Mia Goth as Maxine / Pearl Jenna Ortega as Lorraine Martin Henderson as Wayne Gilroy Scott Mescudi as Jackson Owen Campbell as RJ Brittany Snow as Bobby-Lynne Stephen Ure as Howard
NOTE: This is a new release and the review is based off a theatre viewing. This means the review won’t feature common elements like visual analysis, extended theme analysis, or long-form discussions of the cinematic techniques being used. Once I am able to get a copy of the movie to watch, pause, analyze, and get stills from the review will be updated to match the current site’s standard.
The camera starts positioned behind a doorway, framing the shot in a smaller boxier format reminiscent of old-school movies. The camera pushes through the door and the frame extends to a wide shot, revealing a bloody crime scene. This change in frame size sets the stage for what’s to come as the film proper finds itself switching between a boxy format and a wide format, the former used in depicting the pornographic film that the main characters of the story are shooting and the latter used to depict the story proper. As the camera crosses the door’s threshold from one “frame” to another, it becomes apparent that the liminal space between these two frames of reference – art and reality – is what X sets out to explore.
While police investigate the trail of violence at the scene, a television set on the premises blares the ramblings of a conservative Christian preacher talking about moral degradation – a clear contrast in values to both the violent setting and the story of the aspiring pornographers. With carnage guaranteed, the film cuts to 24 hours earlier.
One of the crew-members, Maxine (Mia Goth) sits in front of a mirror and gazes into her reflection. She adulates herself while snorting cocaine, affirming her identity as a “star”. Her boyfriend and the producer of her films, Wayne (Martin Henderson) retrieves her from the dressing room she occupies, frisking her and the rest of his crew to a rural property in Texas for their next project. On the way to the location, the crew enter a gas station; Maxine bemoans her lack of status but Wayne assuages her and reaffirms that her “X-factor” will propel her into the limelight; while the couple valorizes the star-making powers of pornography the voice of the Christian preacher from the film’s start comes into prominence from a television in the station, decrying the degenerate functions of sexual deviancy brought about by the culture of sexual liberation; once again a contrast in values is emphasized between conservative Christian values and the pleasures which the former decries as sin.
Even within the crew there’s a difference in orientation towards sex. The director of the pornographic film, RJ (Owen Campbell) believes that porn can be elevated to the level of “art” while the actors see it as nothing more than a good bit of fun; it’s just smut after all. Thus, sex is positioned as art, entertainment, impulse, and source of evil. Director Ti West takes these perspectives and also transposes them against the slasher genre, a mapping which works out given the similarities in domain; slashers not only feature healthy amounts of fanservice in the form of scantily-clad/nude women but the sub-genre’s focus on gore, violence, and methods of execution position it as a pornography of violence.
In this sense, the moralizing of the preacher doubles as the moralizing inherent to the slasher genre which often finds its most promiscuous characters dying in brutal fashion while the virginal characters, chaste and “uncorrupt”, escape from the clutches of the killer. This transformation of the sub-genre’s themes to literal character qua superego gives the film a distinctive flavor wherein the protagonists are less fighting an antagonist killer as much as they’re fighting the ethical template by which “slashers” are structured. As the film cuts between the pornography being shot and the story proper, the binaries present between slasher/porn, porn/art, art/reality become blurry and suggest that the difference is just a question of vantage point.
The beauty of X stems from its ability to engage in such posturing without forcing the audience to forgo the slasher proper. West constantly cuts from shots of the porno to shots of the film proper begging the question on where artifice and art begin and end in relation to one another. In addition, he consistently utilizes a triple cross-cut between seemingly disparate events to suggest a hidden connection. None of these cuts interrupt the flow of the action or the momentum of the story, so an audience uninterested in the why can enjoy the bloodshed unabashedly without having to worry about thinking through a potential payoff while viewers more focused on cerebral elements of the filmmaking and themes can analyze the flow of the editing – it’s the perfect balance between engaging with the audience while entertaining them in the manner they hope.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
X is one of the best slashers to come out this side of Wes Craven’s Scream, deconstructing the slasher sub-genre in a fresh new way while relishing in its gory fun. The film’s navigation into the intersections of art, sexuality, reality along with the clever nods to the horror genre at large make it a must-watch for genre fans looking for a great time while providing enough heady material for viewers wanting to do a deeper-dive on the material.
Rating
10/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Jaime Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode James Jude Courtney as Michael Myers Judy Greer as Karen Andi Matichak as Allyson Anthony Michael Hall as Tommy Doyle
NOTE: This is a new release and the review is based off a theatre viewing. This means the review won’t feature common elements like visual analysis, extended theme analysis, or long-form discussions of the cinematic techniques being used. Once I am able to get a copy of the movie to watch, pause, analyze, and get stills from the review will be updated to match the current site’s standard.
As a fan of director David Gordon Green’s 2018 namesake, revival and sequel to John Carpenter’s original 1978 masterpiece, Halloween, I was hopeful that Halloween Kills would continue its predecessor’s measured approach at delving into the psychology of the characters, namely Laurie(Jaime Lee Curtis), in relation to Michael(James Jude Courtney). While not in the same league as the original, Green’s previous film at least seems to understand that the terror of Michael stems not just from his brutality but from his inability to be understood or cognized. As an emissary and force of evil, he remains an enigma.
Unfortunately, Kills forgets this key fact and throws nuance to the wind in favor of brash and abrasive points, many of which become especially confusing when given a few moments thoughts. The film’s title sequence serves as warning for what’s to come. In contrast to Carpenter’s original film’s eerie and evocative opening sequence which sets its pace with a slow push in on a jack-o-lantern that flickers menacingly, Halloween Kill’s introduction opts for something more grandiose, pushing in on a sea of flaming jack-o-lanterns which dissipate upon contact with the camera. The former approach favors the slow build-up before the spectacle, choosing to savor the moment of impact, while the latter favors extravaganza for its own sake, trading slow and methodical for bombastic. These orientations towards terror set the stage for their respective films; Halloween is a tense, atmospheric, palpable nightmare waiting to imprint its horror onto its audiences’ mind, while Halloween Kills is a to-the-point gore-fest that seeks to assault its audience with a barrage of scenarios that fail to leave a lasting mark after their initial presentation.
While the story picks up right at the end of the previous film, it almost immediately undermines everything that happened before. As Laurie, Karen(Judy Greer), and Allyson(Andi Matichak) make it to the hospital, Michael is promptly freed from his burning prison and soon starts to slaughter everything in sight. His massacre calls the attention of the residents of Haddonfield, who, under the rallying cry of a much older and still very much traumatized Tommy Doyle(Anthony Michael Hall), the young boy Laurie babysat in Carpenter’s film, go to ensure “evil dies tonight.” Consequently, the narrative jumps between groups of civilians who try and hunt Michael through the city, unaware soon-to-be victims caught in the middle of his rampage, and Laurie along with her family recovering at the hospital.
Alas, none of these narrative threads is interesting or unique. Laurie’s story might as well have not been in the film given how little she ends up doing, and all the non-Laurie related plot-lines follow the same formula as one another: introduce character, introduce said character’s quirk in lieu of meaningful personality, kill character in brutal fashion. If the character is a mob character as opposed to just a victim caught unaware, they will mention, without fail, how dangerous Michael is to confront alone, let alone with group, before then confronting him alone. Forget predictable, try exhausting. Never at any point, does anything amount to more than casually interesting, and most of the film comes up much shorter than even that.
Rather than setting firm foundation and direction for the story and its ideas to traverse along, Green and his fellow screen-writers seem content with establishing threadbare connections to Carpenter’s ’78 film, as though mere association is enough to transfer heft from one story to another. Halloween Kills confuses reverence to the most minute details for enthralling cinematic texture, assuming that because the characters are related to the first film, that somehow the audience will care about them and invest into their respective stories. Every single character or detail, big or small, is highlighted by the film as if screaming, “See, it’s all connected!” But, by and large, the effort comes off as farce. No one outside of Laurie and her family, has any embellished reason for doing what they do, and the narrative never gives the audience a reason to root for the mob and their efforts.
Furthermore, even though the last film makes it clear that Michael’s murder spree in 1978 isn’t as serious a sequence of violence as status quo events (ex: modern shootings), Kills expects the audience to now believe that there are throngs of people around who are as upset and devastated about the spree as Laurie. This insinuation not only undermines the contextual work of the last film but also moots Laurie’s unique connection to the situation. If everyone is as obsessed about the event as her, then the last film would not have happened as it did, but Kills requires this to be true in order to ramp up to the ham-fisted themes and set-pieces that it so desperately wants to present as evidence of its artistic depth.
It’s evidence that the film wants to serve as a moral warning against succumbing to mob violence; don’t pursue uncontrolled violence lest you become a monster yourself. However, the story presents no alternative to the problems mob violence seeks to resolve, especially within its own context. When a police officer talks about how they didn’t want to shoot Michael once apprehended due to respect for shared human empathy and respect for the law, it seems obvious that, without context, the audience should be in favor of such a view. Officers killing unarmed and captured enemies should not be encouraged. But because we know Michael is a brutal murderer, a point the film gleefully reminds us of as he mutilates teenagers, couples, and the elderly galore, the message of restraint and respect for rule of law becomes much more confusing, especially when the narrative constantly demonstrates just how inept the law is at dealing with such events. If monsters are bad and the law is unable to stop them, chastising mob violence and condemning it in such a moralistic fashion muddies the discourse surrounding the issue.
