Halloween Ends by Jonny Numb

Halloween Ends: The Shape-shifter

This review contains SPOILERS

It’s a silly nitpick, but I don’t like the credit font in Halloween Ends. It’s pulled from Season of the Witch, that once-maligned, now-(mostly) celebrated third entry in the original series (you know, the one that had nothing to do with boring ‘ol Michael Myers). Feels like co-writer/director David Gordon Green and his creative team snickering, “we’re doing yet another homage in a reboot trilogy that was sold on the notion of moving forward with some semblance of originality! This is the third entry, too! Ain’t we stinkers!”

That said, I do like the opening-credits pumpkin gag: the orange globe slowly approaches the screen, morphing into different “faces” before finally breaking open to reveal its dark, stringy innards. Here, Green announces his thesis for this installment: the “face” of evil is a chameleon…always changing “shape,” as it were.

A brief clip from John Carpenter’s alien-assimilation classic, The Thing cements this notion during the pre-title sequence.

 

Is “Different” Enough?

Halloween Ends will piss off series purists and newcomers alike. The latter will wonder what all the fuss is about, while the former will view the narrative and character detours as counterproductive to bringing this iteration of the Myers mythos – and probably the final appearance of Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) – to a satisfying conclusion.

If Green and his three(!) credited co-writers (Paul Brad Logan, Chris Bernier, and Danny McBride) set out to rip up the book on what should constitute a Halloween sequel, they succeeded. I will say, with no small degree of guarded confidence, that Halloween Ends’ bald audacity is a rare case of millions of dollars not being flushed away on an opportunistic cash grab.

There’s simply too much going on here for it to be a mere contract-fulfilling creative dead-end. It almost succeeds on its boldness alone, and boldness is something practically unheard of in a franchise that’s been kicking around for 44 fucking years.

Therein lies the question: is doing something different enough? Halloween Ends confronts the viewer’s preconceived notions by spending most of the run time not only delaying the inevitable “Laurie vs. Michael” deathmatch, but resisting the desire to fixate this entry upon The Boogeyman proper.

Instead, Green and Company choose to redefine the parameters of what constitutes “The Boogeyman.”

 

Accepting a Challenge

From its Myers-less pretitle sequence in which dorky babysitter Corey (Rohan Campbell) causes the seemingly accidental death of a bratty rich kid (Jaxon Goldenberg), Green appears to be going for a strange homage to Gary Graver’s Trick or Treats. But as the camera ascends to Corey at the top of the stairs with a knife, we get the tip-off that he will figure prominently into the proceedings.

The temptation to dismiss this focal shift as creatively reckless will be on the tip of everyone’s tongue. That said, I like the challenge of Halloween Ends: how many of your preconceived notions can you set aside to connect with this tale, which sidelines Myers for much of the run time?

Now, before I get too far ahead of myself, I’m not giving one of those condescending, “if you don’t like it, you just didn’t get it” arguments. There’s a lot about Halloween Ends that I don’t completely understand, and there’s a lot about it that doesn’t work – or work as well as it should – so the question becomes, “does its audacity smooth over its rough edges?”

And the answer to that is: yeah. Sort of. I think so?

 

Connecting the Dots

I like how Green connects the dots to his previous entries in subtle ways. I like how seemingly throwaway bits of dialog (such as Laurie’s odd, all-knowing speech at the end of Halloween Kills) are revisited in the subsequent entries. I like the presentation of Haddonfield as a tightly knit small town where characters drift in and out of each other’s lives (observe the wonderful supermarket exchange between Laurie and Hawkins (Will Patton). This isn’t the revolving-door succession of fresh faces that populated the first-wave sequels. I also like how Michael Simmonds’ cinematography gives the action a consistent visual through-line for the duration of the trilogy, creating an aesthetic cohesion that complements the character and narrative threads.

When Corey asks Allyson (Andi Matichak) why she remains in Haddonfield, she answers: “this is where all my memories are.” And we know she means the good memories tangled within the bloody horrors wrought by Michael Myers (James Jude Courtney). Consciousness is a sticky thing wherein the passage of time influences how we interpret our memories, along with our mind’s ability to prioritize the good over the bad (and vice versa). This cements Allyson’s status as a survivor who’s risen above the oppressive cloud of history and public perception. Despite her psychological damage, she perseveres. And Matichak’s performance is one of great complexity, struggle, and hope.

Even the most baffling sequence in the film – wherein a lecherous doctor (Michael O’Leary) and a bimbo nurse (Michele Dawson) arrive at the former’s abode for a booty call – serves a purpose. As a rejuvenated Myers and a scarecrow-masked Corey descend upon the couple, it becomes a training ground for the latter to hone his kill skills on two characters who won’t be missed – by Haddonfield or by the viewer (indeed, no mention is made of them after they exit the film).

