumhouse acquired the rights with Carpenter coming on board to produce. Jamie Lee Curtis and Nick Castle reprised their roles as Laurie and Michael. David Gordon Green, Danny McBride, and Jeff Fradley were hired to write, with Green directing. Scott Teems would join to write the second entry and Paul Brad Logan with Chris Bernier would join to write the last.

This is a worthy legacy sequel. It may even be a worthy standalone film.

A notable aspect of the 2018 film is the retconning of Michael and Laurie’s relationship with them being established as siblings in 1981’s Halloween II. This isn’t just a casualty of simplifying the lore but an intentional attempt at elevating the threat of Michael Myers. His originally targeting of Laurie is no longer about ending his bloodline, but a random act of violence and a mysterious fixation. You don’t have to be related to Michael to be in danger.

As much as I enjoy their pre-existing relationship, a vague obsession with no prior relation is undeniably disturbing and a concept that successfully reintegrated the original film’s mystery. This isn’t a one-way street, however. Laurie is just as obsessed with him this time around. 

A major underlying theme in this movie is trauma–mainly how Laurie handles it. She’s obsessed with the serial killer who took her friends from her 40 years earlier, when she barely escaped with her life. That night still affects her and every relationship she has, especially with her daughter. She’s a recluse who’s spent decades preparing for her monster’s return. Everyone either disregards or pities her apparent delusion. That is, until she’s proven right.

In many ways this film is a retread. It follows similar narrative beats to the original but with additions that might appeal to 2018 audiences. A little bit of humor helps make this feel like more of a “popcorn movie” thanks to the supporting cast and the way their characters are written. This is great to watch on a date night or an outing with friends.

But it still retains that ghostly atmosphere of the original, aided by Carpenter’s revamped score and a beautiful use of the camera. Thank cinematographer Michael Simmonds for helping warp suburbia into a hunting ground. Green also sets up and executes some memorable sequences, including a one-take shot of Michael getting up to his usual home-invading antics and toying with his prey with the help of a motion sensing light.

The addition that might appeal most to modern audiences is the type of violence exhibited here: gore galore and intricate post mortem positioning. Michael likes to use his victims as decorations fairly often, that rascal. Murder is obviously a part of the original, along with the use of bodies as ornamental scares. No viscera though. It makes sense that contemporary sensibilities need a little extra stimulation.

Hyper violence and exploitation was a big sticking point in the reaction to Rob Zombie’s maligned 2007 and 2009 remakes. Yet we celebrate it a little more this time around as rage and aggression in those movies is replaced with calculation and coldness here, truer to form for Michael. Some great special effects are showcased.

Not everything is pitch perfect though. Some dialogue is a little jarring, but it’s not unforgivable. This movie’s biggest issue is a character named Dr. Sartain, a man who studies Michael. His way-out-of-left-field characterization only serves to get Michael to Laurie. The only defense I can give his character is a reading filmmakers likely never intended. Dr. Sartain represents the impulsive desire for over-explanation. What does Michael think, feel, want? Why does he do what he does? What’s behind the mask?

We see this realized only for Michael himself to literally stomp out that train of thought. If only my memory of this weird little character could be stomped out too, with his screen time being allocated to the three generations of Strodes. 

All “final girls” in this movie get a solid arc that doesn’t rely on any sequel to finish it. Jamie Lee Curtis is a powerhouse in this movie. She’s enjoyable to watch and easy to root for. Laurie is no longer a reactive final girl clawing to get away. She’s proactive in creating an environment and honing in on skills that’ll ensure Michael can’t ever threaten her again.

Every Strode woman is just as strong. Her daughter, Karen (Judy Greer), is estranged from Laurie. Having an unorthodox and damaging childhood, she was raised to protect herself and kill Michael should he ever return. Karen’s daughter, Allyson (Andi Matichak), has a closer relationship with Laurie. She feels that her grandmother might be a bit troubled but wants to be a part of her life.

Three generations eventually have to face off against the specter that’s haunted all of their lives. They brush up against it separately, but only together do they stand a chance at destroying their trauma. Therein lies one of the most effective and successful aspects of this story. 

This is a worthy legacy sequel. It may even be a worthy standalone film. Apparently some people seem to agree as this entry grossed over a quarter of a billion dollars. If we could have ended things here, maybe it would have aided this film’s legacy. Maybe this would be a beloved gem that nearly reaches the heights of fandom that the first does, even if it doesn’t meet the barebones perfection of the original.

