Book Review: HALLOWEEN III SEASON OF THE WITCH: THE NOVELIZATION (1982, Dennis Etchison)

Stars:  3 of 5.
Length:  228 pages.
Publisher:  Jove Publications, NY.
Tag-line:  "The night no one comes home.  The new screen shocker by Jack Martin based on a screenplay by Tommy Lee Wallace– a John Carpenter /Debra Hill production."
Back cover blurb:   "Do you know where your kids are tonight?  The streets are quiet.  Dead quiet as the shadows lengthen and night falls.  It's Halloween.  Blood-chilling screams pierce the air.  Grinning skulls and grotesque shapes lurk in the gathering darkness.  It's Halloween.  The streets are filling with small cloaked figures.  They're just kids, right?  The doorbell rings and your flesh creeps.  But it's all in fun, isn't it?  No.  This Halloween is different.  It's the last one."

Happy Halloween, everyone–  Poor Man's Carpy continues!

Using the pseudonym of "Jack Martin," Dennis Etchison brings us another John Carpenter-related movie novelization (he also did THE FOG and HALLOWEEN II) that's better than it needs to be.  In lieu of retreading old ground, if you need a little background on Etchison and his other Carpy-related work, see my review of THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION.  Also, if you're somehow unfamiliar with HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH, allow me to fill you in:

After HALLOWEEN II, John Carpenter was getting sick of this Michael Myers guy, and envisioned the HALLOWEEN series as becoming a series of spooky flicks that merely shared the common holiday setting.  Therefore, he, HALLOWEEN co-creator Debra Hill, and crony Tommy Lee Wallace (who designed the original look for Michael Myers) teamed up to unfold the saga of an evil cult of killer-robot-manufacturing Irish people living in a small town in California who are hell-bent (literally!) on killing the children of America by way of rigged masks that will turn them into rotting piles of snakes and spiders. They are doing this so that people will take Halloween seriously again.  It leads to an absurdist, apocalyptic, INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS-by-way-of-James Bond conclusion, and in its own way is one of the great, underrated horror films of the 1980s.

So what does HALLOWEEN III: THE NOVELIZATION bring to the table?  The language isn't quite as florid as in THE FOG, but it's a decently written palimpsest of the screenplay.  Let me give you the rundown– my ten favorite things about HALLOWEEN III: THE NOVELIZATION:

#1.  It begins with a Thomas Hardy quote.

 Remember him, possibly from English Lit?  JUDE THE OBSCURE, THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE, THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE, TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES, etc., etc.?  So let me say that again:  the HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH novelization begins with a quote by Thomas Hardy.

"If a way to the better there be, it lies in taking a full look at the worst."
–Thomas Hardy

Is that a prediction of HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION?  Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck.  (Also, I'd like to see Carpy do "TESS OF THE COUPE DE VILLES!)

#2.  Attempts to recreate how annoying the "Halloween Countdown song" is.

Anyone who's seen HALLOWEEN III will never forget the "Eight more days to Halloween, Halloween, Halloween... eight more days to Halloween..." Silver Shamrock song, set to the theme of "London Bridge is Falling Down."  Etchison, obviously, makes it an integral part of the novel.

"The insistent refrain, chanted inanely to the tune of 'London Bridge is Falling Down,' was for a few moments everywhere, even cutting into speakers which were set to carry only a steady drone of Muzak around the clock throughout the hospital and, it had seemed to Challis lately, the entire world.  But tonight he was feeling no pain.  '...SIL-VER SHAMROCK!'  At last the advertising jingle wound down, followed immediately by Madison Avenue's idea of an Irish jig."

#3.  Michael Myers fake-out.

Etchison knows that some readers of HALLOWEEN III: THE NOVELIZATION (specifically those who haven't seen the film yet) are going to expect to read about Michael Myers.  Instead of being up front with his audience about Myers' exclusion, he tries to fake them out for the first fifty or so pages.   I find this to be hilarious.

