Halloween II (2009) review

Once again, Rob Zombie amazes, frightens, horrifies, and even enlightens us with another film which is being called the final installment of the new story-arc in the Halloween franchise. If you really love having the living crap scared out of you, this isn't going to disappoint at all. Zombie continues his theme of the horror of violence in American life and culture and its repercussions, giving us the best of both worlds: b-horror bliss fused with elements of high cinema and social criticism.

The original 1981 sequel was a terrible disappointment, even coming from writer/director John Carpenter and the late Debra Hill (a woman whose loss I'll always mourn, a great movie producer), it wasn't good at all and the direction was flat and uninspired, and we won't even go into how bad Halloween III (1983) was, it's unwatchable and literally has nothing to do with any of the series in any incarnation.

Part of this is because it took a good two years for the original Halloween to gain a following, and by that time, Carpenter was putting the finishing-touches on The Fog (1980) and beginning pre-production on the infamous remake of The Thing (1982). He and his production company were stretched too far, and it showed in that original sequel that can only be called a meaningless and gratuitous piece of drivel. But there's still no real reason for the existence of the original sequel to the legendary Halloween other than money, to keep a franchise going, and it would get unimaginably worse as time went on. That's not the case with Rob Zombie's sequel to his own reimagining of Carpenter's and Hill's original storyline, and that's why he felt the responsibility to have meaning and a message behind the violence of the film that is both unflinching and even self-accusatory, a very brave act for a filmmaker of almost any stature.

The basic story elements of the original sequel are in-place: Michael Myers somehow survives being shot and enigmatically disappears, returning to kill Laurie Strode (Scout Taylor-Compton). It's been established already in the first Zombie remake that Laurie is really Michael's sister, and he wants a family reunion. This was never handled with any real insight or imagination by the original sequel, but Zombie takes a page from expressionist film and also introduces us to Jung's concept of the "shadow self" and the archetype (deep psychological symbols common to all humanity), this time in the form of phantasms of the young Michael and his dead mother (Sherri Moon Zombie), sometimes accompanied by a white horse. There is a hinting that Michael and Laurie have some kind of psychic-link, but this is kept very ambiguous and there are no real answers, a nice touch. The 1981 version is almost entirely isolated to a hospital, not the case in Rob Zombie's version, which wisely dispenses with just about the entire plot of its original.

After a prologue that I don't want to give away, we're taken into Laurie's very sad life just one year after the horrific events of the first film, and another Halloween is approaching. While she's treated well living with Sheriff Lee Brackett (Brad Dourif) and his daughter Annie (Danielle Harris), her life is tormented. This isn't the same girl we met in the first film at all. She's become very traumatized and cynical, and it shows. Her preoccupation with nihilistic youth culture makes that pretty loud and clear, and her nights are punctuated with nightmares of that night...but also of some very curious archetypes of Michael Myers as a child and his late mother, dressed in white, signifying a strange obverse of purity. Bizarrely, Laurie begins seeing archetypes from the mind of Michael Myers (starting with the dreams, very Jungian), and on one occasion, as he's disemboweling and eating an animal on his path to her and destiny, she connects with it and becomes nauseous and has a bout with vomiting.

In the mean time, Dr. Sam Loomis (Malcolm MacDowell) has become even more famous as a bestselling crime and psychology author, and it shows. He's become what he calls himself in one later scene when he views himself and his shadow self in the mirror: an "asshole." He couldn't be more correct. His new book on Michael Myers and his primadonna behavior at PR events and book-signings shows us that Dr. Loomis has become nothing more than an exploiter and an opportunist, and his new book exposes and damages the life of Laurie in telling the world that she's the sister of Michael Myers. The psychological effect on her is profound and permanent and there's no going back afterward.

Even Loomis's literary agent hates him for it, one of the movie's real shockers! As in the original 1978 Halloween and Zombie's reimagining, these lives will eventually converge with tragic results, but it all began back in the squalor of the Myers home during the 1970s, hence the occasional nod to past pop songs, a nice tip of the hat to Kenneth Anger whose style is also echoed in the visual style of the film. And so, after leaving a trail of dead bodies, things finally do converge once again in Haddonfield, Illinois, with "mother Myers" beckoning Michael and Laurie to an inevitable conclusion. To tell you any more would be to ruin it, but rest assured that there is a finality to it all, even with the ending that's right out of the original Psycho (1960).

