Halloween: A Love Letter
Richard Petro / 4 February, 2017
- Directed by: John Carpenter
- Written by: Debra Hill, John Carpenter
- Release Date: October 25, 1978
- 91 Minutes
I mentioned at the end of the ‘Ranking the Halloween Series’ article (which you can read here) that sometimes certain things deserve their own pieces, no matter how self-indulgent. Well, the self-indulgence was only half a joke… There’s a reason I decided to write about Halloween separately. Actually, two reasons. The first being the fact that I have surprisingly never had any real in-depth conversations, or pieces, on Halloween yet. The second, and why the first even matters or is worth a damn, is because Halloween just so happens to be my favourite movie of all time.
I first saw Halloween when I was about nine, and I absolutely loved it. I didn’t see it again until a few years later, around the age of 11 or 12. Films are almost always different the second or third time you see them, even when you’re young. As much as I don’t like using this term, seeing the movie the second time opened my eyes. With everything I do now, I owe a lot to the movie, as it had a very heavy hand in building my main interests in the last… long while. I noticed everything about the film; How great the dialogue was, the cinematography, the blocking and scene setups, the choice of shots, how music cues were used, the lighting, everything. I also noticed how you can properly cheat the audience in a way that wouldn’t have them feel cheated. The biggest example of this is the scene where Laurie finds her friends dead and stands crying in the hallway by a dark doorway. Slowly, we see Michael’s mask appear over her shoulder. He’s not stepping into the light. There’s no light there. So where is that light coming from? Who cares, it’s an effective shot, and one of the most memorable moments of the film. The shot is amazing. As obvious as it may be by now, Halloween was the movie that made me fall in love with film and filmmaking. It got me interested in the behind the scenes aspects of how it all worked. Everything I’ve absorbed since, so to speak (Tetsuo-style), for so long, started here. That alone may not necessarily seem like enough to label something as your ‘favourite,’ but the fact is, Halloween holds up tremendously well, even after almost 40 years. It still makes me feel the same way I did when I watched it that time I was 12.
A big part of what works in the film holding up is what I mentioned in the ‘Ranking’ article. It’s the film's simplicity and the way it is presented, with its underlying meaning. It also goes to show that even your underlying meaning can be simple and still work effectively, you don’t have to aim for incredible depth to resonate. It goes to show how things such as this can differentiate you from others. A lot of slashers in the 80’s got a lot of flak for being nothing more than a few reels of people being murdered for no reason until the credits rolled, since that’s what made easy money. It’s an interesting comparison to Halloween itself, since here it’s honestly very similar to a lot of those other films. Here is a ninety-minute feature about ‘teens’ being murdered for seemingly no reason. But, besides the obvious of better writing and more effective filmmaking, there’s one specific thing that separates Halloween from the others, and it’s that core meaning I mentioned. What this movie has is Michael Myers. Even with the sequels and stupid contrivances in them for Michael being what he is, it still doesn’t detract from the effectiveness of the original. In my mind, Michael Myers is still one of the scariest horror figures ever because of what he symbolizes. Two things, most prominently.
The first one is really hit home at the end of the film. Loomis looks off the balcony where Michael fell after he had shot him, only to see that Myers has disappeared. Originally in the script, Loomis was intended to be shocked by this, but Donald Pleasance told John Carpenter that Loomis wouldn’t be surprised, knowing Michael, and asked if he could play the scene as ‘knowing this would happen.’ We then see a montage of places Michael had been that night, as his breathing slowly comes over the imagery and music, before we stop on the final frame of the film; the rundown Myers house. Loomis states many a-time that Michael is simply and purely evil, and the montage works as an unnerving reminder that evil is, and can be, anywhere, no matter where you live. Haddonfield is presented as a town where you could see people leaving the door unlocked at any given time. It’s peaceful and quiet, the biggest issues seemingly random occurrences of shoplifting. It becomes the equivalent of, if one day, you woke up to get ready for school and found your parents by the living room window, drinking coffee, and them having to explain to you that your street has been closed off by the police because a family was murdered a few houses down. This happens, and it’s terrifying to think it could actually happen so close to you.
The second reason is that Michael Myers embodies a very certain essence of evil and fear in the human subconscious. I’m using subconscious in the sense that it isn’t something that is necessarily touched upon a lot. Man-with-knife plus murder eventually, in some way, equals a reason for the action. People like 'one plus one equals two'. People don’t like 'one plus one equals sad shrug' and an “I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can say.” People need a reason and conclusion why some unspeakable, awful thing can happen. It makes people feel better, in ways. And that’s understandable, but sometimes you don’t get that. It’s why I’m not a fan of Michael having reasons like sister or cult for his murderous path. It’s also why I don’t like the remake, with its horrible family and Michael already being ‘damaged’ aspect. One of the things that hammers home the fear of unexplainable horror is the beginning of the film, where child Michael is unmasked. I like the small glimpse we get of his parents. All things considered, they seem like they would have been like everyone else in town. A loving, normal family.
Michael Myers works because he isn’t just the embodiment of evil, he is also the personification of our fear of evil. In a season dedicated to ghouls, witches, werewolves and vampires, and different other-worldly, supernatural things, he is a grim reminder that, just like Michael does in the film, real evil could be lurking in every shadow and around every corner. You never know how and when it will come, and you may never even find out why, but it is there, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. Michael Myers may prefer striking on Halloween night, but his core essence lurks 365 days a year. And that’s an undeniable fact.