In a marked reference to "The Shape" being Myers' name from the credits to the first film, Etchison tries to fool us while he describes one of the Irish robots:

"It was not a bush that was moving.  It was the shape of a man.  ...He veered to the curb and cut his lights.  The shape was no longer there."

Furthermore, he specifically references the tag-line of the first film by naming the first section "The Night He Came Home Again." As you read on, you realize that this actually refers to "Challis" (the Tom Atkins character).  Additionally, the opening murder (which takes place less than five minutes into the movie) doesn't occur until 53 pages in to this thing!  It almost seems designed to piss people off.  I heartily approve, and find it well-deserving of a slow clap.

 #4.  Challis' (Tom Atkins') alcoholism.

In THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION, Etchison fills in a few gaps in regard to character development, particularly with Father Malone (Hal Holbrook), the tortured whisky priest.  Here, since Challis is the clear protagonist, Etchison's focus is not divided (THE FOG has an array of protagonists– you could even make the argument that the fog itself is the main character!) and he's free to explore his brooding and alcoholism in great detail.  We see a fair amount of it in the movie, but in the novelization, Etchison describes it quite well, alternating between grotesque Bukowskian flourish,  Raymond Carver-ish straightforwardness, and Amis-style panache.

"'Agnes, tell me you've got a beer stashed somewhere with my name on it.  You were just about to say that, weren't you?  I can tell.  My mouth feels like a bedpan.'"

"He was strangling the glass neck through the twisted brown paper." 

"The day after the funeral he had bourbon for breakfast."  

"He poured beer down his throat.  It tasted bitter, but he knew it would make him feel better in a few minutes."  

"Beneath the wide brimmed hat was an old face, covered with stubble and deeply creased from too many years out of doors and out of luck.  The expression in the eyes was rat-shrewd.  It was a look Challis had seen all his life, in bus depots and skid-row clinics in every city he had worked.  The face was no more than forty years old by the calendar.  But they had been forty long, hard years." 

And perhaps one of my all-time favorite sleazy 1982 sentences:

"Ellie's maroon Cutlass was waiting at the curb in front of the liquor store."

#5.  These sentiments extend to Challis' brooding, which is wonderfully bitter and even more enjoyable if you properly imagine it as Tom Atkins' internal monologue.

"Kids, he thought.  They don't forget– they're too young– and so they don't forgive.  They're the only truly uncivilized beings left on earth, a race apart, a primitive tribe and a law unto themselves."

"The evasions are over.  I thought I could get away.  But I couldn't.  Happy Halloween, he told himself, gunning the motor and roaring away from the house, his house, the house he had built and would continue to maintain forever, undoubtedly even unto death and beyond the grave, if his ex-wife and the lawyers had their way.  Trick or treat?  ...He knew the answer, and would never ask the question again."

#6. Big Ideas.

Etchison tries to work some Big Ideas into this mass market paperback...  and sort of succeeds!  He hammers the point home that men are becoming like machines, that our humanity is being lost as our society becomes increasingly mechanized and detached.  These have become stock ideas and it's nearly impossible to express them without hammering the reader over the head, but dammit– Etchison hammers 'em well:

"They survive, he thought, the slow and the stubborn, the old individualist misfit sons of pioneers who won't allow themselves to be folded, stapled, or spindled.  The revolutions come and go, nations are torn apart and rebuilt, the climate changes to make way for the next millennium; the snow on the wheel turns and the century ices.  Men like machines walk on the moon and machines like men remake the world in their own image; the iron dream rears its head again in a new age; the old tribes fade from sight in the long night of the human soul."

I never thought I would read about "the long night of the human soul" in any movie novelization, much less that of a much-loathed horror sequel written under a pseudonym.  Will wonders never cease?


#7.  A FOG reference?

Apparently Father Malone survived THE FOG and relocated to Santa Mira?

"A signboard reading 'Church of St. Patrick/Rev. Father Tom Malone' was hanging peeled and broken from one upright."

#8.  A Jamie Lee Curtis reference.

