Halloween has been through some shit. John Carpenter’s Halloween II screenplay showed signs of an artist whose mind was elsewhere, like Antarctica or a city-sized prison. Halloween III: Season of the Witch represents the anthology series that could’ve been. While Halloween H20 was a celebration in the same vein as Wes Craven’s New Nightmare, most of the franchise’s sequels, remakes, and reboots have been disappointing misfires (if not soulless cash grabs).
In 2018, David Gordon Green pulled the Halloween franchise out of a rotting pumpkin patch. The buzz of a collaboration with Danny McBride, a fresh score from Carpenter, and, of course, the return of Jamie Lee Curtis resurrected the franchise — this time without Busta Rhymes.
This doesn’t mean Halloween was back in full beautiful, bloody living color. 2018’s installment was refreshing, but in an era of “requels”(AKA legacyquel), it wasn’t revolutionary either. 2021’s Halloween Kills was a bloated follow-up that practically begged to be a 45-minute Peacock special. The generational Strode storyline was the most compelling piece of the current story, yet Kills muffled the excitement heading into the trilogy’s grand finale.
Halloween Ends is a mixed candy bag. On one hand, it offers an entirely original flavor through one character’s tragic descent into madness. On the other, however, the film’s an inedible blob of promising potential.
The film proposes new paths just to avoid taking any of them. It’s a parade of what could’ve been, and almost seems to recognize the conclusion it isn’t. It’s as if all of Ends’ power is forced into our periphery, teased like Michael Myers poking out from behind a tree.
Corey Can’t Catch a Break
As it turns out, evil didn’t die on the night of Halloween Kills. A year later in 2019, Corey (Rohan Campbell), a babysitter, accidentally kills the kid he’s responsible for watching. He’s vilified over the next four years, assuming the leftover ire of a town that never truly satiated its lust for vengeance.
Corey’s a convenient scapegoat and the devil’s advocate. His ostracization suggests Haddonfield is just as responsible for its bloodshed as Michael (James Jude Courtney). Or rather, that Haddonfield is inseparable from violence; anything that can be construed as evil must be.
A chance run-in with Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis), bullies from a high school marching band, and a few still-grieving parents push Corey closer to Michael’s lair. At the same time, Laurie’s granddaughter Allyson (Andi Matichak) sees a reflection of her own trauma in Corey, and the two grow closer.
Unfortunately, a brief glimmer of hope for something better is quelled when Corey finally encounters Michael. A staring contest with the horror icon is enough to turn Corey homicidal — and grant him some neat teleportation powers.
The notion of transferable evil isn’t new, though Ends handles it with a bit more tact than something like Jason Goes to Hell. Rather than being possessed by Michael, it’s more like Corey catches a vibe. Michael’s presence fuels the belief that anyone placed in Corey’s shoes will fulfill the murderous prophecy Haddonfield forces onto them.
But perhaps out of fear of rewriting Halloween’s formula, Corey doesn’t have the chance to truly demonstrate the vicious cycle. Michael almost immediately becomes just as much of a threat as he’s always been. Save just a few reeling moments, Michael far out shadows any threat Corey could possibly be.
Ends literally ends on the suggestion that evil doesn’t die, it just “changes shape.” Yet the film does next to nothing to try and demonstrate this idea. Everything ultimately feeds back to the same icon the series started with. Sure, that’s great for selling Michael Myers t-shirts, totes, and Funko Pops, but it’s terrible for generating any meaningful excitement around Halloween itself.
Michael Myers Meets Nosferatu
Michael finds his way into a sewer after murdering Laurie’s daughter Karen in Halloween Kills. He lies dormant for years as if engorged by his actions. But Haddonfield is still hungry for closure, and Corey stumbles reluctantly into the town’s crosshairs.
Michael’s slumber basically turns into a coma, as he’s far too weak to stalk the city. His legend persists, but the boogie man himself is fragile and withering. The film toys with the idea that the only thing that can really kill Michael is time. He converts Corey into a familiar of sorts, mostly out of desperation.
And again, while Ends could’ve had an opportunity to illustrate how evil does change shape, Count Myers is another example of what the film isn’t: ground-breaking.
After getting a bit of his mojo back from a good old-fashioned stabbing brought to him by Corey, it’s back to square one. Corey assumes this pseudo-apprentice role, but Michael is constantly there as a reminder of who the real star is.
Maybe for a lack of time or due to too many boxes to check, a film that could’ve been about a tainted legacy instead presents a parasitic tangent. And if the idea is that Michael can proliferate himself in some way, do we really need the character’s presence at all? In an effort to appease old-time fans and weakly spark new interest, Ends only seems to suck its own creativity dry.
Bad Romance
Despite all of the missed opportunities, Halloween Ends halfway nails at least one important thread. While the seeds should’ve been planted with 2018’s installment, Allyson and Corey’s relationship strikes an emotional chord absent from previous entries.
Both are unwilling participants in the chaos they’re immersed in; the only solace they find is each other. Like a combination of Romeo and Juliet and Terrence Malick’s Badlands, each is torn between leaving Haddonfield behind and fulfilling the final girl, slasher villain mold.
Meanwhile, Allyson and Corey are shadowed by their surrogate parents: Laurie and Michael Myers. The generational struggle between these two feels as though it’ll inevitably consume the doomed lovers. And it does, but the film approaches it a bit differently.
As Corey transforms into the monster Haddonfield assumes he is, he rallies against his mentor. In Ends’ penultimate act, he goes on his own killing spree, offing his parents, the high school bullies, and even Darcy the Mail Girl. Allyson, fed up with another mounting wave of death, tells Laurie she’s ultimately responsible for Michael, and her inability to let go of trauma only compounds it.
Unfortunately, while Allyson tries to break the cycle, Corey is so far gone he inadvertently perpetuates it. Both stagger down a tragic path, but only one of them has the fortitude to see it through. In this way, Halloween Ends — at least for Allyson — is a reminder that pain can’t be abandoned, just reconciled and adapted in a way that lets us move on. And though the film’s primary ending tries to tie things up neatly, it could’ve done well to lean into a less-than-perfect outcome.
Halloween Ends isn’t the worst possible send-off for the franchise. And even if it was, the film likely won’t be the last we see of Michael Myers. Still, it clearly had the possibility to be so much more, retreating into the darkness before it goes anywhere.