The point also fails to make any resounding impact given that the film is a CELEBRATION of violence. It’s hard for the consequences of mob violence to linger in one’s mind in thought-provoking fashion when the camera treats this violence no differently than it does Michael’s carnage tour. If we’re supposed to marvel and cheer at the effective, technical execution of the latter, it becomes difficult to explain why the audience shouldn’t cheer for the former, especially when both are treated in the same manner: on-display gore for the audience to gawk at.
As a result, even though Halloween Kills share many of the same qualities as the early movies in the Friday the 13th franchise, namely disposable characters and focus on brutal set-pieces at the cost of narrative or thematic depth, it never reaches near the same levels of entertainment because it takes it forces its subject matter to be treated with a undeserved gravity that makes the overall experience uneven and tepid. Despite boasting Carpenter’s excellent score, slicker moment of gore, and a more robust production than many of the Friday films, Kills inhibits enjoyment by trying to tie the gratuitous and over-the-top violence to more severe and intricate themes.
With no one to cheer for and no hefty ideas to mull about on, it’s hard to recommend Halloween Kills to anyone but ardent fans of the franchise, good and bad, and gore hounds looking for mean-spirited slayings. The story is confused and doesn’t know if it wants to be a serious contemplation on evil or a carnage candy exhibition; consequently this identity-crisis permeates and undermines the film at critical junctures, leading little to offer. I can only hope that the follow-up, Halloween Ends, wraps things up nicely, but with how disappointing Kills ended up being, I’m not holding my breath.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Halloween Kills is a sorely lacking sequel that not only squanders all good will engendered by director David Gordon Green’s previous film Halloween but also fully drops the ball for the upcoming finale, Halloween Ends. The film wants to be both a blood-bath and a piece with heart, but it fails to do either effectively because it spends no time setting up its characters or its story beats for meaningful success. Only ardent franchise fans and lovers of gore should check this one out.
Rating
4.8/10
Grade
F
Go to Page 2for the for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Taissa Farmiga as Max Malin Åkerman as Nancy / Amanda Alia Shawkat as Gertie Alexander Ludwig as Chris Nina Dobrev as Vicki Thomas Middleditch as Duncan Adam DeVine as Kurt Angela Trimbur as Tina Daniel Norris as Billy Murphy
Release Date
2015
Language(s)
English
Running Time
91 minutes
After losing her mother, Amanda, in a tragic accident, Max and a group of her friends go to a fan screening of the popular Camp Bloodbath, a Friday the 13th ripoff Amanda starred in decades before. However, during the screening things go awry and Max and her friends find themselves trapped in the world of the slasher movie with no explanation as to how they got there or how to get out. Faced with no other option, the group is forced to play along with the narrative to find a way back to the real world.
Now if the synopsis didn’t make it clear enough, this is a movie that’s a love letter to 80’s slasher movies, especially those from the Friday the 13thfranchise. From Camp Bloodbath’s “KiKiKi MaMaMa”- based parody theme to the increasingly caricatured acting from the fictional movie’s cast, every trope you know and love is here and is ready to be celebrated. However, what sets the movie apart from other slasher comedies is the emotional center that serves as the movies main through line. The story opens on Max and Amanda and demonstrates just how much the mother-daughter duo depends on one another. The latter, having been typecast as sexy bimbo who gets killed due to her involvement with the slasher cult hit, is desperate to find a role that will let her be a real star, while the latter fawns over her mom while dealing with tasks like managing the bills. Watching Amanda dies it’s clear that Max’s world is shattered and Farmiga conveys her characters grief by going from bubbly and filled with life to desolate and lethargic. That’s why her journey into a movie where her mom was a star hits so hard – it’s her chance to reunite and deal with the trauma in a moving, albeit unconventional way.
On the right, Max (Taissa Farmiga) bonds with her mom, Amanda (Malin Åkerman), before the latter’s untimely death. Once she gets trapped in the world of Camp Bloodbath, she gets to bond with her mom’s breakout character, Nancy, who gives her a spiritual chance at bonding with her mom one more time. The relationship between these 2(3?) is the heart of the movie and gives it an unexpected emotional weight.
It’s this emotional center that elevates the usual slasher formula into something that gets you to cheer for the characters success because even the stock caricatures get an extra level of depth due to their humanizing connection to the actual actors. Max relating to her Amanda’s character Nancy reminds us that there’s an actor hiding behind every character that seeps and pervades through the representations we see on screen. This makes the clash between the “real” life characters – Max, Gertie, Chris, Vicky, and Duncan- and the movie’s characters – Nancy, Tina, Amanda, and co. – enthralling because they twist the perceptions we have of stock characters and gives them a chance to show us something more. It also injects the movie with a healthy dose of existential humor as the Bloodbath characters are forced to reckon with their fictional makeup in contrast to something more “real”, begging the question of what reality even is.
It’s this playing with reality that gives the movie its unique comedic angle, setting it apart from the sea of slasher comedies that have come to inundate the market post Scream. Duncan, the Camp Bloodbath super fan, acts like the Randy of the movie and explains the worlds tropes and plot mechanisms – there’s a final girl who happens to be a virgin, people die when they have sex, and so on – while giving the audience the perfect nerd to cheer alongside. He helps the group determine the rules of the movie-turned-reality so that they can break and manipulate them to figure out a way to get out. Max and co. realize near the start of the movie that they can’t leave the story without playing along in a comedic scene that shows the Camp Bloodbath staff driving by the characters every 92 minutes (the run-time of the in-universe movie). Waiting just introduces another playthrough, so they’re forced to take action.
The group is stuck in a loop where the movie plays back-to-back on loop, until they decide to make themselves part of the in-universe movie’s story.
As they become more familiar with the way slasher conventions work, they engage in some pretty ingenious mechanisms to bypass typical scenes to increase their chances of survival. On the flipside, some of their experiments don’t work out as well which introduce some bleak, yet hilarious moments that keep the audience constantly guessing as to what the next step is going to be. The result is a movie that plays along with our expectations while subverting them at every turn. The more you know about slashers, the more fun you end up having because the game becomes guessing how the trope will be subverted instead of witnessing the trope happening.
In an attempt to highlight this constantly changing perspective, the movie makes wonderful use of a constantly moving camera. There are quite a few arc shots (where the camera moves steadily in a circle) that highlight the absurdist nature of the movie’s narrative, reinforce the idea of the characters being stuck in loops of sorts, and constantly highlighting the juxtaposition of the story of Camp Bloodbath against the injunction of real life characters. One of my favorite moments in the movie involves a characters getting brutally killed after thinking they’re safe as the camera starts turning in a circle and zooming in highlighting just how wrong they actually were. The movement keeps us as disoriented as the characters and adds another layer of empathy as we realize that neither us or Max and co. know exactly what’s going on.
Complimenting this visual vertigo is the narrative whiplash that occurs as modern “real” people interact with outdated 80’s slasher stereotypes and dive beneath their personas. Homophobia and sexual objectification meet their modern match which allows the movie to lampshade its baser fun with bits of commentary. In one scene, Kurt, the prototypical jock/sex fiend, makes some bigoted jokes to Chris which are quickly shot down by the latter’s more open worldview, but the presence of a challenge to the retort forces Kurt to delve deeper (not that much) into what he actually thinks. Moments like these between the different intersections of characters allows the movie to relish in its homage while making comments on the side without ever coming off as too obnoxious or on the nose.
It helps that every single member of the star studded cast nails their performances, with special kudos given to the Camp Bloodbath members who are forced to play both a caricature and a deconstruction of those same stereotypes as they figure out their true metaphysical makeup. DeVine nails the contemptible player persona from the laid back and confident posturing to the arrogant smirk he keeps on his face. Meanwhile, Trimbur makes the slutty, sexy girl who typically dies first far more energetic and expressive than she has any right to be by injecting a manic ton of energy into contorting her body and facial muscles. Being the emotional center of the movie, both Farmiga and Ackerman bring a surprising amount of tenderness to the story, displaying a real sense of vulnerability with one another. There are moments in the third act that tug at the heartstrings because of how believable their real and fictional bond is built up and played out. In particular, Ackerman nails the fictional character realizing that they’re both real and not real with some expressions that exude fear and love simultaneously.
The only things holding the movie back are some less than stellar CGI elements along with some story moves that feel like they should’ve paid off in bigger and grander ways. The movie plays so well with sub-genre conventions that the presence of such overt and modern digital effects feels completely out of place.
One of the bad CGI renderings that threatens to distract the audience from the beauty of the movie. This scene of a car crash feels like a cut-scene from a PS2 game and feels out of place compared to the realism of what came before.
If these were a one-off occurrence it’d be fine, but these issues crop up enough during the run-time to feel like an issue. Given how clever the movie is with playing with sub-genre conventions, I was surprised that these moments weren’t rendered with cheesy and over-the-top practical effects to keep with the 80’s slasher energy. Adding to this is the soft rules approach the movie utilizes to keep the pace going. As I mentioned earlier, the tropes that are recognized are subverted in ways that aren’t expected which keeps an underlying sense of mystery and tension at bay, but because there are no clear and fast rules there are definitely some moments that just come off as odd. The movie can just explain them away as anomalies like everything else, but that comes off feeling lazy with how intricate other scenarios play out. If these moments were capitalized on and explained in the context of the story or breaking certain tropes, the movie would’ve felt more cohesive and tightly knit.
