Scott’s Rating:
The conclusion to David Gordon Green’s nouveau Halloween trilogy is a surprising and somewhat esoteric commentary on the self-perpetuating mythos that drives so many horror franchises, to which the Halloween movies are certainly no stranger. After the resurrection of the property in 2018, I was struck by Green’s ability to synthesize a fresh perspective with a reverence to canon and was thrilled at the new dynamics this created for the characters and the world. Now, after a slightly bewildering middle chapter, I am pleased that the ship has been righted once again, albeit unexpectedly.
And real quick- it’s not that Halloween Kills is bad, exactly, but with the trilogy now complete, it certainly stands out from its companions. Playing like B-sides leftover from the previous film, its fixation on body count and gore felt like a departure from the thoughtfully crafted scenarios of its predecessor. Halloween Ends, however, is a return to form (or should I say shape?).
Abruptly jumping four years into the future, some quick voiceover tidily paints over most of the poorly drawn lines that came before; Laurie Strode and her granddaughter, Allyson, have moved on with their lives until the inevitable evil returns to plague them one more time. Curiously, though, this evil takes a more expressionistic form in the advent of misunderstood loner Corey (Rohan Campbell, a modest revelation in the role), whose checkered past and outcast status curry sympathy with both Allyson and Laurie. As our two heroines get to know this tragic kindred spirit, the series once again tackles generational trauma as well as the frailty of our own humanity. It’s the kind of exploration typically reserved for quiet indie thrillers (imagine watching Snow Angels knowing Jason Voorhees is lurking just out of frame) but applied here gives weight and purpose to the often-ridiculous rollout of genre tropes in the second half.
This new triangle of damaged goods clanging into one another plays out with insidious tension until, of course, the actual evil of Michael Myers is again unleashed, giving action to theory. But Green’s attention to the protagonist’s inner demons is an effective and engaging method of delivering on the characterizations set forth in his superior first chapter. The deeper questions that haunt Laurie and the town of Haddonfield are given more time to simmer; can one help fight the madness, or does that merely perpetuate it? How does a community rebuild trust? Does evil beget evil, or can the cycle actually be broken? How does one parse causality from guilt?
You wouldn’t expect such abstract thought experiments from a slasher movie, but then that’s what makes this the most David Gordon Green of the three chapters (and I mean this as a compliment, though perhaps not everyone would agree with me). Having proven that his strengths lie beyond vapid splatter fest mayhem, he’s wise to lean back into the nuanced and subtle performance work that underpins his directorial style. For anyone who enjoys a semblance of emotional truth in their horror, Green’s brand of blue-collar philosophizing rests nicely atop the pile of corpses. Don’t worry, there are still the requisite stabbings and kills, but they are utilized more often- and more aptly- as functions of the narrative than mere spectacle.
Furthermore, it is certainly worth taking the time to craft a better out for Jamie Lee Curtis than the dismal Halloween Resurrection (and especially after mostly riding the bench in Kills). It’s a little crazy that her time with this role has evolved from doe-eyed teen to gun-toting granny, but this iteration rings true of both the character and the venerated actor behind it. Her status as a national treasure having been secured, it is most satisfying to see her given the opportunity to part on good terms with her signature character. Her work here is lined with the kind of melancholic enlightenment one finds in a person who has given over to life’s journey but still struggles with the gravity of such a rollercoaster. Her scenes with granddaughter Andi Matichak are charged and heartfelt, her work with Rohan Campbell enigmatic and hinting at deep wells of strained aggression. It’s a clever performance that revels in the little victories Laurie has claimed along the way and finally paints her in a light we’ve always imagined but rarely seen. (And again, this was done perhaps more triumphantly in 2018, but that movie’s canonizing of Laurie’s alcoholism sends mixed messages to me.)
Ultimately, I think this trilogy made more friends than it didn’t, and there’s something to be said for that. It’s no easy task to put a bow on such an open-ended property as this. As it ages, it is not likely to ripen into best-of-the-genre territory, but I think it should be commended that at least one of these slasher franchises has finally turned in a not-embarrassing capstone to hang its hat on should they- heaven forbid– decide never to make another one. After all, the lesson presented here is in knowing exactly when enough is enough, and we could all use a little more closure in our lives.
I thought Green’s 2018 movie was a nice love letter, throwback, tribute, etc. to the original John Carpenter classic (big Carpenter fan here!). I thought it was a solid film. Had very high (too high?) hopes for Halloween Kills, which for me turned out to be a massive, colossal failure. I will watch this one soon, and I hope to find it a fitting conclusion to this latest chapter. If nothing else, I can enjoy Carpenter’s music!
It’s funny, I’m also a huge Carpenter fan, but the “Halloween” films never quite grabbed me. I was always more partial to “The Fog” or “Escape from New York.” But reading Scott’s review, I may check out this new Green take on the franchise. The original film had a pure, simple premise that was hard to replicate.