Interestingly, the only moment of the film where John Carpenter's original score cues come are in the final scene and the credits. Welcome to the dark side of America and the products of abuse and neglect, coupled with a culture rife with violence cues and the actual thing itself. The shadow world is here, now, and Zombie's trying to show us the bloody-maw before it's too late. Family truly is forever in the world of the mind, the Platonic forms, and the realm of the archetype, birth imagery-and-all. A must see. Ignore the bad reviews, this is the real deal, real horror.

Anticipating Rob Zombie's Halloween II

WWW--YES, I loved Rob Zombie's reimaging of John Carpenter's original Halloween, I thought it was extraordinary and worthwhile, almost a "what if" of filmmaking--think Peckinpah doing a slasher.

All the more reason to do a reimagining of the 1981 sequel, since it, well, sucked. Everything that the original Halloween was accused of--namely, being bloody and gratuitous--were writ large in the original Halloween II, it never justified its existence. Zombie's films justify themselves purely on their stylistic charms, but he does have point-of-view, something that's sorely lacking in most of today's cinema. Where are the great directors? Maybe Rob Zombie has yet to prove his mettle as a "great" director," but he's gradually convincing me, and I've been watching movies for at least 36 years.

Other than maybe Guillermo Del Toro, I'd have to say that Rob Zombie is one of the only noteworthy directors my generation has yet to produce. Whenever they make a new film, I'm as excited as I ever was or am when the new Terry Gilliam or David Cronenberg film becomes news.

Why? Zombie actually has something to say, and I thought his first remake in this series was a good anti-violence tract, it made me cringe the way a horror movie's supposed to, but it didn't allow me to like the carnage. This irritated a lot of the audience I saw it with a couple years ago, your typical Indiana goober crowd. Zombie went for the Kubrick approach from A Clockwork Orange or Peckinpah's masterstrokes in Straw Dogs and Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia: show violence and its consequences, show it for what it is, ugly and tragic. More of the same? Bring it on, I want more...

Rob Zombie's Halloween (2007) review

In 1978, I tried to see the original John Carpenter film, but I was only ten-years-old. Interestingly, the local theater played it again in 1980, as the word-of-mouth on the film had spread and it had become a major independent hit.

For a long time it was the most successful independent film ever made, though the lousy Blair Witch Project ended that record. What can I write about the original that hasn't already been written? It's incredible, and very atmospheric, a favorite, and still pretty plausible and creepy. It could happen. The same could be said for the new version.

Rob Zombie has given genuine horror fans a wonderful gift: we don't have to feel bad about missing the original when it came out anymore. This is equally good and pays incredible respect to the original, and Zombie discussed the project and his take on it with John Carpenter beforehand, something that wasn't done with the so-so 'Dawn of the Dead' remake.

Shot in the same widescreen Panavision (2.35:1), we get a familiar story with some significant changes: gone is the possible supernatural quality of Michael Myers, a phantasm who becomes something non-human, a part of the holiday itself. He's just 'the shape' emerging fully-formed in the 1978 version. In Zombie's recasting of the original screenplay by John Carpenter and Debra Hill (RIP), the focus isn't on the mystery surrounding the killer, but offers some explanations as to why he is what he is.

This version makes the killer and his victims human, and this is where a number of so-called horror fans are going to be split. To make his point clear, the director begins the film before the prologue killings of the original, and paints a more contemporary and honest view of American family life, while setting it as a period piece in the late-1970s (the time of the original film's release).

It's a very vivid recreation of the decade that was my childhood, and it has an aspect of social realism to it, regardless of the stylization of the film itself. It's an awfully realistic depiction of squalid American working-class family life during that era, which I bore witness to in other families around my neighborhood. These are the people nobody cares about. Little has changed, as the movie makes clear, and the seeds are now bearing their fruit.

Rather than the brief glimpses of a straight-laced 1963 Myers family, we see a disaster of sexual, emotional, and physical abuse. This wouldn't have been possible in 1978 to the degree it's depicted by Zombie and his collaborators (if you wanted an 'R-rating' then), and actor William Forsythe (Patty Hearst, Dick Tracy, The Devil's Rejects, and much more) does a fine job playing an abusive step-father to Sheri Moon's stripper mother. It's not a healthy home environment.

What I found mind-blowing, however, was just how well Rob Zombie remembers the cultural landscape of late-1970s America, it was jaw-dropping. From the expletive-laden, sexually humiliating slang of the kids bullying young Michael in a school bathroom, to the music, the kitsch (t-shirts and joke-stickers abound), and the attitudes, he's brought the 1970s to gasping, breathing life again. It's an incredible time-capsule, and it made for what is a great way to adapt the story to a contemporary culture and setting: NOW.