That being said, what we get is a heartfelt, clever, and truly funny movie that any slasher fan should give a watch. Every character feels distinct and interesting, despite the fact that some of them are walking caricatures, and watching their inevitable clashes among one another is constantly entertaining. Even though it’s comedic, the movie wants to be more than just funny and constantly combines its humor with epic visual compositions and narrative shifts that demonstrate just how much love went into the worldbuilding. The riffing and appreciation of sub-genre tropes plays well with the way they’re subverted and gives the movie a constant energy that should keep you invested from start to finish.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
The Final Girls shows that horror comedy very much has more room to explore in its ingenious design. The story of characters getting trapped in a slasher movie explores and relishes in genre conventions, while at the same time upending them to great effect. The effect is a dark absurdist comedy with an emotionally resonant center that keeps the otherwise fantastical elements feeling grounded, yet entertaining. Horror fans – slasher fans especially – should check this love letter to the sub-genre if they haven’t already. It’s sure to entertain and leave you wanting more.
Rating
9.1/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Nathan Baesel as Leslie Vernon Angela Goethals as Taylor Robert Englund as Doc Halloran Kate Lang Johnson as Kelly Ben Pace as Doug Britain Spellings as Todd Scott Wilson as Eugene Bridgett Newton as Jamie
Release Date
2006
Language(s)
English
Running Time
92 minutes
The movie opens in typical slasher style – a POV shot of a teenager, Kelly, as she’s putting the garbage out. She feels someone looking at her before hearing the door behind her slam. She runs away, at which point the aspect ratio changes from a cinematic shot to one that you’d see on an old school television. The movie has transitioned from slasher movie to a TV news report as Taylor, the program’s host, narrates the terrors that slasher villain’s have wreaked on small towns all across America. She mentions the antagonists we all know and love – Jason Voorhees, Freddy Kreuger, and Michael Myers- before revealing that her crew and her are here to interview a new and upcoming serial killer who hopes to live up to the legends. His name is Leslie Vernon.
Taylor (Angela Goethals) standing in front of Leslie’s house, preparing for her interview with the serial killer hopeful.
The crew comprised of Taylor and her two cameramen, Doug and Todd, seek to understand Leslie’s methods – how will he do what he plans and what motivates him to commit such heinous acts. However, their first encounter with the titular antagonist is surprisingly comedic. Leslie doesn’t come out all twisted and ready to kill. Instead, he’s cordial and jovial, constantly joking around with the crew as he goes around and explains his training regimen and planned deed. The casual way he describes the way his family and himself were brutally murdered in the past (origin story) to the nonchalant way he shows the crew how to isolate a perfect group of teen victims, comprised of some virile go-getters (sexually promiscuous teens), slow movers (body count fodder), and a virgin survivor girl (final girl) induce a strange normalcy that lulls the crew and the audience with them into becoming comfortable with the whole display. He explains that his next target is the girl from the start, Kelly, and her friends. His hope is upon completing the massacre of the group, he’ll achieve a legendary status akin to his heroes.
Most of the movie follows this inverse slasher format. Leslie is interviewed in an almost talk show like format, sitting across from Taylor and answering questions about his occupation as though it’s akin to any other. Like any enthused film analyst, he eagerly reveals the tropes of the genre – red herrings, AHABs (think people like Captain Ahab from Moby Dick ), and the like- while also spending time delving into the Yonic and Phallic subtext behind a lot of the typical slasher set pieces – weapons being penis-shaped on purpose or closets representing a place of innocence due to their closeness to a Mother’s womb.
Taylor (Angela Goethals) interviewing Leslie (Nathan Baesel) as if they’re talking about an everyday matter on a TV talk show when in fact they’re discussing how the latter’s murderous intentions and ideas.
Given that Taylor and her crew are documenting his rise, the camera also switches from these documentary like explanations to a cinematic slasher style like the beginning shot taking the lessons Leslie has given the crew and us and demonstrating them to full effect. In many ways, the movie operates like a slasher dialect by breaking down each and every element and convention of the genre, having Leslie give a thematic explanation of the same, getting some pushback from Taylor and crew, and then bringing it all together in an actual demonstration of everything and bringing the process to a full circle. It’s clever, informative, and most importantly elevates the movie to a true horror comedy, not sacrificing horror for comedy or vice versa. They both feed into one another.
The first image shows Todd zooming in on Kelly’s (Kate Lang Johnson) “assets” in documentary fashion. His sexual focus is a direct reference to the way slasher movies play up the sexual proclivities of their characters, giving the audience a buffet of sexual images along with their violence. The immediate transition from documentary style to the enactment of the violence scheme in the second image, which shows Leslie (Nathan Baesel) getting ready to kill a librarian (Zelda Rubinstein ), showcasing the movies ability to flip from inquisition to action at a moments notice.
That’s the true genius of Behind the Mask – it never forgets that it’s trying to be scary. Setting up its plot in such a way helps gets the audience to identify with the camera crew while being on the side of Leslie. How can such a gregarious fellow be heinous? Even as he explains with his serial killer mentor, Eugene (Billy from Black Christmas) , that his role is to serve as a cultural evil in a fight against an eternal good, thereby making it crystal clear that he’s nefarious , we don’t believe it. Even when the movie reminds us of what a danger he is with the slasher type scenes where he brutally butchers innocent people after discussing their deaths’ purpose in relation to his master plan, we’re desensitized to it. The inversion of the slasher formula, having the villain be the protagonist , reveals the gambit the movie is going for – informing us of the level of evil we make ourselves complicit in to get entertainment. As if to drive this point home, as the murders get more intense Leslie slowly reveals just how menacing he really is, as his niceties with the crew peel away whenever they get too close to messing with his intricately laid out plain. Since Scream, no movie has so brazenly told the audience the rules of the horror world its characters inhabit, actively follow those rules to tremendous effect, and then reveal that everything its been telling you should have been taken more seriously. The only difference being Behind the Mask raises the stakes by directly placing us face to face with evil incarnate. It’s a gamble that could have failed spectacularly, but because of the level of commitment put in to create an immersive world and the clever pacing to keep the audience captivated, it pays off.
The reason this duplicity works despite being in plain sight is due to the actors and their respective abilities to flip the script at a moment’s notice. Baesel somehow channels both a warm friendship that makes him feel more similar to a buddy character from a sitcom while easily being able to transition to a psycho killer as though each personality fits into the other. There’s no incongruities at all. Never once did I think a flip was too sudden or out of place. He’s funny, charming, terrifying, and enigmatic all at the same time. Goethals is the perfect counterbalance to Baesel and plays naturally off him in every scene. As the reporter in charge of the strange project, she has the difficult job of both balancing a professional outlook to the subject matter while being unequally unnerved by it. Her ability to emote with gestures and facial reactions conveys the ambiguity she feels about what she’s doing. For example, when her character meets Eugene she goes from inquisitive to terrified and back all within a few moments. Not a beat is missed in conveying the discordant emotions. The natural progression of her relationship with Baesel feels authentic and gives the movie a genuine emotional touch that it has no right having. It makes the way the third act play out something to behold.
Now is the movie perfect? No. There are some slight logistical issues – like how a news team would even get in touch with someone who claims to be the next coming of Krueger or Myers, especially with no backup or protection. It’s a detail that the movie brushes off thematically, but it’s narrative implications become more odd as the story progresses . It never threatens to derail the story, but does stick out given how tightly knit the rest of the movies worldbuilding seems to be. My second issue has more to do with the framing behind the more traditional slasher scenes . Given how in- depth the subtextual and trope analysis is done earlier in the film, I expected a visual panache that would match it. I was expecting stylized kill-scenes a la Halloween or A Nightmare on Elm Street, but instead got something that feels basic compared to the intricacy of everything that came before it. That’s not to say the visual style isn’t impressive – the camera switching from a documentary style to a cinematic style definitely showcases how lighting and proper contrast turn a normal scene into something scary- rather, it just feels like a missed opportunity the movie could have gone for to really hit a homerun. I’m grateful that at the very least there’s no awful shaky cam or obfuscation of the kill scenes – everything is clearly on display- I just wanted more.
That being said, Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon is definitely a movie that earns its stripes. Very rarely do horror comedies so deftly weave both the terrifying and comedic elements so well, and the way the movie navigates between both modes through its mockumentary to cinematic story approach is refreshing and gives the movie a unique identity in a sea of horror deconstruction movies. Not since Scream has there been this much creativity in breaking down and executing horror, and if that’s not high praise I don’t know what is. The way the movie moves through a dialect- segmenting elements of the genre, explaining them, going through a discussion of them, and demonstrating them in their full form- makes it required watching for any slasher fan.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon is the rare breed of movie that manages to elicit laughter at the same as time as it sends shivers down your spine The mockumentary style feature on an up-and-coming serial killer, Leslie Vernon, feels like fun and games as he casually discusses his murderous plans all while explaining slasher tropes, themes, and metaphoric imagery. However, it quickly becomes serious as the documentary style shooting is traded for a more cinematic traditional slasher style that puts Leslie’s explanations to good use. The inversion of the slasher formula along with the movie’s clever and well planned out documentary/cinematic shuffle helps to deliver a movie that genre fans should not miss out on.