The robotic, Big Brother-ish voice which lords over the evil Irish town of Santa Mira is played in the movie by an uncredited Jamie Lee Curtis.  She even gets a shout-out in the novelization:

"'Going down,' said a sensuous female voice."

#9.  The book can also function as a robot-killing manual.

"The graysuit outside her room went into a sputtering death-dance at the first surprising thrust to its soft spot.  The same spot, where the diaphragm would be in a human being, an inch or two below the center of the ribcage.  Challis remembered well his latest anatomy lesson."

#10.  The closing lines of apocalyptic brilliance:

"'STOP IT!  STOP IT! STOP...'  Then there was only the sound of the rain outside in the endless blackness of the long night and, presently, the rising tones of a pitiful wailing within and without, spreading across the station, the town, and the land without end."

Simply fantastic.  That about wraps it up, ladies and gentlemen. Again,  Happy Halloween– and stay tuned:  Poor Man's Carpy shall continue through November!

–Sean Gill

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Film Review: HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION (2002, Rick Rosenthal)

Stars: 1 of 5.
Running Time: 94 minutes.
Notable Cast and Crew: Jamie Lee Curtis (HALLOWEEN, PERFECT, PROM NIGHT, TERROR TRAIN), Busta Rhymes (SHAFT '00, NARC), Tyra Banks (THE FRESH PRINCE OF BEL-AIR, COYOTE UGLY), Ryan Merriman (FINAL DESTINATION 3, THE RING TWO), Sean Patrick Thomas (THE FOUNTAIN, CRUEL INTENTIONS), Bianca Kajlich (10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU, BRING IT ON), and Brad Loree (X2, THE X-FILES). Archival footage of Donald Pleasence. Based on characters by John Carpenter and Debra Hill. Screenplay by Larry Brand (BACKFIRE, OVEREXPOSED) and Sean Hood (the new CONAN THE BARBARIAN, CUBE 2: HYPERCUBE). Directed by Rick Rosenthal (HALLOWEEN II).
Tag-line: "The night HE came back!"
Best one-liner: "Trick or treat, motherfucker!" or maybe it's the poetry of "Let the dangertainment begin.... up in this motherfucker." Or perhaps "You want some of this? Huh? You want to try and fucking kill me? Huh? You like sushi, motherfucker?!"

Oh, goodness gracious me.  Hoo boy, and the whole kit and kaboodle. Talk about Poor Man's Carpy–  HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION is a pile of hilarious post-SCREAM trash, bundled in embarrassment, smothered in cliché, and repackaged for the era of reality TV.  In comparison, this thing almost makes HALLOWEEN: H20 look like HALLOWEEN.  Hell, even the poster feels the weight of this shame and would rather fool you into thinking you're looking at Ghostface instead of the tattered legacy of Michael Myers.  

The plot involves a company called "Dangertainment" that's working on a Haddonfield reality series when Michael Myers himself crashes their party.  Subsequent attempts at SCREAM-style self-awareness are cringeworthy. The less said the better, so I'll keep it brief:  here are three things that I absolutely never could have conceived of happening in a HALLOWEEN flick:

#1.  Jamie Lee Curtis re-imagined as Sarah Connor in TERMINATOR 2.

They don't even try to disguise it– she's a stringy-haired, crazy-eyed badass mental patient who warns her captors in vain about an unstoppable killing machine (she's defeated before) who may now be on the prowl again.  Michael Myers, predictably, shows up to kill her and Laurie Strode is given a rather ignominious send-off before the movie even begins.

I realize it's a hackneyed "badass" one-liner, but why would Laurie Strode think she's going to hell?

Hey, if Hannibal Lector and Clarice Starling can smooch...

Well... she gave it her best shot.  And, dammit, if anyone deserves $3 million for an extended cameo, it's Jamie Lee Curtis!

#2.  This one is so bizarre, it defies easy description.  What we have here is Michael Myers stabbing one of his victims with a sharpened tripod, a clear homage to one of the great-grandaddies of the slasher movie, Michael Powell's PEEPING TOM.

