Halloween Ends

Director: David Gordon Green
Starring: Jamie Lee Curtis, Andi Matichak, Rohan Campbell, Will Patton, Kyle Richards, James Jude Courtney, Nick Castle, Jesse C. Boyd, Joanne Baron, Rick Moose, Michael O' Leary, Keraun Harris, Jaxon Goldberg
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R  

 **The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers For 'Halloween Ends' **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

For decades, each new Halloween film has generally followed the same template as those that preceded it. What this entails is some variation on the plot of Michael Myers coming home to unleash violence and terror on Haddonfield. That's not to say it hasn't been fun, but Halloween Ends, the third and final chapter of David Gordon Green's reinterpretation of the franchise does something only Halloween III: Season of the Witch and Rob Zombie's Halloween II have attempted. It actually breaks from the formula in a major way, going nearly an hour without showing The Shape at all, telling a self-contained story in which other characters are are given room to breathe and develop, building for the moment he does eventually show up.

In lifting the narrative weight that's dragged down previous installments, we're permitted to hang in Haddonfield and watch people interact without constantly counting down the minutes until you know who shows up. With last year's Halloween Kills pushing the envelope as far as possible in terms of Myers surviving, Green goes in the entirely opposite direction, delivering on the quieter, more character focused aspect many expected him to bring in 2018. While that was a well made quasi-sequel doubling as a soft remake, it did earn some comparisons to Star Wars: The Force Awakens, reminding us of the stringent requirements that often accompany a major IP like this.

This is the real reboot, employing a much maligned tactic that made horror fans' blood boil the few times we've seen it in Friday The 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street sequels. Even Halloween has dabbled in it before (who can forget the cult of Thorn?) But it's actually done well here, playing out in a fresh, exciting way that makes it feel like uncharted territory. As a sidelined Myers is finally given the "time out" he's needed after years of misuse and overexposure, a compelling new character infected with similar urges rises up to take his place. Even while not physically present, Myers' impact and legacy is felt, as the script digs further into Haddonfield's ongoing fear and paranoia while touching on issues related to "cancel culture." So if the big draw was intended to be Laurie facing Michael for the last time, it speaks volumes that it's taken this long to mention that.       

It's Halloween night 2019 and Corey Cunningham (Rohan Campbell) is babysitting a young boy named Jeremy (Jaxon Goldenberg), who pulls a prank that ends in a horrifying accident, with the boy dead and Corey accused but eventually acquitted for unintentionally killing him. Three years later, he's a public pariah working at his stepfather's salvage yard while Laurie Strode's (Jamie Lee Curtis) writing her memoir while living with granddaughter Allyson (Andy Matichak) in a new house, both still reeling from Michael Myers' (James Jude Courtney) last rampage. 

When Corey ends up cutting himself in a confrontation with some high school bullies, Laurie takes him to the hospital where he connects with Allyson, who's working as a nurse. They grow closer and begin dating, but something's off, and Laurie's initial support for their relationship gives way to skepticism. Still being taunted and blamed for Myers' reign of terror, she notices a change coming over the increasingly unpredictable Corey. Now with Allyson slipping away and the community rallying against her grandmother, Michael lurks in the sewers and shadows, making a new friend who plans on following his blueprint for destruction.

Starting the film with a tragic event that vaguely recalls the original Myers murder is shocking, immediately setting this apart from other sequels and opening the floodgates for a number of questions. Who is Corey Cunningham? Why are we watching him? While it's apparent early that the absent Michael isn't directly a part of Corey's personal trauma, he's still very much a part of Laurie and Allyson's, while continuing to hold Haddonfield's residents in paralyzing fear. And explored more concisely here than in the previous film, that fear only begets additional fear and violence. As for the opening sequence, it stands out not just for what happens, but the grisly, darkly comedic tone with which it unfolds. 

With a few notable exceptions, Green generally holds back on the winks, nods and Easter eggs that permeated his first two films, but he gets a good one out of the way early with the Halloween III style title credits, a first of many clever departures and a nod to the only movie containing less Michael. Surprises continue when we still don't go into any Myers follow-up, instead tracking Corey as he faces the harsh hostility and abuse from frothing townsfolk, most of whom have now gone full scumbag after the lack of resolution and justice from four years ago.

When Corey first comes face-to-face with a concerned, empathetic Laurie, the dots begin connecting, even if what comes next remains fairly unpredictable, a rare feat for this franchise. If everyone except Officer Hawkins (Will Patton) hates and blames Laurie, Haddonfield finds it even easier to despise someone they consider a "child killer." And the best thing about Rohan Campbell's performance is that along with the goofy charm, he conveys an awkward instability right from his initial appearance that remains consistent throughout, only adding layers of complexity to what later occurs. 