Rating
9.6/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Dana Kimmell as Chris Richard Brooker as Jason Voorhees Catherine Parks as Vera Larry Zerner as Shelly Paul Kratka as Rick Tracie Savage as Debbie Jeffrey Rogers as Andy David Katims as Chuck Rachel Howard as Chili Nick Savage as Ali
Release Date
1982
Language(s)
English
Running Time
95 minutes
Part 3 of the Friday the 13th franchise is my favorite one. I think it has the scariest interpretation of Jason (and I’m not just talking about the introduction of his iconic mask), some great and well-executed false scares, and one of the best non-Jason related bits in the franchise coming through in the form of a biker gang. Not all the parts work together as well as you’d want and the focus on making pivotal scenes in 3D really hurts the non-3D watching experience. However, none of those aspects can stop this third entry from being a whole lot of goofy fun.
The story picks a day after the end of Part 2 and follows Jason for a short bit as he looks for clothes and new victims to murder. After showing Jason making quick work of a local couple, the movie cuts to Chris and her group of friends as they travel down to Chris’s lake house by the infamous Crystal Lake. The story, like the previous installments of the franchise, follows our motley group of youngsters as they slowly get offed by Jason before his inevitable confrontation with the final girl. However, the path the movie takes to its foregone conclusion is what sets it apart and keeps it intriguing, especially when compared with the previous two installments.
It’s made apparent early on that Chris has experienced some trauma at Crystal Lake before the events of the story. It’s obvious this has something to do with Jason and the development of the two characters history and relation to each other makes sections in the third act feel like unique as opposed to re-heated slasher fare. Chris’s struggle to survive is tied into her character arc so you feel invested watching her try to outwit Jason to the very end. This struggle is made more interesting by the story’s decision to give Jason some actual character definition. No longer is he just a hulking mass set to kill. Okay he is most of the time, but with Chris his previously just violent actions take on a far more sinister undercurrent. This is probably the only Friday movie that’s made me dislike Jason as an evil and reprehensible character.
This is also one of the only movies in the franchise to have interesting side characters in the form of Vera and Shelly, and their interactions keep the movie intriguing even when Jason isn’t brutalizing someone. Shelly is a “nice guy”/incel type loner who feels alienated and takes on the role of group prankster to keep attention on him. When he’s introduced to Vera as her blind date for the camp trip, she quickly vetoes. Normally you’d expect that to be the end of that, but the story takes time to situate the two characters in relation to each other. One of the best moments in the movie comes from the pair trying to navigate their way around an angry biker gang because it gives the characters room to grow and learn more about one another. My only issue is that the story spends all this time developing the characters and generating intrigue to spend it all on a nice kill scene. It’s a definite waste of potential and makes me wonder if something more was planned with them that fizzled out.
This is a slasher that loves to fake out the audience with its scare set-ups. Normally, something like that would get on my nerves, but the movie makes it obvious from the start that it’s’ going to be playing this game with the audience. Shelly starts the movie playing “scary” pranks on the other characters and sets the expectation that everything isn’t what it really seems.As the story progresses the set-ups leading to the false scares and subsequent real scares get more in-depth leading to some genuinely great kill sequences. Unfortunately, the heavy use of 3D technology takes away the “oomph” of some of the better set-up kill sequences.
Abel (David Wiley) holding up an eyeball. Bet this would’ve looked better in actual 3D. Instead it just feels awkward.
This isn’t because the 3D is inherently bad or anything, but rather because lot of these shots were composed to highlight and show-off the technology. Without it, these same scenes lose a lot what of they seem to be going for.
I can only hope for the day where 3D technology is more ubiquitous so I can experience this movie in its fully glory, but as it stands right now a lot of the scenes its utilized in come off corny or forced. In fact, this is a criticism I think a lot of people can levy against the movie in general- it’s corny and forced. A lot of the dialogue leaves something to be desired. Performances, while not outright bad, are certainly nothing to write home about. Certain sub-plots come out of or go nowhere – a biker gang making an impromptu rendezvous in the story certainly feels like it could’ve been used for more effect. The already messy Friday timeline becomes even more convoluted and will have you asking what Jason’s game really is. However, despite all these issues and missed opportunities there’s a real fun and heart present. I laughed out loud more than one times both at the movies jokes and the absurdities it presented. I ended up grooving and wanting to dance to the new electric rendition of the classic theme song. I felt myself care about the main character and wanting her to win against a Jason I came to genuinely dislike. I can see why other fans of the franchise may not enjoy this movie, but for me it’s the one I put in whenever I want to have a fun Friday the 13th time.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Friday the 13th Part Three doesn’t radically change up the franchise formula, but that doesn’t stop it from being a good bit of fun. There are fun kill sequences, interesting scare fake-outs, a groovy main theme, and of course the introduction of Jason’s iconic mask. The 3D elements of the movie don’t hold up as well in a 2D environment (have yet to see the movie in 3D), but I appreciate the effort that went into trying to utilize the technology to create more gripping and attentive kill scenes. If you’re looking for a more menacing Jason and something a bit different than parts I and II, I think you should give this chapter a go ahead.
Rating
7.4/10
Grade
C
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
NOTE: This review contains partial spoilersfor Psycho.
An insert shot of the radio. The woman turns off the radio. A canted shot of the woman undressing. Ancient Weird Religious Rites.The woman gets into the bathtub. Fuad (Mal Arnold) stabs her. Fuad (Mal Arnold) stares at the gore on his knife. The woman lays bloodied and dead in the tub. Fuad continues to rapidly stab at her. The opening evokes the (in)famous shower murder from Psycho but plays it completely different. The editing is haphazard, the score is primitive, and the colors of the space are confusing. All of these tactics force us to focus on the blood and gore as opposed to narrative logic.
The film opens with a primitive drumming that generates a sense of foreboding. A young woman enters her apartment and turns on a radio. An insert shot of the radio imbues it with a sense of agency as an announcement about a murder plays; women are being warned to stay at home after dark due to the presence of an unhinged killer. The score accentuates this proclamation and consequently becomes more unnerving.
However, the young woman listening doesn’t care for this warning and turns off the radio. She gets ready for a bath and begins to strip; a canted shot of her undressing plays on our anxieties and makes the death from the announcement a foregone conclusion. She is marked for death.
Before she gets into the bathtub to meet her fate, the films cuts to a book titled: “Ancient Weird Religious Rites.” This second insert shot ties the book and radio together and grants a context to the aforementioned serial murders: they are part and parcel of some kind of ritual. Yet, the two highlighted items – a modern radio with a serious warning about a current crisis and an esoteric book focused on discovering the past – introduce a discordant feeling. If an agent is being hinted it through shots of these items, it’s certainly one that’s out of joint.
Then, a scream. The music cuts out for a moment and the young woman is stabbed by an intruder. A strange organ-based score replaces the previous drum-based music as the perpetrator of the attack, Fuad Ramses (Mal Arnold), proceeds to repeatedly stab his unsuspecting victim in brutalizing fashion.
The film cuts from the victim back to Fuad and back again; she’s surrounded by a green-tiled background while he’s encompassed by a wall painted in yellow. The juxtaposition in color adds to the disharmonious feeling up to now as the two colors seem to bear no connection to one another and introduce an incongruity within the shared space of the bathroom; these sides feel like they belong to different spaces, a feeling accentuated by the lack of a master shot by which to make sense of the room’s geography.
Finally, the violent attack ceases. The camera takes perverse pleasure in poring over the ensuing carnage, showcasing the bright-red gore against the distinctive backdrops of the space; this sign of violence is what connects the sides of the room together – bloodshed is what unites the otherwise disjointed space into a cohesive whole.
A face on a pyramid. The title card bleeds onto the screen. Police headquarters. Pete (William Kerwin) and the police chief (Scott H. Hall) bemoan the murders. The past and present meet as we cut from the murder scene, to a pyramid, and then back to a police office. The focus is still on the blood which pours out of the title card.
The gore fades to black, the drum-based score comes back into play, and a face on a pyramid dominates the frame; the past intrudes into the modern setting. The title appears on the screen as a splatter as the blood begins to pour of the letters and overwhelm the boundaries it’s meant to demarcate; the score becomes accentuated by a tubular instrumental matching this visual excess.
Then, the pyramid fades to black again and we cut to a plain textual display, dark blue letters against a plain brown background marking a police office – a sharp contrast to the mystique of the font, color, and setting of the title sequence. We’ve returned to the present once again.
Inside the room, Detective Pete (William Kerwin) and the police Chief (Scott H. Hall) express fear at the number of killings, the inexplicable removal of body parts from the victims, and the fact that no evidence has been pointing to any subjects. The most recent murder, that depicted in the opening, has only compounded their worries. Frustrated and left with no other options, the two resign themselves to playing more radio warnings.
A sign for Fuad’s catering service. Fuad (Mal Arnold) leans into Mrs. Fremont’s (Lyn Bolton) space. Fuad (Mal Arnold) stares at Mrs. Fremont. A closeup of Fuad’s (Mal Arnold) gaze. Fuad (re)enters the film again, this time as a caterer, and hypnotizes a client into giving him the final piece to his puzzle; his Egyptian feast, our blood feast, has an ending in sight.
Then, the organ music comes back into the fray and the film cuts to a sign for “Fuad Ramses Exotic Catering”, a display utilizing a distinctive font similar to the one used in the title credits; we know that the police’s warning is doomed to failure. Try as they might, the killer has now entered the scene once again.
He performs his “cover” job as a caterer and tends to a checkout counter. A woman dressed in fancy garb, Mrs. Fremont (Lyn Bolton), approaches him and hires him to cater a dinner for her daughter, Suzette (Connie Mason); she’s interested in something eccentric to make the night special. Her manner of speech is direct and her mannerisms are exaggerated in a bourgeoise fashion. There’s something unreal about the way she approaches the encounter.