 

Legacy of Murder

There are some overwrought performances that ding the film’s dramatic credibility – as Corey’s parents, Joanne Baron and Rick Moose are hyperactive and passive caricatures, respectively. But they do show how infantilizing a grown man isn’t conducive to good mental health. And father’s fateful advice to son (“I hope you find love”) doesn’t account for the subjectivity of what “love” might entail for a psychologically damaged person.

In a way, this links up to Rob Zombie’s take on Myers: was Corey born evil, or is it a role he grew into? He goes through the trial-by-fire of being the town pariah, and is targeted by bullies (spoiled high-school band geeks, if you want to know his standing on the social ladder) before becoming a conduit for Myers’ continued legacy of murder.

Corey’s arc winds up more indebted to Dan Wells’ novel, I Am Not a Serial Killer than Halloween proper. And that’s not entirely a bad thing.

 

Getting Older

Some may ask why the focus of this entry has shifted so dramatically from the previous two, and here’s the thing: everybody’s getting older. You’re getting older. I’m getting older. Unless science and technology ramps up in the coming decades to extend human longevity at affordable rates, we’re all on a lifepath with a single shared outcome.

Laurie’s no longer the teenager she was in 1978, and Michael has aged right along with her. It’s inconceivable to expect Curtis to play this role forever.

In one of the most profound images in any Halloween film, our first glimpse of the so-called Boogeyman is of him cowering in a corner in a subterranean lair – he’s been forgotten, deprived of his “powers,” and left for dead by a community that’s moved on from the fearmongering horrors perpetuated in Halloween Kills. He’s a literal shadow of his former “shape,” suggesting that, if he is to continue his reign of destruction, he must transfer his abilities to an apt pupil.

 

The Banality of Evil

While I find the original incarnation of Michael Myers to be rather boring, I kind of get what Carpenter and Debra Hill were going for: a scenario that presents the “banality of evil.” An otherwise normal child who, one night, decides to kill his sister. No reason given. No words to explain him away. As Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasence) famously put it, “Simply and purely…evil.”

That said, I liked how Rob Zombie stuck his fingers in the character’s brain, defaulting to Michael and Laurie’s symbiotic psychosis in the underestimated Halloween II (2009). This choice annoyed many but pumped fresh blood into a stagnant character.

Green and his collaborators go for something similar with the Corey thread in Halloween Ends – in addition to being the town outcast, he becomes the closest possible surrogate for Michael’s homicidal capabilities. As a result, the old man who’s “all killed out” is given a revived purpose to cement his legacy once and for all.

But on top of that, there’s the absurdity of Corey being Myers’ match made in evil – even overpowering him to claim the coveted Shatner mask at one point. In our social media age, dorky and ostracized males make sport of blaming the world at large for their shortcomings…blame that sometimes transmutes into very real violence.

 

Magnetic Pull

The magnetic pull between Corey and Allyson makes perfect sense: both characters have inflicted damage, and are still reaping the consequences their actions have caused. The domino effect of how tragedy can reverberate through many lives over the course of years is deeply felt here.

It also tracks that Allyson once dated lunkhead Officer Mulaney (Jesse C. Boyd) – a descendent of one of the bullies at the beginning of Halloween Kills – as she seems stuck in a cycle of lovers-as-protectors. Corey presents a break in that cycle.

There’s generational pull, as well: Laurie is making peace with her actions by penning a memoir on her longstanding trauma. She finds herself at a crossroads between protecting Allyson while realizing that her own actions are rife with contradiction.

 

Thematic Resonance

Furthermore, I like how Laurie has moved on, but signifiers of the past surround her: a picture of the original Halloween babysitters hangs in the kitchen. An image of deceased daughter Karen (Judy Greer) is the lock screen on her cell phone.

As Myers is the other constant that has informed her life’s decisions, it makes sense that the lingering quality of these painful mementoes would warrant a showdown mired in mundane domesticity (making short work of that sexist phrase, “a woman’s place is in the kitchen”).

I like the thematic resonance of Allyson teaming up with Laurie to put the finishing touches on the fear that’s hardened their personalities and poisoned Haddonfield. The unification of the town in the final minutes is a 180-degree contrast from the toxic mob mentality that informed the actions of Halloween Kills: people are tired of being afraid, and want to sleep through the night once more.

Halloween Ends is not perfect; nor is it without interest. To dismiss it by saying the filmmakers didn’t have a proper endgame in mind is disingenuous: its ratio of theme and characterization may be off, but that doesn’t mean its contents aren’t worthy of deeper exploration and consideration.

3 out of 5 stars

The Plot Sickens: Jonny Numb checks out Spider One’s Allegoria!

 

Crash Analysis Support Team

Jonny Numb

Jonny Numb (aka Jonathan Weidler) only disrobes before writing a review. He co-hosts The Last Knock horror podcast and occasionally pops up on Movies Films & Flix. His writing on non-horror cinema can be found periodically at The Screening Space.    

 

 

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(Halloween Ends image from Collider.)