Halloween: Resurrection
A friend of mine, who gets scared so often and so badly that he carries around several changes of underwear in his car at all times, commented recently that Michael Myers is the scariest of all the horror super-killers – and apparently he has the skid-marks to prove it. I would have to agree. He does have the skid marks to prove it.
Freddy was kickass until he started churning out the one-liners and until his scares got less scary and more and more goofy (like the time his face appeared on the meatballs on a pizza – oh boy I didn't sleep that night). Jason is a supernatural mummy's boy who died as a little kid and yet is somehow a 7ft tank, and let's face it, it's hard to take him serious when he not only dies every instalment (only to be resurrected the next) but after running out of virgins on Earth to slaughter he actually went up to space to continue his rampage. Dedicated stuff.
By comparison the most recent adventures of the ever silent, ever stalking Michael Myers seems slightly less crap. Busta Rhymes and Tyra Banks have taken over the Myers estate, where young Michael started his reign of terror, and turned it into a haunted-house for an Internet reality TV show. That's, like, so post-modern that it Blew. My. Mind.
Anyways, Michael Myers happens to be in the neighbourhood and decides to check out what the fuss is all about. Once he discovers these fools are making a mockery of him and the legacy he has worked so hard to build, he goes understandably bezerk and stabs a whole bunch of people.
There's a whole sub-plot about some geek that's “streamlining” the show-gone-wrong over “the Net” at a party, and soon the whole party is watching and yelling “Look behind you!” at the people in the house even though they can't hear them and then my mind just blew once more as I realised that these people at the party represented me and you: the audience, who were also meant to be screaming out “Look behind you”…except that I was talking about footy or something whilst having a beer with a bunch of friends and this just happened to be on the TV and no one could be fucked getting up off the couch to turn it off.
It would be a big call to say this is the worst Halloween film. After all, the third instalment actually deviated from the Myers story and was about a witch making evil Halloween toys. It's a bit of a shame that after the quite-good-from-memory Halloween: H20 they didn't get any momentum going and instead settled for this piece of crap. This film also kills off Jamie Lee Curtis' character Laurie Strode (Michael Myer's sister) once and for all. A relief to her, no doubt, but it does leave an uncertain future for the skidmark-inducing killer who, unlike Freddy and Jason, has managed to keep it somewhat personal all along (even if, technically, he was down to killing second cousins or something in a few of the dodgier sequels).