Halloween ends

Halloween Ends is a difficult film to unpack. Back in 2018, David Gordon Green launched an all-new Halloween trilogy that came with a hook that was easy for fans to rally behind - a direct continuation of John Carpenter’s iconic 1978 original, that would conclude the saga of Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) while sweeping aside all prior sequels like accumulated dust in an attic. The first film was largely celebrated as a triumph, but lacked narrative innovation; for all the talk of its grandiose intentions, it mostly functioned like a standard slasher sequel. Follow-up Halloween Kills met with a far frostier reception, though it was never really clear why. The film had an often brutal directness, and touched on intriguing themes of mob justice that felt fresh. If the overall framework was a bit rickety, it at least felt as if the boundaries of the franchise were being stress-tested.

One gets the sneaking sense that Halloween Ends may have been the horror film Gordon Green wanted to make all along. It abruptly jumps four years and finds Laurie in a surprisingly good place, working on her memoir, providing a home for granddaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak) and finding ways to heal. Much of the movie revolves around an entirely new character - Corey Cunningham (Rohan Campbell) - once one of Haddonfield’s best and brightest, whose life was derailed by a horrifying accident that still casts a pall to this day. Allyson is drawn to him, sensing kindred trauma… but Corey’s inner demons draw him to Michael Myers, lurking in the sewers, where a symbiotic bond begins to sprout between the two of them. This is a fascinating concept for a Halloween movie… and in Corey, it actually has a character compelling enough to make it work… but it may not have been the right concept for this Halloween movie - the concluding chapter of a trilogy and, what’s more, the climactic payoff of the entire Strode saga. Gordon Green’s subversive approach has clearly alienated a good number of horror fans, and they aren’t wrong to feel that way. The film takes big, strange, admirable swings… but that doesn’t mean its ideas necessarily coalesce. So much of the script feels at odds with itself, its narrative elements in strident conflict with one another. Corey and Michael vie for control of the mask, but they might as well be awkwardly battling for the soul of the movie itself.

Like Stephen King, Gordon Green seems drawn to the idea of a town functioning almost as its own character… evil emboldened and shaped by the moral rot festering within. Turning the lens on Haddonfield feels like an appropriate choice, but the arc between films remains elusive. Halloween Kills teased the concept, but failed to lay the thematic groundwork with any real conviction (frankly, it also had the wrong ending - Judy Greer's climactic death specifically heightening the stakes in a way the subsequent film doesn't act on). If Michael derives his aura of invincibility from the fear and anger of the community, why is he left in a near-crippled state for four long years, even though, by Laurie’s own admission, things in town have gotten progressively worse? If the point is evil seeking an outlet in the form of a new boogeyman, why does the movie even need Michael at all? At one point, during Halloween Kills, Deputy Hawkins (Will Patton) tells Laurie point-blank "It's not about you." Except... it is, which is why Corey gets shunted aside in favor of Michael and Laurie’s mandatory showdown, which unfolds with surprisingly little dramatic buildup, or context. This is how Halloween ends, apparently - compelled by a strict sense of obligation.

Curtis, as indomitable a presence as ever, deserved better for her (presumptive) swan song. But then the Halloween franchise has always worn its flaws proudly. Aside from universal reverence of Carpenter’s original, you’d be hard-pressed to find any real consensus amongst the fanbase when it comes to evaluating the films. Every entry (even Rob Zombie’s grungy contributions) has its own set of champions and detractors. The David Gordon Green trilogy, an inconsistent but worthwhile venture, is no exception - it may have aspired to divorce itself completely from the sequels, but ironically found a comfortable home amongst them instead.