This feeling is amplified when Fuad responds by fully leaning his body into the frame, staring at her without daring to blink. He offers to cook an Egyptian Feast, the likes of which the ancient pharaohs performed over 5000 years ago. The camera cuts to a close-up of his intense gaze as a droning noise begins to play; it feels like a spell is being cast. The relationship between the two changes: it’s not her hiring him as much as he’s hiring her.
Mrs. Fremont’s mannerisms change and she acts as if in a trance before accepting the offer; once she does, the moment breaks and she returns to her previous manner of acting. The magic subsides and the transaction is complete.
Fuad (Mal Arnold) limps through his store. Fuad (Mal Arnold) gets to a secret door. Fuad (Mal Arnold) enters a blood-red room. Fuad (Mal Arnold) exalts Ishtar. Fuad limps towards a secret room, building up a sense of curiosity. He enters and we come to understand that he means to revive the Goddess Ishtar through his gory sacrifice.
Alone again, Fuad slowly limps towards a door in the back of the building. The amount of time spent chronicling this movement serves no purpose and serves as a strange form of punctuation, merely elongating the distance between the events before and after it. But this moment is also marked by the drum score from earlier, granting it an importance that it doesn’t seem to warrant.
This traversal finally ends when he makes it to a hidden room draped with red curtains, the color of blood. He walks towards a figure in the far corner of the room while the camera pans and tracks him; this figure is Ishtar, the Goddess that Fuad plans to do the feast for. As he exalts her and swears his allegiance to her cause, the camera cuts to a close-up of the statue’s face; it’s here where the film’s use of close-ups and insert shots merge as the focus on the statue’s visage makes it apparent that this is the magical agency that’s been operating unseen in the film up to now; Faud’s ritual has been working and the subject of the statue is closer to resurrection. With Mrs. Fremont’s request, the ritualistic endgame is in sight.
Thus, at a surface level, director Herschell Gordon Lewis’s (in)famous Blood Feast seems to position itself as a low-budget, exploitative attempt meant to take advantage of the “demise of many state censor boards” to deliver a blood-soaked experience. The performances are odd, the score is “tuneless” and” experimental”, the plot is seemingly inane, and the budget seems to have gone mostly to the gore effects which the camera seems to care most about [1]Mendik, X., Schneider, S. J., Kaufman, L., & Mendik, X. (2002). Chapter 16: ‘Gouts of Blood’: The Colorful Underground Universe of Herschell Gordon Lewis . In Underground U.S.A.: … Continue reading. Yet, these oddities and the manner in which they’re executed transform this “slasher” film into an “ur-text” that’s remained pivotal in defining contemporary horror cinema [2] Brottman, M. (1996). “There never was a party like this. . . !” Blood feast and the Primal Act of cannibalism. Continuum, 9(1), 25–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/10304319609365689.
While the “appointed ancestor of the slasher film is Hitchcock’s Psycho”, a seminal piece of work whose subversion of narrative conventions and utilization of subtle, impressionistic cinematic techniques in generating unease continues to part and parcel of the golden standard by which films, not just horror, are evaluated, Blood Feast‘s introduces a visceral element that remains just at vital at exploring taboo and the costs of violating the same. The film’s focus on gore leaves little room for the imagination and lets us see the “opened body”; a taboo has been violated as the “visible” and “knowable” are literally opened up to reveal the unseen insides. [3] Clover, C. J. (2015). Chapter 1: Her Body, Himself. In Men, women, and chain saws: Gender in the modern horror film. essay, Princeton University Press.
Yet, these obscene displays of violence aren’t meant to scare us as much as allowing us to fully engage with and enjoy the spectacle. Unlike Hitchcock who located “thrill in the equation victim=audience” and consequently shot the most violence scene of the film, the iconic shower murder, as an impression of the knife “slashing” the film itself in an attempt to rupture the viewer’s body,[4] Ibid Lewis treats us as participants in the violence and invites us to participate in the macabre ceremony. Opposed to the victim, we’re aligned with Fuad as perpetrator; we want to consume a “blood feast”.
This dichotomy in the two film’s approaches to violence is made explicit in the way they handle the same situation: a shower murder. While Psycho’s scene is absolutely iconic, a pinnacle in dread and tension, it’s effect is achieved through “virtuoso editing and a sprinkling of chocolate syrup.”[5]Skal, D. J. (2001). Chapter Eleven: Scar Wars. In The monster show: A cultural history of horror. essay, Faber and Faber. The realism of the narrative allows Hitchcock to impress upon the audience the impact of the violence without ever showing too much; he doesn’t even need to use red gore effects to convey the impact.
However, the same scene in this film operates almost in an inverted fashion; the film juxtaposes distinctive aural choices and strange color decisions to immediately throw the viewer off and makes the situation oneiric; there’s nothing to latch onto. The shock comes from the haphazard fashion in which the violence “appears” and takes control of the frame. Bucket of red gore and blood are what we end up taking away from the scene.
Lewis employs several such oddities throughout the film to distance us from the severity of the kills such as to let us partake in the violence without feeling alienated by it. The caricature like acting makes it hard to relate to the characters; thus, we can’t be bothered by the brutal executions and don’t feel put off by our identification with Fuad’s position as gore purveyor. The absurd editing – both within and between scenes – propels the narrative forward towards the next fleshy display with little semblance of logic or coherent momentum. There’s no concern with how Fuad gets to each murder scene, commits the murder without difficulty, and gets out of said scenes scot-free with no real planning even during moments when other characters should definitely notice him or find a meaningful clue to his identity. The narrative even goes so far as to utilize supernatural trappings like Fuad’s apparent magical skills and the presence of Ishtar an agent in her own right to further to disrupt the reality of the narrative. The only real constant throughout the film is the gore effects which are bright, red, and take control of the frame; we’re allowed to fully attune ourselves to them.
While the technical implementation of these “distancing” techniques may potentially distract viewers unable to get past the crude presentation, the telos they aspire to remains an important influence to the genre; Psycho may be more influential and an infinitely more compelling film, but Blood Feasts contributions still reverberate just as strongly as the former’s. In fact, I’d argue that a good portion of horrors, especially in the slasher and splatter sub-genres, take varying levels of influence from both of these archetypal films in their construction. For example, films like Halloween leans more into Psycho’s taut narrative construction and utilization of mood to generate tension along with a light amount of gore to sell the impact, but films like Friday the 13th treat plot as a tool to get the next gore-based, logic be damned, in the manner of Blood Feast. . Thus, while the film may be sloppy and fail to remain compelling through its entirety, its heart and sheer dedication carry it through and make it worth studying; its mistakes give it a texture that proper construction would be unable to engender. Horror fans who enjoy the visual grossness that comes with the genre owe the film a sincere watch.
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TLDR
Extreme and audacious for its time, Blood Feast may stumble getting where it’s going, but the gory odyssey it promises is well worth it and its influence can be felt in the genre to this day. By embracing its many faults, some of which may be too distracting for viewers demanding a “polished” product, it manages to get the audience to anticipate and cheer instead of fear the next bit of carnage candy in this all-you-can eat blood buffet.
Rating
6.4/10
Grade
C
Go to Page 2for the for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis. Go to Page 3to view this review’s progress report .
Amy Steel as Ginny John Furey as Paul Adrienne King as Alice Steve Daskewisz as Jason
Release Date
1981
Language(s)
English
Running Time
87 minutes
Friday the 13th Part Two is one of the few horror sequels that manages to take what was interesting and effective in the first movie and add to it substantially.The story is better paced than the originals with kills being effectively spread throughout the movie to keep the tension and excitement more constant. Characters are given time to develop and become people who you can root for. Jason is actually the villain (even if not adorned with his iconic hockey mask) and adds a certain level of brutality to the kills that was missing before. This is a sequel that has everything a fan of the original could want and more.
The movie opens up with a quick recap of the end of first movie which is then revealed to be nightmare Alice is having/reliving as a result of her trauma . Within a few moments she’s unceremoniously killed by Jason with a cut to the title card. Normally the death of a previous final girl in such a mean spirited fashion (coughs in Halloween 5) gets me upset , but Alice was such a non factor in the first movie (one of my major criticisms) that it almost feels nice knowing that we’re getting someone new. After the title card, the story picks up 5 years with the reopening of a camp on the shores of Crystal Lake. Cue title card.
The first thing the story does that’s a marked improvement over its predecessor is clearly establishing a crew of characters with identifiable traits. Paul, the camp owner, is a well-mannered guy trying to do good for his students and those that they’ll interact with. Ginny (our final girl), his girlfriend, is a fun loving, witty, child psychology student. When the final act starts and and her back is pushed against the wall, you really appreciate how well her characters strengths are set up earlier. She’s resourceful and tenacious in a way that places you squarely in her corner. The main set of campers that are set to be slaughtered by Jason are, for the most part, likable and fleshed out just the right amount. Performances feel genuine and the staffers feels like young adults just messing around with one another. Characters get to interact with each other over elongated periods giving the audience a reason to care about their ultimate fates.