Green, Danny McBride, Paul Brad Logan and Chris Bernier's script actually takes its time putting Corey through the wringer before meeting his match in Allyson, who's a far cry from the underdeveloped, supporting character Andy Matichak previously made the most of. Now she's essentially a full-blown lead in the vein of Curtis in the original, but under completely different circumstances. Wrestling with the pain and judgment that's accompanied their respective tragedies, Allyson and Corey attract immediately, but believably, as the writers spend nearly an hour fleshing out this relationship, knowing just how much more it will mean when it implodes. 

On paper, none of this should work, but there's just something so rewarding about a smartly conceived Halloween movie that actually develops its characters while simultaneously letting us observe the toxic behavior that's infested this community. Is it entirely due to Myers? The true nature of evil is a scintillating question the franchise has frequently hung its hat on without ever exploring too deeply. This is the closest it's come, asking whether the propensity for Corey to follow in Michael's footsteps was always there or this was a monster was created by the citizens of Haddonfield.

The film goes from strangely good to great during an incredibly shot party sequence at Lindsey Wallace's (Kyle Richards) bar when Allyson helps Corey put his guard and inhibitions down, only to experience more abuse and humiliation for it. Through Myers he'll get his revenge, but that party marks the last time Corey's literal and metaphorical mask comes off. And it's notable that instead of going for the easy shout-out with a clown mask, Green opts for the creepy scarecrow, which undeniably works just as well, if not better.

Damaged after losing both parents, it makes sense Allyson's empathy for Corey only increases the further he sinks into Myers' abyss. Knowing what it's like to be on the outside looking in, her tension with Laurie grows as Corey's rage intensifies. It's an intriguing dynamic for Curtis this time around, leading to Laurie's memorable verbal confrontation with him in the "new Myers house," the site of Corey's life-altering trauma. The "psycho" meets the "freak show" as Laurie lays down the law, serving as a warm-up for when she gets her badass on again later. But until then it's Corey in the driver's seat, going on a streak of revenge kills that are more creatively suspenseful than gory, with the crazy death of that radio DJ being an exception that harkens back to the over-the-top glory days of the franchise. 

Other than a new but sparser than usual John Carpenter musical score, his fingerprints aren't exactly all over the picture this time, though the overall influence is still definitely there. The plot is very singularly focused with far fewer characters than the more overstuffed Halloween Kills so you're either on board with Green's very specific vision or not. Horror fans who aren't will probably be ripping out their hair in frustration, but this narrower focus allows so much development for Corey and Allyson, introducing a sorely needed human element that's gone missing in these movies for years.

As thrilling as it is seeing a Halloween entry not only survive, but outright thrive without Myers, we know at some point he'll become more involved, regardless of his physical deterioration. Played again by James Jude Courtney, Michael first appears a shell of his former self, old, injured and worn out enough that he needs help shaking off the rust. There's this weird tranference going on with Michael and Corey that the writers are smart enough not to overexplain since it's pretty clear why the latter is particularly susceptible. 

Myers has always registered best when treated like Jaws, with his absence making the suspense and terror slowly simmer. Much of that has been abandoned by lackluster entries, but this does it right, with Michael getting a second wind thanks to his alliance with Corey. Working together and murdering in tandem in ways that vaguely recalls Scream, but with more fleshed out psychological motivations, Corey will find out that no one stays friends with Michael for long. 

If the film has a flaw, it's that it cuts bait on Corey a little too early, or even at all, since it's hard to imagine better groundwork ever being laid for Myers' logical successor, especially given how this ends for the Shape. Campbell and Matichak are so good it legitimately feels like a loss that they're not continuing in these roles, but with this being Blumhouse's last entry and closure being paramount, we're left wondering what could have been. And that's okay.  

The trilogy-ending Strode vs. Myers fight is basically a contractual obligation at this point. It's the finale fans want and their kitchen brawl more than gets the job done, as does the solemn Haddonfield funeral procession and subsequent public shredding. But none of that will be what's most remembered. It's everything else that breaks the mold, especially the depiction of a relationship between two believably written new characters we actually care about, anchored by a pair of performances that might only be topped by Curtis' in the original. 

You can't claim Green's effort just blends in with the rest or doesn't earn its divisive reaction by making bold choices. For all the reshoots, delays and bad early buzz, at the end of the day he stitched together a really special final chapter that acknowledges the past and uses it to create something different. Consider it a litmus test, separating fans who follow the series for Michael from those who watch for what he represents, as if Carpenter's intention of an anthology centered around the holiday has finally been fulfilled. But like Season of the Witch, the only problem is the word "Halloween" in its title, along with all the baggage and expectations that brings.You can only imagine this growing in stature once we inevitably groan at the next reboot's promise to go "back to basics," without truly grasping what that means. There's nothing basic about Halloween Ends, and it's all the better for it.