I was a sunny 16 in 1998, toiling away behind the concession stand of now closed movie theater when Jamie Lee Curtis returned to the genre that made her famous. Halloween: H20 (we'll get to that title, don't you worry) didn't impress me then, it feeling far too tame and sleek, a false-classy picture trying to distance itself form the Dead Teenager chapter of cinema it had birthed. Thirteen years and Netflix Instant Watch later, it felt right to revisit the film and see how well it held up.
Also, I was really thirsty and H20--I'll stop now.
Because I won't later.
Quick Plot: Twenty years after Michael’s ’78 autumn slaughter, Laurie Strode is now living an assumed identity as the headmistress of a snooty prep school in Northern California. Having faked her death to avoid being associated with parts 4-6 in case her brother came back, Laurie now spends her days slurping down Chardonnay, necking with the school guidance counselor, and coddling her 17 year old son John (played by the “introduced” Josh Hartnett). John does as a good-looking young man in a Kevin Wiliamson-inspired film does and mopes about his independence, looks sharp in a ruffled school uniform, and dotes upon Michelle Williams.
If only Halloween night’s biggest challenge was sneaking away for a cafeteria sponsored party! Sadly Michael emerges from...well...
a discount mask shop I guess to stab Dr. Loomis’ former nurse in the search for Laurie’s new digs. That turns out to be easy enough that a two-day drive in the vintage car belonging to a murdered woman gets him to his little sister just in time for the entire school to take a vacation without her, her boyfriend, son, son’s girlfriend, sassy security guard, and a few pieces of easy knife fodder.
a discount mask shop I guess to stab Dr. Loomis’ former nurse in the search for Laurie’s new digs. That turns out to be easy enough that a two-day drive in the vintage car belonging to a murdered woman gets him to his little sister just in time for the entire school to take a vacation without her, her boyfriend, son, son’s girlfriend, sassy security guard, and a few pieces of easy knife fodder.
So. H20. Halloween 7. Halloween: 20 Years Later. Halloween: Liquid
A lot of things about Halloween: Water are killing me. Not EVERYTHING. Without question, we can agree that Halloween: Hydrogen + Oxygen surpasses the miasma of its predecessor and Bustariffic followup. But for the film to so haughtily dismiss Parts 4 and 5 as if they’re pure tripe, not classy enough for the return of horror royalty...well, amongst other issues (H Two Oh?), it irks me.
Jamie Lee Curtis is wonderful as Laurie Strode. Was in the ‘70s. Was in the early ‘80s. And yes, still was in the ‘90s. We never doubt for a moment that this is our favorite final girl all grown up, a damaged but secretly strong woman who’s been waiting in fear for the majority of her life. It feels RIGHT watching her stand up to the Boogyman.
Sorry Tyra. There’s an art to this sort of thing.
Unfortunately, a great scream queen doesn’t necessarily make a film. Halloween: The Water Movie is riddled with issues, most of which are indicative of its time and place as a late ‘90s studio horror film. I stopped counting fake-out jump scares when I reached ten within the film’s first thirty minutes. That was exhausting, but then something great happened: I was able to almost NOT watch anything that happened onscreen because these dramatic SOUND CUES would PUNCH ME IN THE EARS whenever something EXCITING was about to HAPPEN..
Or if there was just another jump scare jumping my way.
So that’s part of Halloween: The Liquid You Need To Stay Alive’s problem. Two parts, actually. And there’s a third:
It’s too frickin’ nice.
Now I don’t need the nihilism of a Rob Zombie universe just become the word “Haddonfield” is mentioned. I just need to be scared, to believe the black-eyed boogyman is going to stab his way through whatever blocks his ultimate target. I can’t do that when 1) Michael’s atrocious mask displays some charming baby blues and 2) I don’t buy for one moment that he’ll kill anyone of mild sympathy.
Take, for example, an early scene where a passing driver and her young daughter pull over to a questionable rest stop bathroom. Director Steve Day of the Dead 2008 Miner stages a tense setup as these two female innocents hide behind dingy doors while the black-clad Michael sneaks in. We catch a glimpse of him through the bathroom crack, a terrifying image that wouldn’t give these ladies a chance. Except, of course, he does. All he wants is a ride, which is easy enough to get by grabbing a pocketbook and
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!
Ooops, just a spider.
Nevermind, he’s gone. Carry on.
Look, I don’t WANT to see a cute little girl filleted on the roadside. And I kind of understand the idea that building this early tension is supposed to put us on edge for the later carnage. And that the original Halloween was far from the gratuitous bloodbath folks misremember it as. But when every three minutes, a scene ends with a false danger, it’s hard to EVER care.
It doesn’t help that in true studio form, the body count ends up being too small to form an adequate trivia night team in heaven. The main victims have the word “Main Victim” all but tattooed on their pretty faces, while the ones that SHOULD die because their characters ARE PUT IN EXTREME DANGER BY ONE OF THE MOST DANGEROUS CREATURES IN CINEMA manage to run, stab, get shot, get stabbed, and pretty much tango with Michael before ending the film with their attractive mugs barely bloodied.
One of my problems with the Scream series (SPOILER ALERT) is its obvious reluctance to ever kill the characters fans adore. Dewey clearly survived Part 1 because test audiences were angry, probably scooted through Part 2 for the same reason, and will continue to limp through Scream 86 (or rather, Sc86m, which won’t make sense but neither does ACHE TOO OH so who’s complaining?) until David Arquette actually dies and his clone leaves the acting world to pursue a career in puppeteering.
Wait, what were we talking about again?
High Points
I can’t hate a movie that opens on a close-up of a shiny steak knife as it slams downward into a fertile pumpkin
There’s a nice subtle touch in crafting Michelle Williams’ Molly as a Laurie-esque character. We don’t get much of her, but just the one scene of having her be the only student to answer an English literature question has a sweet sense of good girl nostalgia
Low Point
While it’s a good gesture to dedicate the film to Donald Pleasence, was studio warfare so intense that they couldn’t use his past dialogue for the early narrated “Dr. Loomis” moments?
Don’t name your film after water. Just. Don’t.
People like to read descriptive adjectives (as opposed to the non-descriptive adje--um)
When a bullet grazes you, it also knocks you out and makes you bleed profusely to the point that in no way could you possibly be mistaken for alive
Swinging a knife is about as noisy an action as turning on factory equipment or mowing one's lawn
Credits Curiosity
Initially, I was charmed to see a teenage Joseph Gordon-Levitt mucking around in a hockey mask and stealing his neighbor’s beer to earn a rollerblade throat slash. It was a cute pre-credits cameo that’s even more charming 13 years later when Levitt became a genuine star (rather than a grown-up Angels In the Outfield seer). But see...he dies before the credits. So why does his name even come up?
And just who edited all those jump scares? A soon-to-be 3D titan known as Patrick Lussier
Trick It/Treat It/Drink It/Bathe In It
Halloween: The Awfully Titled Sequel is silcker than most anything else in the series, with better than usual performances and some genuinely well-staged scenes of suspense. At the same time, it's flawed in a way only good money could buy and personally, rather indicative of what went wrong with theatrical horror in the 1990s. It's certainly worth a viewing for Halloween fans, as seeing Jamie Lee Curtis battle her big brother is as rewarding as it should be. But as a movie...well...it depends on your tolerance for 98,778,425 and counting jump scares and an equal amount of obnoxiously aggressive sound cues.