Likewise, there’s some thought given to developing Jason. He’s not just some hulking monster in the woods waiting to kill nubiles. His actions feel purposeful and the way the film subtly (and not so subtly in one particular scene) builds up his psychology and way of life raises a lot of interesting questions. Unfortunately, not all of those questions get answers that feel acceptable, the biggest being how Jason is alive despite being “dying” decades previously. The whole driving force behind Pamela’s murder spree in the first movie is her belief that Jason had died because of negligent camp counselors. If he hadn’t actually died, then that means he was just living out in the forest relaxing. If this was the case, then why didn’t he act to help his mom when she was struggling? The film would like to have you believe he witnessed her death and took revenge; that’s what the opening sequence with Alice was supposed to indicate. It’s just that that requires uprooting the basis of the whole story or coming up with a convoluted headcanon to explain what’s going on. This is a problem that’s endemic with the franchise. It rarely knows what it wants in the moment, so there are a lot of retcons/oddities in the plot that make otherwise interesting moments confusing. That being said, I think the good outweighs the bad and got over the issue on my third play-through.
Now one thing that the first installment got right was the kill scenes due to the practical effects magic of Tom Savini. Despite not being able to get him on the second movie, the kills and their respective brutality are still on display (even if they don’t reach the same consistent heights). In fact, one of my favorite kills in the franchise happens early on and it might be one of the most mean spirited slasher kills I’ve ever seen. It’s just brutal and demonstrates (as if we even needed it) that Jason has absolutely no qualms with who he murders.
Unfortunately even though the movie makes huge strides in improving and refining the slasher formula , there’s more than one oddball moment that feels out of place with the realism and sense of urgency that’s being set up. For example, there’s a moment where a group of characters makes a gruesome discovery only to be stopped in the act. However, the spectacle they came upon is never mentioned by anyone else despite its potential importance in saving future characters lives. There’s another moment where Jason comes upon a character and they literally just stand there waiting to die. While there aren’t a lot of weird moments like these, they definitely stick out like sore thumbs and make the movie feel more uneven.
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TLDR
Friday the 13th Part Two is a rare sequel that fixes its predecessors mistakes while building on the aspects of it that fans love. Sure there are some oddball moments that feel out of place with the more grounded and realistic setting the movie tries to go for. Thankfully, none of these moments derail the movie when it’s at its best – delving into the psychology of its killer and providing tense and effective kill sequences.
Rating
8.5/10
Grade
B+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Jaime Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode Donald Pleasence as Dr.Sam Loomis Dick Warlock as Michael Myers
Release Date
1981
Language(s)
English
Running Time
92 minutes
Halloween II picks up immediately after the end of Halloween with Laurie being transferred to a hospital following her near fatal encounter with Michael. Unfortunately for her he’s not only alive but he’s also looking to finish what he started by taking her out of the picture. What follows is a Halloween skinned Friday the 13th style slasher that’s packed to the brim with spectacular kills and a score that’s as iconic as the originals.
I’ll be honest. I think that Halloween II introduces a plot point/reveal that the mainline Halloween franchise has never been able to satisfyingly deal with. It’s the core behind Michael’s motivation and deflates a lot of the ambiguity that makes him so frightening in the first movie. As a result everything from the first movie feels off. Myers goes from “the Shape” to a person with human desires. The issue is the movie then tries to reconcile that with his general supernatural and distant characterization and it comes off as confusing. Furthermore, the way the reveal happens is so cheap and tacked on that the entire movie feels like it could have happened without this scene’s inclusion. It feels lazy and out of place, which is made all the worse because it is literally the driving force behind the story.
Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I can absolutely say this movie is entertaining if you can look past this plot point. The kills are creative and the set-ups are well worth watching. There’s one scene in particular where a nurse thinks Michael is her lover, whom she doesn’t realize has already been killed off. Watching the scene play out demonstrates the fundamental identity issue with the movie. The scene is terrifying because you know what’s going to happen and the nurse’s manner of death is particularly dreadful to imagine. However, the drawn out almost comical nature of it feels counter to how decisive and no-nonsense he feels in the first part. It’s not like all the kill scenes are like this. In fact, Rosenthal has more than his fair share of voyeuristic camera kills like Carpenter had made all the more interesting by the long white hallways of the hospital. It’s just that when a kill happens that doesn’t fit in the with that general current you can feel how out of place it is. If you’re just looking for a slasher with innovative and entertaining kills, this movie has them in spades and I can see why so many fans of the franchise have a fondness for this movie.
The score is also noteworthy for being nearly as entertaining as the original’s, which I think is one of the most immersive scores in horror cinema. Carpenter’s new rendition of the iconic theme is similar enough to evoke the feelings of nostalgia but feels new and energetic. Granted, I love synth music but I also think the score perfectly captures what the movie wanted to do in hearkening back to the original while being it’s own thing. I love how the usually sweet and soothing “Mr. Sandman”by The Chordettes is utilized in the movie. It comes off as sinister and unnerving in context which I think is testament to how well Rosenthal nails atmosphere. The first time I heard it play while watching I thought it was coming from somewhere else because of how odd its selection felt in such a movie. However, if you ask me now, I can’t imagine the movie without the song.
The one aspect of the movie that I genuinely enjoyed and think was pulled off well throughout the movie is the fear of the holiday of Halloween. The idea that it’s a holiday filled with fear and repression is exemplified through multiple different actions that are only tangentially related. Near the beginning of the movie a child is in the Emergency Room and we get a glimpse of his bloodied mouth. It hearkens back to rumors of razors in candy-bars and the fear that our own neighbors could harm our children. Moments like these add a much needed texture to the movie that place the central conflict within the schema of traditional Halloween scares and fears. It doesn’t elevate the movie up to where Halloween is, but it certainly gives the movie a more distinctive identity than just die fodder die.
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TLDR
I have a love hate relationship with this movie. On the one hand I love that it feels and plays like a continuation of Halloween . You could literally play this as soon as the first movie ended and it would feel like one fully encompassing piece. The similarity is so uncanny that fan-cuts mixing the two movies feel seamless without close inspection. Unfortunately, this latter half of the two-parter undoes a lot of what made the original so frightening and interesting, settling instead for a Friday the 13th style slaughter fest with a hackneyed plot that serve as the story’s main driver. It’s an entertaining gore-fest but feels less elevated in its themes and atmosphere.
Rating
8.0/10
Grade
B
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Jaime Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode James Jude Courtney as Michael Myers/The Shape Judy Greer as Karen Andi Matichak as Allyson Nelson Haluk Bilginer as Dr. Sartain
Release Date
2018
Language(s)
English
Running Time
106 minutes
Michael (James Jude Courtney) stands chained up. Michael (James Jude Courtney) stays with his back turned to Aaron(Jefferson Hall), Dana (Rhian Rees), Dr. Sartain (Haluk Bilginer) Aaron (Jefferson Hall) tries to elicit a response from Michael with the latter’s iconic mask. Michael (James Jude Courtney) is “woken” by the mask but exhibits no overt changes in behavior. The film starts on a provocation. Journalists want to investigate Michael and see what makes him tick, but he refuses to give them even an inch.
The film opens in a psychiatric hospital. A psychiatrist working at the institution, Dr. Sartain (Haluk Bilginer) escorts two true crime reporters, Aaron (Jefferson Hall) and Dana (Rhian Rees), for an interview with the subject of their latest investigation, Michael Myers (James Jude Courtney), before he’s transferred to a more maximum-security prison. The duo approaches the serial killer, but Michael doesn’t budge; he stays with his back turned to them. But he’s very much aware of their presence as evidenced by a “reverse” over-the-shoulder shot.
Frustrated with the lack of discernible response, Aaron steps forward and taunts Michael with the latter’s iconic mask, hoping that the provocation will elicit a response. But the response comes from the other patients around Michael who start to panic and become disturbed due to the sight of the mask; the lingering presence of evil is palpable. The cries of the patients interrupt and disorient Aaron’s attempted interview but he persists, desperately asking Michael to say anything.
Title card. The jack-o-lantern is crushed. The jack-o-lantern starts to rebuild itself. The jack-o-lantern lights up and is fixed again. The title sequence references the original movie and makes the viewer aware that this sequel is about Michael’s rebirth; far from being crushed, the specter of Halloween is back for more carnage.
Suddenly, the title card drops and the iconic Halloween theme starts to play; Michael doesn’t need to speak when the music does it for him. The intro sequence pays homage to the original film’s opening. In the 1978 classic, the camera slowly pushes into a jack-o-lantern, becoming the “point-of-view” of Halloween itself. In the 2018 sequel, the camera pushes in on a broken and beaten jack-o-lantern which recovers back into its original form – a rebirth. If the original signified the birth of Michael, then this narrative is about the resurrection of the Boogeyman.
Aaron and Dana leave Michael and head towards Laurie (Jaime Lee Curtis); if the killer won’t talk, get the survivor to fill in the blanks. Aaron narrates his report on the drive over and gives us the subtext in not-so-subtle fashion. Have Michael’s actions had an impact on Laurie such that the latter has become metaphysically changed by the encounter. Has one monster made another?
Laurie’s house is gated. Lights on the top of Laurie’s house. Lights surrounding the outside of Laurie’s house. Cameras record the property.Laurie’s compound might as well be a prison with how secure the area is. Cameras, lights, and locks pervade the area and make it apparent that Laurie has learned from her encounter with Michael. Security is paramount.
The answers to these questions become murky as the reporters arrive at Laurie’s gated compound. They speak with her through a security system in order to secure an interview but receive no response until they offer to pay a fee. The gate opens and they’re allowed entry. But the inside of Laurie’s compound is even more securitized than the outside. Cameras and lights surround the outside. It’s clear that Laurie’s confrontation with Michael has radically transformed her, forcing her to live her life with a neve-ending fear of the darkness and the forces inherent to it.