1960's PEEPING TOM.

 

2002's HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION.

Anyway, this in and of itself wouldn't necessarily be worthy of mention,  but here it's only a crosscut backdrop to another, inexplicable scene:  that of Tyra Banks making a whipped cream latte and 

rocking out with a spazzified solo dance like in that SAVED BY THE BELL episode where Jessie Spano (Elizabeth Berkeley) gets addicted to caffeine pills and performs "I'm So Excited."  In short, while it sure as hell doesn't belong in a HALLOWEEN movie, it's certainly deserving of a slow clap.

#3.  In the original HALLOWEEN (which J.D. over at Radiator Heaven recently did an excellent write-up on), there's a brilliant Donald Pleasence monologue which attempts to tackle the true nature of Michael Myers in just a few brief, ominous lines:

"I met him, fifteen years ago; I was told there was nothing left; no reason, no conscience, no understanding; and even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, of good or evil, right or wrong. I met this six-year-old child, with this blank, pale, emotionless face, and the blackest eyes... the devil's eyes.  ...I spent eight years trying to reach him, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up because I realized that what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply... evil."

In HALLOWEEN: RESURRECTION, Busta Rhymes is tasked with transcending Donald Pleasence's assessment, and while the monologue he's been given is certainly more succinct, I think we all must admit that it doesn't exude the proper... atmosphere.

So, apparently Doctor Loomis spent eight years trying to reach Michael, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized that what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply... a killer shark in baggy-ass overalls.

And that's about all there is to say about that, ladies and gentlemen!

–Sean Gill

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Book Review: THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION (1980, Dennis Etchison)

Stars:  3.7 of 5.
Length:  180 pages.
Publisher:  Bantam Books, NY.
Tag-line:  "The terror filled novel– based on a motion picture written by John Carpenter and Debra Hill."
Back cover blurb:  "Before the light of dawn, you will know the vengeful fury of the dead.  Tonight the fog that rises off the California coast is different.  And deadly.  A writhing icy mist pulsing with terror.  It is too late to escape.  Even now the people of Antonio Bay are cut off, engulfed.  Along darkened streets, death searches them out.  There is no sanctuary for the living.  Those who are doomed will die horribly.  Those who are spared will suffer the endless fear of a soul-chilling night when the dead, finally, return for revenge.  THE FOG: NOW A MAJOR RELEASE FROM AVCO EMBASSY PICTURES."

Now here's some real Carpy marginalia– the novelization of THE FOG!  Longtime readers will note that THE FOG is one my all-time favorite horror movies, and I did a write-up about it a few years back which you can read here.  (Others will note that I was even so moved by THE FOG that I wrote a three-part series of John Carpenter fanfiction entitled "Carpy & the Cap'n" which chronicles the fictitious attempts to combine a CAPTAIN RON sequel with a spin-off of THE FOG.)

Anyway, as to the novelization:  surprise, surprise– it's basically the movie.  But amid its cheap and yellowed pages there's some nice ghostly atmosphere, the clear influence of writers like Ray Bradbury and M.R. James, and some fine horror nostalgia for fans of Young Adult lit in the 1980s.

A little background:  from page one, you can tell that Dennis Etchison is a higher caliber of writer than those who usually pen these sorts of trashy mass-market rush-jobs.  His C.V. is of interest, too:  he  was the President of the American Horror Writers' association in the early 90s, wrote an un-produced adaptation of THE MIST in the early 80s, was Stephen King's film consultant on the nonfiction DANSE MACABRE, and was a staff writer on TV's THE HITCHHIKER (you can read a rundown of my love/hate relationship with that particular series here).   Later, under the pseudonym of Jack Martin, he wrote the novelizations for HALLOWEEN II, HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH, and VIDEODROME, one of which will be the subject of a forthcoming review.

