Halloween Kills Review

Kill he does. Michael Myers, that is, not the abstract concept of a nonsense holiday used as an excuse to drink and scare. Halloween Kills gets itself off on the wrong foot by implying those nobodies who know nothing at all about movies are correct in assuming that the white-masked Haddonfield slasher is named “Halloween,” and not in homage to the Canadian actor. But trivial details like this are not a problem for David Gordon Green, whose desire to remove anything credible or interesting about the promising series so far has been a massive success. In just one feature, Green has turned this intricate and faithful reimagining into a messy, latter-stages-of-the-1990s piece of indifferent filmmaking.

Indifference is the best emotion Halloween Kills can grasp for. It is a feature that kills and kills and kills. Nothing but killing. It is the slasher without any concept of pace, variety or tone. Scenes of Myers smashing and throwing his way through firemen, tormenting the townsfolk of Haddonfield, who have finally, after all this time, had the good sense to band together. They are still completely useless. Side-lining Jamie Lee Curtis’ starring role to a bed off in a hospital somewhere gives audiences a break from Laurie Strode, but Green is unsure of this snap. He does not make for a clean break and is reliant on Judy Greer and Andi Matichak, yet still underutilises them. The Haddonfield posse coming together to take down The Shape, and all Green can do is mull over where they should go and why with little effect.

But that is the dangerous chance taken by Green and the producers prodding him into stretching this series into a trilogy. What happens here is nothing but filler. Characters come and go with the usual fanfare expected of nods to the audience. It is very much an Avengers: Endgame style experience, just smaller and, somehow, less interesting. Cheap pops and ensemble characters of vaguely recognisable heroes and villains littering the streets of Haddonfield, calling back to the retconned past audiences will hope to forget, rather than experience all over again. That fanfare and desire to bump off the past while also acknowledging it is the awkward line Halloween Kills must balance itself on. It teeters into the gushing, bland fanfare that often overwhelms recognisable anthologies of doomed characters.

It is a feature without point. A reconciliation of themes that are meant to light the torch of a final third. Two is company, three is the crowd. Halloween Kills is, presumably, the crowded pocket of this duo-turned-trio. It would make sense if that were the case, and fans of the series can at least hold out their hope for a satisfying conclusion. But whether Green and his writing team have the mettle to put a final bullet in the series after all these explosive demises for the Myers character is yet to be seen. There is little steam left in the Haddonfield engine, but Myers will plough on through regardless, because the funnels of money still pour from that white mask. Producers will pilfer that boiler suit stuffed with cash until it is a tatty, ugly mess. We are nearing those times.

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