This article contains spoilers for Halloween EndsExpanding on John Carpenter's 1978 original, this October saw Halloween Ends hit cinemas.
When the frustratingly titled Halloween arrived in 2018 (directed by David Gordon Green, and co-written by Danny McBride) it was applauded for its brutal, updated take on a classic franchise. Sleek, violent and no-nonsense, it brought horror icon Michael Myers back from the dead and was a smash hit critically and financially the world over.
Revisiting Carpenter's original Halloween, it's clear that it's a template for what horror films should be: trim and efficient from start to finish, and deserving any and every legacy that was born from it. With the story now finalized in this updated 21st century trilogy (until it is inevitably rebooted again), where the series has excelled most is in its world-building.
Whereas Carpenter's Halloween (and to some extent its very underrated sequel, Halloween 2) introduced its fictional town of Haddonfield, Green and McBride have managed to expand on it with their depiction of (wholesome, then pissed off, then wounded, then likely dead) Haddonfieldians.
Making Up the World of Halloween
With each fresh visit to Haddonfield, and in between Michael's murder sprees, the town feels exactly how October should. Parents supervise their children as they trick or treat. Chill haunted air welcomes the looming winter days just around the corner. Warm homes with lights on and spooky decorations reside in an oxymoron of a town — these homes are inviting as much as they are a warning, inhabited by people who are chronically grieving.
Laurie is picked up as a badass survivalist in the 2018 reboot — scheming, training herself, and waiting for the day that Michael returns (arguably even looking forward to it). However, the people around her (Laurie's estranged family, the neighbors, the well-natured but ultimately hopeless police force) are in a constant state of recovery. Those old enough to remember what happened continue to mourn October 31st each year, afraid of it and what it might bring their orange-leafed town once again.
What the series has done so well is to not only make this the Jamie Lee Curtis Show, but to also make the surrounding populace as interesting as possible with what little time they are given (before they are inevitably gutted). Littered throughout this excellent trilogy are characters galore and wonderful, tiny moments about them, generously dished out preemptively for each person unwise enough to open their front door to trick and/or treaters.
Be it Ray (Toby Huss) talking about his shop class where he just made a bird house, granddaughter Allyson's endlessly chattering co-worker at the clinic (revealed to have gotten the promotion because she's sleeping with the doctor in residence), or locals just generally gossiping about work or their neighbors — these people and their mundane daily lives are intertwined with this little town. Their dialogue and pitter-patter back-and-forths are stocked full of intricacies despite their collectively brief screen time, to the extent that each new Michael Myers kill comes with a mix of bittersweet thoughts: I know they're going to die, but I hope they go out in the coolest way.
Not Just Body Bags
Credit where it's due. Coupling these mundane witticisms only works coming from the correct actors and the casting department (all three films' casting was overseen by Sarah Domeier Lindo and Terri Taylor). This has resulted in the varied faces of fan-favorites like Big John & Little John (Scott MacArthur & Michael McDonald, below), the cowboy hat-wearing Sheriff Barker (Omar Dorsey), and most recently the fork-tongued disk jockey Willy The Kid (Keraun Harris).
These characters make up the background of the world so well because they feel genuine and current, and physically look small-town — ideal for Michael to then go on to tear apart. Even Michael himself in the finale of Halloween Ends finally has his face revealed from underneath the mask. Beneath the rubber, what is barely shown to us is this walnut-like architecture built up by decades of evil, adding to the mystique of the character that much more.
Although they feel absolutely real, as well; this isn't merely a town filled with horny teens checking out strange sounds in the basement. These people don't merely feel like fodder for Michael to rip up in the next scene. That's because the scripts add tiny details to make even the more on-the-nose conventions of the genre (like poorly timed school dances or babysitters being offed) feel impactful and not just another bloodied hand grasping into the Halloween bag of horror clichés.
Evil Dies Tonight!
Halloween Kills went one further, driving its townsfolk to become an angry mob led by Tommy Doyle (Anthony Michael Hall). One of the boys who survived the original Myers spree, Tommy has grown up in this town and reveals his fears to a packed bar. On stage, he and three other fellow survivors reveal that aptly, like cancer, in Haddonfield if Michael hasn't killed you personally then you know someone he has. Discovering that Michael has returned and realizing that the police aren't ever going to be enough, Tommy goes on to head a vigilante crowd against one of their own, refusing to let him kill anyone else.
While the films have done so well at creating these characters and filling the town with lived in residents, Tommy proves that deep down there is a mindset that reflects their Laurie Strode patriarch, and that quite simply this man in a mask is evil and must be stopped. His evil has brought out the violence in these otherwise quaint people.
As the series has been updated, the townsfolk mirror a current day America as well. As Haddonfield's population arm themselves en masse behind Tommy and his rage (and with Halloween Kills' release just eight months following the January 6th storming of Washington's Capitol Building), it acted as a shockingly recent reminder of the very real and dangerous swaying of opinions towards violence for the benefit of one single man's personal goals.
Refreshingly with a series so reliant on violence and guns, American people firing weapons is (for the most part) not glamorized across the three films. More than once, hapless gun users regularly make mistakes and accidentally harm or kill fellow concerned citizens in their pursuit of trying to kill Michael.
Case in point, take when a woman dressed like a nurse shoots herself in the face, not properly knowing how to handle the weapon. Scoffed at by some of the more snobbish horror fans as ridiculous at the time (while convenient to the script, yes), it's a moment that shows a fragile desperation and how immediately dangerous these unfortunately everyday items are within the microcosm of the United States.
The End
By the finale of Halloween Ends, with Michael finally dead for good, his corpse is paraded around the town for everyone to see. Anyone left alive from the series shows up to watch as Michael Myers' body is crushed in a metal waste thresher with zero possibility of him reanimating. After disposing of his body and declining him a grave, there is no room for any more whispers of The Boogie Man. Halloween Ends sets out what its title tells you will happen, as its community finally is given a respite to heal.
In such a small town, and with Laurie's demons exorcised, you believe that her and the former small-town deputy can meet in the supermarket over a shopping trolley in one scene and then maybe fall in love after the credits. And why not? Haddonfield is a great place to live...
For at least 11 months of the year, anyway.