But alas, if there’s money to be made, there’s more to be squeezed out, right? Maybe I’m sounding a little cynical. I’m a glutton for content, even if it’s a little, well…we’ll get to it in a second. 

And that scene sets up the entire tone and conceit of the movie. Blood! Gore! Bodies! Intensity!

What a great Friday the 13th movie! Oh wait, wrong franchise. You’ll have to excuse my confusion as this movie seems to have pride in its high body count with graphic kills, over characterization, and narrative–traits in line with the lovable junk food that is the Friday franchise and less so with Halloween.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a bad movie, just a shallow one. And with it bolstering bodily destruction to sell the violence, this is an awesome slasher. It’s unfortunate that it simultaneously becomes a lackluster descendent of the 1978 film. 

Taking place right after the previous installment, Halloween Kills hits the ground running and rarely eases up on that momentum. It starts with a beautiful flashback to 1978 where we see a different perspective of that night. Here, a glimmer of Michael’s motive is seen. Recall that Michael’s fixation on Laurie is significantly scaled back with the retconning of certain elements. What this film sets up is a fixation on “coming home.” Slightly clever in that this motive harkens back to the tagline of the original film: “The Night He Came Home.”

Michael now seems to just cause bloodshed throughout his stroll back to his house. Specifically his sister’s bedroom/site of his first murder when he was six years old. This newly established motive adds to the ambiguity of the character. He just wants to look out that window. Is it outward toward the banality of Haddonfield, Illinois? Or is he staring inward through his own reflection?

Personally, I’m still a little torn up about this new insight. Mystique aids the character but for some reason this feels less abstract and more confusing. 

You know what’s not abstract? Taking out a dozen firefighters like John Wick! Yep, that’s our present day intro to Michael. From ominous prowler to skilled hand-to-hand combatant. How far we’ve come. And that scene sets up the entire tone and conceit of the movie. Blood! Gore! Bodies! Intensity!

While present in the previous outing, here it’s the focus. We even get to see Michael set up one of his punctured victims as an art piece. More insight into what goes on in that masked head of his. Speaking of masks, we also get to see his fixation on keeping his own on at any cost. Considering the last movie seemed to actively shut down answering questions about what makes Michael tick, this one loves to give inklings. 

Gore isn’t the only focus here. The main underlying theme seems to be mob mentality. This tracks considering the political landscape at the time but the movie seems to do nothing with it. Mob mentality leads to bad things. Understood. Anything else? No? Ok. 

What of our beloved final girls? Well, they’re severely underutilized. Laurie gets sidelined to a hospital bed for 99.9 percent of the runtime, and the other two don’t do much until the very end. Allyson joins the mob’s hunt for Michael and a brief face off leads to her mom coming to save her. A far cry from the previous film’s climax. Karen meets a pointless send off as many others do, even when they could’ve been used to enrich what little narrative there was or could be in a sequel.

Characters from the 1978 film are reintroduced with some returning actors, but it all just feels like fan service. I usually hate that term because I’m a fan and I have no problem being serviced. It could be argued that the last film was strung together mostly by fan service. But this one brings characters back who have been appreciated for decades only to say “We got them back. Pretty neat right?” and then kill them off.

Yes, they’re also here to emphasize how the town is haunted by those 40-year-old events. But no one gets enough time to imbue any pathos or poignancy to that concept. But at least we get more bodies, I guess. And a second John Wick-style slasher scene at the end. Amazing. 

The brilliance of the original idea for this slasher was that John Carpenter thought of Michael as elemental. That’s why in the credits he’s named “The Shape.” That whole original movie is about a killer being rationalized by everyone other than his psychiatrist. Dr. Loomis insists that he’s “pure evil.” I don’t think that’s a common diagnosis from a professional. Yet he insists. By the end of the movie, we see what this killer endures. We see that he’s more than a man. He’s the Boogeyman. He’s more than Michael Myers. He’s The Shape.

That’s a brilliant approach that weaves in ideas of urban legends and an autumnal avatar while validating suspension of disbelief. He can survive all those bullets because he’s almost mythical. Carpenter had Michael walk on the line of ambiguity perfectly. Not completely supernatural, not completely natural. David Gordon Green wanted to show that Michael was in fact an incarcerated madman in 2018. Fine, that’s still an effective scare. So why would he pull back from that claim by the end of this story?