As one would expect, there is a lot of movie history and homage to be found in this film, and it's a real joy, but the director decided to take-up the aesthetic of Kubrick and Peckinpah in his depictions of violence and murder. What's that you say? Read on.

If you've ever watched a Sam Peckinpah film, you already know what I mean. If you've ever watched--truly watched--Stanley Kubrick's "A Clockwork Orange" (1971-72--cut and re-released due to an early 'X-rating'), you understand what an anti-violence movie must do in order to get its message across: it has to show mayhem for what it is, which is drawn-out, ugly, and something that has consequences for the perpetrators and society. You're not supposed to get-off on the violence, you're supposed to be repulsed and fearful of it.

Insofar as violence and murder are concerned, it's well-established that once the door has been opened, it's rare that it ever gets shut until all the players are dead or neutralized in some fashion. Will gore hounds love Zombie's 'Halloween'? Yes and no. They'll enjoy the brutality and grimness--there's plenty of that on-offer here--but they're not going to find the violence entirely enjoyable or even tolerable...that is, if they're normal.

From "The Wild Bunch" (1969), to "Straw Dogs" (1971), and even to "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia" (1974) and his final film, "The Osterman Weekend" (1983), Sam Peckinpah wanted to show us that violence has consequences and that it is something ugly and to be feared. His message was cautionary, and that same message is apparent in Rob Zombie's take on Halloween. It's not meant to replace the original at all, but to compliment it.

The story-jump of fifteen-to-twenty-years is covered more here--the time that Michael Myers is locked-away in the mental institution, and his time with Dr. Sam Loomis. As most fans of the original remember, it was the late Donald Pleasance who played this part, and exceptionally well. Cult legend Malcolm MacDowell lends the same authority to the role, we well as cementing the anti-violence message of the film by his mere presence, and his performance is of a more caring Loomis. He pities Michael Myers, and in a nice touch, his relationship with the killer is extended back further as a school counselor.

As in the last two Rob Zombie movies, we get a gaggle of b-movie legends: the great Ken Foree (1978's Dawn of the Dead, From Beyond, and much more), the incredible Bill Moseley (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, House of 1,000 Corpses, etc.), Joe Pilato (The Matrix, and almost everything else), the great Udo Kier (Andy Warhol's Dracula, Shadow of the Vampire), Brad Dourif (Blue Velvet, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Dune), Clint Howard (everything), Danny Trejo (Grindhouse, Maniac Cop 2, Whore, From Dusk Till Dawn, etc.), Richard Lynch (God Told Me To, The Sword & the Sorcerer, Deathsport, Vampire, and more), and several others who will please most movie buffs.

But what I found really smart was casting the Laurie Strode character (originally played by Jamie Lee Curtis) with someone with a low-profile as an actress--Scout Taylor-Compton. Little Daeg Faerch as '10-year-old Michael Myers' is the real eye opener here, and he makes the movie very unsettling. Imagine watching a child descend into insanity--I cannot think of anything more disturbing, but that's what Zombie depicts. It's like a slice of Poe, it's the essence of horror. We get to see the process unfold, even after the initial murders, and it's not exactly entertaining. It's truly horrifying to watch a little boy transform into a killer.

Very few films--to my knowledge--have ever depicted a child murdering another child in a drawn-out fashion (think Hitchcock's "Topaz"). The Loomis character adds to the 'whys' of how Michael Myers became a murderer--that he was a 'perfect storm' of 'internal and external influences,' someone with pre-existing tendencies who was pushed too-far by his environment. It might have went in another direction in another home, another community...another life. But it didn't. Rob Zombie's Halloween, then, can only be a classic tragedy that is almost mythic in its examinations of violence and the family.

Wisely utilizing an original score with the original Carpenter themes (albeit adapted) and a bulk of new musical-cues , as well as that same William Shatner Halloween mask, Zombie has scored a classic study in what makes a serial killer while retaining what made the original so good. One could find comparisons to Richard Speck or even Henry Lee Lucas and Ted Bundy. The parallels are there for the curious to examine. A must-see for those concerned about the roots of violence, and a solid addition to the canon of horror. Evil has a destiny alright--constructing its own demise. Rob Zombie has nothing to prove after this film, good job.