Aaron and Dana mention as much in their interview with Laurie, probing into how the incident derailed her life. It’s apparent that the duo doesn’t believe in the legend of the Boogeyman and see Michael as just another serial killer waiting to be examined, a profile to be added to a personality database. They suggest that Laurie’s obsession with the myth of Michael have cost her dearly. She’s had multiple failed marriages. She lost custody of her daughter, Karen (Judy Greer), years ago and now lives estranged from any family. Instead of continuing to live her fear in deference to idea of Michael qua inexplicable evil, they suggest that she communicate with Michael and lay her grievances to rest.
But they don’t understand what Michael is or the nature of what he put Laurie through so many years ago. They don’t understand that the person known as Michael is nothing more than a moniker for a force unconstrained, an evil with no direction. Laurie knows they don’t care about such proclamations, so she end’s the interview almost as soon as it starts and sends the duo out after getting payment.
Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) looks outside and sees Michael. Michael (Nick Castle) stares at Laurie. Allyson (Andi Matichak) looks outside and sees Laurie. Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) stares at Allyson. Laurie seems to have adopted some of Michael’s mannerisms; her encounter has caused her to become a specter to her own family. Her concerns might be justified, but her actions have caused such division that she has to meet up with her granddaughter in such a roundabout fashion.
Meanwhile Laurie’s granddaughter, Allyson (Andi Matichak), asks Karen if Laurie was invited to a celebratory dinner. Karen claims that Laurie was too busy to come, but Allyson knows that Karen most likely never sent an invite out. This becomes clear when Allyson peeks out of her classroom window and notices Laurie standing outside staring back at her; this is an explicit call-back to the original Halloween where a young Laurie peeked out and saw Michael staring back at her. In spending decades preparing for Michael, it seems that Laurie has adopted some of his characteristics. Allyson calls this out when the grandmother and granddaughter reunite outside. The latter pleads with the former to give up the obsession with Michael and return to a semblance of normalcy in order to engage with the family again.
But Laurie is right and Michael proves that her concerns are more than valid when he manages to escape from the bus transporting him for his prison transfer. Now free again, the shape is more than ready to begin his nightmarish slaughter. However, this time there’s a party that’s willing and who’s trained the majority of her life for such an encounter.
The film’s set-up offers a lot of promise by building upon the original’s themes in an organic fashion. Laurie becoming jaded and militaristic after her encounter is understandable. She witnessed a person survive fatal wound upon fatal wound with no genuine injuries. She’s the only one to have an understanding of the terror he brings, so she’s focused on eliminating him and not understanding him. Opposing her are parties that attempt to domesticate Michael, either because they have trouble evaluating what he’s done in a grander or context or because they believe that his drive towards destruction contains within it some kernel of truth which can help inquiries into the psychological nature of evil. All the while, Michael kills without reason and gives no indication that he cares or remembers any of the parties desperate to control him.
If done properly, the narrative could have interweaved between all the different strands chronicling Michael and taken the question of how narratives form around evil to its most literal sense. Alas, the narrative fumbles around with its ideas in haphazard fashion, wasting much of its potential in favor of scraping the surface of the most basic themes. Part of this stems from the noted sub-text problem above; much of the story relies on characters explaining the themes and ideas as opposed to showcasing the same visually or through the sound design, so there’s a constant discord between what the films aspiring to be and what it manages to achieve.
This is an effect of the film’s misguided focus. Instead of building up its primary cast of characters and letting them get entangled naturally as the night builds up, the story gives them only the basest amount of characterization necessary to get them ready for the next story beats. Time that could have been used to flesh out the characters and make their journeys more engaging is spent on building up Michael’s soon-to-victims. These characters are little more than “cannon fodder” and do nothing but converse in “comedic” [1] Comedy is subjective, but most of the jokes between minor characters are irritating more than anything else. fashion. Cuts from the main storyline to these characters are meant to introduce a levity and get the viewer to care about the carnage to come, but the conversations between said characters are so insipid that not only do they not get the viewer to care about what’s to come but also serve as an ugly contrast with the purported severity of what the film is trying to do. It’s hard to take Michael seriously as a threat when his violence is intercut with small talk and comedic banter.
In this sense, what’s missing from the 2018 incarnation of Halloween inherent in the original is a sense of gravitas capable of transforming the on-screen violence into a nightmare that gets under the skin. Without this severity, the discussions of the film’s subtext by major characters feels even more out of place. Consequently, while the film’s depiction of Michael’s night of violence is technically satisfying, none of his murders rises past the level of momentarily shocking spectacle.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Halloween is one of the better attempted sequels to John Carpenter’s seminal 1978 classic, Halloween, but is still a far cry from the original in terms of its ability to leave an lasting mark of fear on its viewers. There’s a missing gravitas that makes this update to the slasher franchise feel lacking, but the technical competence and general respect given to the original film make this more than satisfying for fans looking for decent Halloween or slasher fare.
Rating
7.5/10
Grade
B
Go to Page 2for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Jaime Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode Donald Pleasence as Dr.Sam Loomis Nick Castle as Michael Myers Will Sandin as young Michael Myers P.J. Soles as Lynda Nancy Kyes as Annie
The title sequence to Halloween is a work of art in itself. The iconic theme song plays getting the audience uncomfortable and entranced at the same time as the camera zooms in slowly towards an eerily lit jack-o-lantern. The camera seemingly goes into the void within the pumpkin before the setting and date are revealed.
John Carpenter’s iconic Halloween theme song plays the as camera zooms in slowly on a jack-o-lantern whose inner light seems to be flickering menacingly, complimenting the unsettling music which feels like something out of one of Argento’s giallo movies. Eventually the light from the pumpkin fades and the screen blacks. The menacing theme transforms into a Halloween mantra being collectively chanted by children as on-screen text indicates the setting is Haddonfield, Illinois and the date is Halloween, 1963. The screen blacks once again before the camera seemingly moves left, out from the darkness of the title screen to a view of a typical suburban house.
The camera moves left from the darkness and opens on the Myers house.The entrance of the Myers house.Jack-o-lantern present at the front door of the Myers house.Judith Myers( Sandy Johnson) and her boyfriend (David Kyle) get amorous with each other. The latter wears a clown mask during lighter activities. Judith Myers( Sandy Johnson) and her boyfriend (David Kyle) go upstairs. Michael darts to the front of the house.Judith’s room’s light is on. As the couple gets ready to have sex the light in the room goes off. Michael enters the back of the house.Michael grabs a knife from the drawer.Michael waits for the boyfriend (David Kyle) to leave the house. Michael picks up David’s discarded mask and puts it on. The clown mask fills the frame with darkness. Michael goes towards Judith (Sandy Johnson). Michael stares at the phallic motion of the knife as he stabs Judith. Michael’s parents show up. Michael’s parents take off his mask revealing Michael’s (Will Sandin) identity as a child. The camera cranes away as if recoiling from impact of Michael’s (Will Sandin) actions.The first scene is presented as one continuous take in an attempt to give us a full run-down of Michael’s decision making process. The camera appears from the blackness of the title sequence suggesting that Michael’s point-of-view is akin to the spirit of Halloween’s point-of-view, charging him with a supernatural sense of agency. As he moves from camera to camera, it becomes apparent he’s fixated on his sister and the sexual activities she’s engaging – the extent and nature of this fasciation is unknown in spite of the fact that we’re literally in Michael’s shoes. As he realizes his sister is engaging in sex, he goes to the back of the house – his impermissible desire is granted access through unregulated passages. It’s through this entry that he gets the knife and same mask used by his sister’s partner – both parts somehow necessary for him to engage and enjoy the murder . It’s only after the prohibited act that he’s allowed to access the normal entrance to the house when he exits the front door. When the mask is removed and it’s revealed he’s a child, we recoil along with the camera at the shock that the murderer is someone who should be considered a source of innocence, not heinous brutality. It’s a shocking opening that lets the audience know the stakes of what’s to come and makes Michael’s presence one to be feared because we’re incapable of understanding him in any way.
The camera moves forward and it becomes apparent that we’re in a point of view shot – the subject of whom is yet to be revealed. We move towards the house where we see a young man and women engaging in amorous activity. As the two move around the house in their playful flirtations, the young man picks up a clown mask. All the while the subject of the camera, the point of view by which we’re experiencing the scene, darts around from window to window to keep an eye on the two before they eventually make their way to the woman’s bedroom . When the lights go off in the bedroom, the camera’s subject runs from the front of the house to the back of the house, picks up a knife, and waits for the boyfriend to leave the house before going upstairs to where the girlfriend resides. At the same time, the soundscape which had consisted of only diegetic noises – the call of birds and the sound of footsteps – gives way to another distressing Carpenter track which creates a feeling of distress – is this what the camera’s subject hears or is this music coming from elsewhere?
It’s at this point the subject’s hand reaches out to grab a clown mask on the floor putting it on over their face, thereby obscuring both their own face and the camera’s view in a shroud of darkness. From this newly adorned “vantage” point, the subject walks towards the unsuspecting victim-to-be who remains in the nude. She turns and looks at the intruder exclaiming, “Michael” before being brutally stabbed to death. The camera’s subject, Michael (Will Sandin) as we know now, takes more visual pleasure in watching the knife glide through the air, penetrating and coming out, than he does in watching the damage being done to the body. He looks at the lifeless body for a moment, as if trying to process what has happened, before going downstairs and leaving the house from the front door where two adults, make his way to him and remove his mask.