If we no longer have that suspension of disbelief validated, why force us to suspend it for this finale? Michael survives bullets, stabbings, and bludgeoning while Laurie states he’s supernatural. The director says he’s a man and has the protagonist of his film say he’s not. Michael performs a supernatural feat while the director says it’s not. This isn’t ambiguity, it’s a lack of direction.

I won’t beat a dead horse any longer, as much as this film likes to. Halloween Kills is fun, entertaining, and a decent slasher. But it doesn’t know what to do with its characters or story. There’s no beginning, middle or end. This is a filler episode that serves only two purposes: make money and set up a finale.

This fever dream of a film somehow felt more in line with the surrealism of the first than the 2018 sequel, even if it is way sloppier. 

What a weird little creature this is. I don’t know if you were around to see the reaction to this film, but it wasn’t good. Not good at all. I love this one. This finale starts with a jaw-dropping cold open that immediately cues you into the idea that this sequel is about to do something very different.

We’re introduced to Corey Cunningham, a nice young man who gets involved with a horrible accident. Another important narrative aspect is the emotional state of Haddonfield. Fear, paranoia, and hatred pervade the town as suicide and homicide are on a strong incline. Michael has disappeared after his rampage and people are looking to take out their frustrations on whoever they could blame. Corey, Laurie, and Allyson all have a hostile experience within this post-Kills Haddonfield. 

One of the most confusing choices, among the many that exist in Ends, is the abrupt characterization of our leads. Laurie’s motive for 40 years was preparing for Michael’s return despite his incarceration. When he was locked up, she constructed an entire house sized trap all while training herself and her daughter to use an entire arsenal. Now that he’s on the loose, she’s writing a book and baking pies. When Michael “wins” and claims her daughter, she suddenly becomes upbeat. This doesn’t follow her arc from the previous two films in any way, and yet, it’s fun.

Grandma Laurie is comforting and funny while still fierce. Allyson’s characterization tracks for the most part until about halfway through the film where she chooses to side with a stranger over her grandmother. Corey has the most natural progression throughout this film, even though he’s the latest addition to this entire franchise. Meanwhile, Michael is old and weak hiding under the town, only to be revitalized by Corey as the pacing starts to ramp up.

This film is a bizzaro version of Kills in that it’s trying to do too much as opposed to doing too little. They both have excess, but the surface-level viscera of the previous entry is where all that overindulgence lies. Here, this film tries to juggle about a dozen ideas and themes. Bullying, ostracization, projection, nature vs. nurture, and a town curse that parallels Covid-19. With all these concepts floating around, you might be wondering how they utilize their time to tackle all of it. Well, they don’t.

Very few things have time to breathe in this movie. Everything about the narrative and characterization, as I’ve said, is abrupt. That being said, the choppy arcs and choices feel very 80s in some ways. Maybe I’m just being swayed toward that interpretation by the way this movie looks. Ends is the most stylistic of this trilogy. Its usage of color mixed with the best score of these three entries is borderline hypnotic at times. 

Everything that didn’t work in Kills works here. Mainly because it’s so audacious that its failings just seem endearing/respectable. This film delivers on an unfulfilled promise made in (the now retconned) Halloween 4 from 1988. A passing of the torch. An heir. The Shape existing outside of Michael Myers. This film’s biggest swing is letting someone else slash away in that mask. Not only that, but we see Michael mentor that next generation slasher. It’s insane, weird, disturbing, and oh so entertaining. 

Unfortunately, Corey and the idea of having someone continue Michael’s legacy make Laurie feel like an afterthought. Her final confrontation with Michael is shoehorned in and they find a convoluted way of turning Allyson against her only to return in the nick of time and join the fight. Again we see a lesser version of the climax to Halloween (2018). 

Only upon this revisit did I notice just how flawed this finale was for the Blumhouse trilogy. I’m still glad it exists because it scratched some sort of 80s unconventional slasher itch. This fever dream of a film somehow felt more in line with the surrealism of the first than the 2018 sequel, even if it is way sloppier. 

Each movie manages to distill what fans like about the previous 10 franchise films over the course of a trilogy. The first film exemplifies Michael and Laurie. The second being the slasher sub genre. The third being John Carpenter’s dream-like atmosphere and big swings.

No sequel will ever match the perfection of the original–this much seems to be confirmed (not that they won’t stop trying). However, some can match the energy, or style or entertainment value. This latest trilogy allows fans or newcomers who need a Halloween fix during Autumn the chance to sample a little bit of everything that makes the first one so synonymous with falling leaves, a cool breeze and jack o’ lanterns.  

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featured image graphic by EMILY STEPHENS