Now, without further ado, my Top Six favorite moments from the paperback novelization of THE FOG:

#1.  The opening lines:

     "The moon rose over the bay, round and burnished as a golden doubloon.  It hung there high above the black waters, breaking the even waves with yellow tips and tinting the flat sand and the beach houses and the jagged trees behind them with a faint, ghostly pallor, a reflection of its polished, uneven face."

Etchison really sets the stage– evocative, ornate, maybe even a little overblown.  But that's good.  He's not a hack, and this isn't simply a paycheck for him.  Right off the bat, he's letting us know that he intends to take the novelization of THE FOG very, very seriously.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.

#2.  Father Malone (Hal Holbrook in the movie)'s alcoholism: 

     "Ought to put the wine away, he supposed.  But why bother?  The boy had smelled it on his breath enough times.  ...He turned slowly and gave the boy a sleepy smile, rotating the stem of the crystal wine glass in his fingers." 

and his self-condemnation:

     "His robes flowed open, rustling over the uneven stones as the material filled with dank air and blossomed around his thin body.  From time to time his bare heels caught and tripped on the hem, but he took no notice of the tearing of the vestment as he drifted on, circling the pews beneath darkling stained glass, doomed to visit, again and again, without end, the stations of his dispensation."

Malone's soul, racked with guilt over the misdeeds of his ancestors, has become that classical archetype of the "whisky priest."   This is what movie novelizations are all about– the writer has to fill his paragraphs with something extra– so why not explore in depth what is mostly alluded to in the movie?


#3.  Evocative prose.

     "He marched across the sand, packed smooth again during the night, the red float at the end of his fishing line swinging in the sky in front of him like a brave winking eye, leading the way. ...  Already his cheeks were burning as the breeze combed his hair back with a fine spray from the riptide.  Far down the beach at the cusp of the bay, a big dog, an Irish setter or golden retriever, pawed for sand crabs and then broke into a loping run at the gulls that were sunning themselves at the waterline, kicking up a muddy trail and then dashing for safety, his legs splaying wildly and his pink tongue flying, as the water washed in to fill his footprints with clear bubbles."

The seaside has always impelled writers to employ poetic language, and Dennis Etchison is no exception.  And though it's not quite worthy of William Faulkner, that closing sentence up there is pretty damn lengthy for a movie-based paperback, intended to be disposable reading for people on summer vacation!


#4.  That stomach-pounder reference!

As I explained in-depth in my review of HALLOWEEN 6, a throwaway line in THE FOG has led to much debate about what, exactly, a "stomach-pounder" is.
Here, is that section from the novel, replicated in all of it's glory:

     "'Mom, can I go get a Stomach Pounder and a Coke?'
How quickly they change gears, she thought.  Exit the wood to the junk pile, enter the Golden Arches.  'After lunch.  Did you eat your breakfast?'
     "Yeah.  I'm gonna go look for another one [piece of driftwood -SG].    Maybe this time I can get the gold coin!'
     He jumped off the bed and raced out of the bedroom."

Well, now it certainly looks like the person who theorized it meant "Quarter Pounder from McDonald's" was right, given the reference to the "Golden Arches."  But again this raises the question– why would he get a Quarter Pounder after lunch?  Perhaps we will never know. 

#5.  Added material.

There's not a whole lot here that's not in the movie, but, for example, Stevie (Adrienne Barbeau) notices a crucified starfish on her property; we spend a lot more time with Dan O'Bannon (Charles Cyphers) and his daily routine, which involves a daredevil coastal drive to the weather station; and Andy (Ty Mitchell, who plays Adrienne Barbeau's son) has an extended dream sequence with evil pirates, Davy Jones, and a giant manta ray ("...the remains of the great pirate Davy Jones himself.  An electric eel was slithering alive inside the empty skull, lighting the eyesockets with a blinding florescence.  A host of plankton jetted by, tinging the water around Andy with a glow like Greek fire.")


#6.  Like the movie, it leaves plenty to the imagination.