Point of view changes and the camera looks at Michael, now revealed to be a young child in a clown costume holding a bloody knife. His face seems untroubled given that he’s just murdered his sister. Horrific doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the revelation that such violence could happen in a safe environment, let alone by a child. Echoing this sentiment, the camera slowly cranes away from the scene of domestic terror both giving the audience time to process what’s happened while letting the impact of Michael’s brutality be felt visually as an inexplicable shock that can’t be contained.
In under 7 minutes, Carpenter’s masterpiece delivers not only one of the best title card sequences in cinema but also one of the greatest opening scenes. Both movements serve as thematic calling cards for the movie while blending into one another, setting the groundwork for what’s to come both at the level of Halloween and at the level of the slasher genre. A journey through the “mind” of “Halloween” as we traverse from the jack-o-lantern’s inner darkness to the point of view of Michael, tying his subjectivity with both the holiday and the force of darkness itself. The location – a suburban house- and Michael’s geographical route- going from the front of the house to the back – makes it apparent that the supposed protection of the suburbs is unable to contain deviancy which will always find a way in. The intimate relationship sex and violence that serves as the foundation for all slashers is enforced by the chronology of events – Michael’s sister has sex and is then murderdered immediately after- the phallic nature of the stabbing itself – two types of penetration- and the transference of the mask – lover turned into murderer. Finally and most importantly, from start to finish, the tension never lets up. We start uneasy because of the music and end completely shocked by the events that transpire – perfectly primed for what’s to come.
The main story picks up 15 years later in Haddonfield on Halloween once again, this time on a young woman, Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis). Unlike our introduction to Michael, our introduction to Laurie is one from a distance, from a more objective neutral position. We observe her leaving her house, talking to her father, calmly walking the streets before running into one of the neighborhood kids, Tommy Doyle (Brian Andrews). As she goes through her daily pattern we learn that she’s a down-to-earth nerdy type with a keen sense of perception and end up getting in her corner empathizing with her. However, our growing fondness of her is matched by a parallel sense of dread, as we’re shown early on that an recently escaped Michael (Nick Castle) has taken notice of her and her friends. It’s the perfect set-up.
First we see the monstrosity of the villain whose point of view is given a special privilege by being the first vantage point by which we experience the movie. It’s shot as though its one cut, meaning we get to see every detail he sees. Despite the fact that we experience his subjectivity so intimately we are unable to understand it – why does Michael kill his sister on this night in this way? Then we see the domesticity of the hero whose point of view is framed more objectively. However, we’re able to understand her reasons for action and her motivations. It’s a conundrum in comprehension as the point of view we should be more intimate with-Michael’s- is the one that escapes us, demonstrating the imperceptibility of evil and the way it escapes understanding. By tying both these character introductions in the same suburban environment, Carpenter is able to set their journeys up in parallel, as though two sides of the same coin – the normal domestic order and the sinister chaotic underbelly inherent within.
Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) lays in bed. Sherriff Brackett (Charles Cyphers) and Dr.Loomis (Donald Pleasence) investigate the old Myers residence. Our heroes are all agents associated with a normally functioning social order where peace and idyllic life is preserved. Laurie is a model student and responsible babysitter. She represents the ideal “good kid.” Meanwhile Dr. Loomis and Sheriff Brackett are representative of the medical and legislative orders respectively. The movie constantly highlights the tact and perceptiveness of its heroes to make their struggles all the more terrifying. For if our most perceptive struggle at the individual and communal levels, what hope is there for us really?
This schema becomes more nuanced with the inclusion of the movie’s deuteragonist, Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasence), who acted as Michael’s psychiatrist after the latter’s initial murder and is now obsessed with tracking him, Michael, down after his escape to prevent more violence. He spends the majority of the movie with law enforcement and can therefore be seen like Laurie, as an extension of a normal “acceptable” order. Thus the stage is set – a metaphysical battle in suburbia – between an unspeakable force of evil that can’t be controlled and the agents of “good” that desperately try to keep the peace by maintaining order. The movie reveals that the domains of safety we’ve constructed – homes, adult defenders, even institutions are unable to provide real security against evil.
Tommy (Brian Andrews) leaves Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis). Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) starts to sing to herself. Michael (Nick Castle) shows up behind Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) intruding the frame with his presence. Michael constantly takes control of frames that were free of his presence earlier acting as a force of cinematic horror. Early on, the camera lingers on Laurie and Tommy as they walk. Tommy leaves one way and Laurie proceeds to walk down the street singing to herself. However, the tranquility of the song is interrupted as Michael enters the frame from the right, reminding us that he’s the one in control and that no scene is ever “safe” from his presence.
Even the frame isn’t safe from Michael’s influence as he threatens to take control of any shot at any point. There are multiple moments in the movie where Michael appears for just a moment, usually as a kind of taunt to Laurie, before disappearing back into the background. He will only be seen when he wants. There are other moments where an objective shot of Laurie and/or her friends lingers for just a few moments longer than usual before Michael shows up in it, thereby transforming the shot into a point of view complete with the sound of his breathing invading the soundscape. Whenever any of the discordant themes play, our eyes immediately start looking at the screen alert that Michael is present. Passing cars go from everyday neighbors to a serial killer in the wait. Every bush goes from innocuous to a possible hiding spot where one will meet their demise. This anxiety over Michael’s presence is exacerbated by the way cinematographer Dean Cundey lights scenes, often times allowing only just enough light to see our victims’ faces and their immediate surroundings. When Michael eventually comes out it feels mythical, like he’s literally forming from the darkness – a callback to the transition from the title sequence to the opening which showed his point of view emerging from the blackness of the screen.
Combined with his physical appearance, it’s no wonder that Michael is so terrifying. His iconic white mask gives his presence an incomprehensibility that terrorizes by evoking the image of a human while being so radically anti-human, thereby causing an uncanny valley that’s disturbs us [1]Lay, S. (2021, April 8). Uncanny valley: why we find human-like robots and dolls so creepy. The Conversation. … Continue reading This effect is amplified because we know under the mask is a “human”, so our struggle at reconciling his existence with our ideas of normalcy is made all the more disturbing. In many ways he feels similar to the xenomorph from Alien – the corporealization of violence qua sexuality- a predator made from aspects of humanity taken to extremes . Given the introduction, we know the mask warps perspective shrouding everything in a darkness. His obsession with the mask thus cements his association as a harbinger of darkness. Thus, the movie transforms Michael into the truest form of the Boogeyman – he has the power to dominate the movie at any point, inflict violence on anyone, and is imperceptible. Transformed from a person into a force truly evil.
His presence only works because it’s positioned against the countervailing heroism of both Laurie and Dr.Loomis. From the very start Laurie demonstrates her intellectual capacity, demonstrated by the fact that only she seems aware of Michael at any point. Her perceptiveness gives her an edge up compared to her friends because she’s aware of the danger. Her wit and quick-thinking skills are utilized in ways that are intelligent, naturally line up with the plot, and don’t require some horrible exposition earlier on to set up. She’s one of the best models for the “final girl” archetype for a reason. Even in the moments where Laurie seems to be at her wits end she never loses her tenacity towards trying to solve the problem. Dr.Loomis, gives the movie a more cerebral philosophical side. As Michael’s former psychiatrist, he has a lot to say both about his former patient and the logistical problems that arise with trying to deal with genuine evil through normal social channels like the law or medicine. Pleasence manages to deliver the severity and dangers Michael poses in a way that grounds our seemingly supernatural antagonist in a very real setting. Some lines about Michael being pure evil could come off as melodramatic elsewhere, but here they feels as real and important as the everyday medical prescriptions we receive and follow. Without Pleasence’s delivery, Michael risks feeling too phantasmic and gimmicky. With his delivery, Michael becomes the Boogeyman incarnate.
Both characters are positioned as serious and resourceful. Both characters are positioned as being able to adapt to situations. Both characters are aware of Michael and what he can do. It’s precisely because the both of them are portrayed as heroes capable of saving the day that their subsequent inability to handle Michael’s reign of terror creates such a resounding sense of despair. If they can’t handle it, what hope is there for containing such evil?
It’s precisely because Halloween forces us to probe this question at every point – start to finish – that it has remained one of the greatest movies – horror or otherwise- from the date of its release. It takes the working parts of some of horrors best – the soundtrack from giallo, the camera movements from Black Christmas, the perversion from Psycho, and so on – and packs them into a tightly packed thriller that never lets up, constantly building up a palpable dread as it forces you to question how the characters will find a way out of the hellscape they find themselves trapped in. From the very start of the movie, we’re made aware of the stakes making every encounter feel unsafe. We’re left fully at the mercy of Carpenter, who relishes in teasing us with Michael’s appearance, making us almost beg for the violence to start so the tension can end. It’s no wonder then that Halloween has served as the archetype for the slasher-genre decades since inception.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Halloween is considered the best slasher for a reason and any fan of the horror genre owes it to themselves to watch the movie that pioneered/refined most of the tropes and camera techniques we’re familiar with today. The story of Michael Myers, the masked immortal Boogeyman, is timeless, violent, and genuinely frightening . From the iconic theme song to the brutality in each murder scene, it’s clear that Halloween is a cut above the rest in both presentation and execution. It’s plot might be simple, but Carpenter’s direction elevates it into a masterpiece that’s stayed scary since it first came out in 1978.
Rating
10/10
Grade
S+
Go to Page 2for the spoiler discussion and more in-depth analysis. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Lay, S. (2021, April 8). Uncanny valley: why we find human-like robots and dolls so creepy. The Conversation. https://theconversation.com/uncanny-valley-why-we-find-human-like-robots-and-dolls-so-creepy-50268.
