#79: Halloween

Release Date: October 25th, 1978

Format: DVD

Written by: John Carpenter and Debra Hill

Directed by: John Carpenter

4 Stars

I’m not sure exactly if John Carpenter’s Halloween is the most influential horror film of all-time, but it’s definitely had the most imitators. Between its release in 1978 and 1984’s Nightmare on Elm Street, there were over 50 mainstream studio “slasher” releases in the United States. 50!

These exploitation copycats ranged in quality (and increasingly depended on nudity, sexuality, and blood to get butts into seats at the ‘80s mall cineplex), so it might be easy to forget how well-made Halloween is. Not only is it not schlocky, it’s borderline tasteful. And fun. 

Steven and I are running a film club at school and this was our second movie (the first was Beetlejuice; I think the students preferred Halloween). I had never seen Halloween with a group, and I thought it really came alive. The atmosphere that Carpenter creates is so alluring. There’s something coldly lethargic about this suburban setting that I love. It’s not quite idyllic. It’s close, but off just a touch. Maybe it’s the sunlight changing as the day progresses and the shadows start creeping in. Whatever it is, I think it allows Michael Myers to exist, because we’re not exactly in reality. We’re in some sort of lucid dream, and like some dreams, we’re one unexpected glance away, through a mysterious window or down a dark hallway, from the dream turning into a nightmare. 

And because of the limitations of his budget, Carpenter smartly decides to place his wagers on building atmosphere, rather than waste money on casting a washed up ‘50s B-movie actor or TV sitcom sidekick (no offense to John Travolta, who starred in Carrie two years before). He also forgoes any sort of built sets and shoots mostly in suburban homes that I’m sure were rented relatively inexpensively. And as captivating as his iconic piano score is (which Carpenter wrote himself, and is the most iconic horror film score in the history of cinema), it was partially a result of wanting to save money on a composer. He also costumes his killer in a mechanic’s jumpsuit and a $1.98 William Shatner mask turned inside out. 

Simple, but most importantly, effective.

It’s so stripped down. It taps into something in our collective subconscious. Michael Myers, faceless, is the canvas onto which we can project our nightmarish fears. He thrives in shadows and rips at his victims. And even when he’s not on screen, he dominates our thoughts. As Laurie Strode talks with friends in her room, or sits in English class, we, the viewer, are with her physically. But mentally, we want to know, just where is Michael Myers? [cue score]