The violence is muted and atmospheric, remaining true to Carpenter's vision.  From the death of Mrs. Kobritz:

"Had he looked back over his shoulder one last time to argue, he would have seen a tall shape solidifying behind Mrs. Kobritz, a stringy black hand reaching around her head from the outside, closing at her chin, covering her mouth so that she could not scream, and lifting her as if she were a rag doll straight up into the air, leaving her empty shoes toppling on the welcome mat." 

And so there you have it.  THE FOG: THE NOVELIZATION.  Not an essential work of literature by any means, but far better than it needed to be! 

–Sean Gill

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GIANT OSCAR MESS: Best Dance of Seduction

In my continuing coverage of GIANT OSCAR MESS (best described HERE), I present to you the nominees for BEST DANCE OF SEDUCTION IN A MOTION PICTURE.

And the winners were...

....Deborah Reed and David McConnell in TROLL 2, for obvious reasons.

(to be continued...)

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Next Sunday: GIANT OSCAR MESS at the Bowery Poetry Club

As part of my ongoing series as an artist-in-residence at the Bowery Poetry Club:

Next Sunday, February 26th at 9:30 p.m. (doors open at 9) at the Bowery Poetry Club (308 Bowery between Houston and Bleecker, take the F train to 2nd Ave, or the 6 to Bleecker) will be Junta Juleil's retort to the Academy Awards– the GIANT OSCAR MESS. Combining live performance, singers, dancers, comics, and hosted by Sean Young (Jillaine Gill) and Christian Slater (Sean Gill), the GIANT OSCAR MESS will deliver awards to the films that really deserve them (and screen a variety of short, mind-blowing clips therein); films like PERFECT, TROLL 2, THE GARBAGE PAIL KIDS MOVIE, BODY ROCK, MUNCHIE, THE PIRATE MOVIE, ROCK N' ROLL NIGHTMARE, RENT-A-COP, MAC AND ME, TEEN WITCH, ACE HITS THE BIG TIME, DEATH WISH 3, SALSA, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 2, and many, many more. $10 at the door.

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John Carpenter Fanfiction: CARPY & THE CAP'N- PART 3: SEASON OF THE WITCH (2010, Sean Gill)

CARPY & THE CAP'N:

A NEW WORK OF JOHN CARPENTER FAN-FICTION

BY SEAN GILL


Author's Note: This piece was preceded by
PART I: LOS ANGELES PRELUDE
and
PART II: RETURN TO POINT REYES.


PART III.
SEASON OF THE WITCH.

9.
10:37 P.M. April 27, 1993. Grauman's Chinese Theater, Hollywood, California.

Outside of Grauman's Chinese theater, all was quiet. The stillness was quite remarkable given the sheer amount number of raucous Cap'n Ron fans in attendance, John Carpenter thought as he thrust his hands deeply in his pockets. He paced back and forth, quite aimlessly. He'd survived a sufficient number of premieres to shed any real, crippling anxieties, yet his legs were still restless. He turned toward the theater again. It was draped with four enormous one-sheets, symmetrically arranged. The posters looked like this:
He glanced at his watch. The film should be ending any moment now. Suddenly, one of the doors swung open, and a tuxedo'd Kurt Russell strode out, purposefully.
"The big zinger's comin' up!" gushed Kurt.

"You didn't want to see their reactions?"
"Nah, I wanted to be out here with you, Johnny. We'll see their reactions soon enough, HAW-HAW-HAWWW!"

Faintly, he could hear the closing credits strains of the Coupe de Villes' "O Captain! My Captain (Ron)." A murmur within grew to a roar, and suddenly the red carpet was teeming with well-dressed Hollywood professionals and professional hangers-on (all equipped with martinis, of course). John was faced with a line of well-wishers, and while it was pleasant, he began to zone out their smiling faces and kind words and focus in on random martini chatter in the background. Here's some of what he heard:

"I didn't understand- is it a sequel to CAPTAIN RON, THE FOG, CHRISTINE, or ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK? Or is it all of them?"

"Ho-leee shit, that reveal of Snake Plissken at the end blew my goddamned mind! Now I have to rewatch CAPTAIN RON and check for foreshadowing! How did I not see it? They've even got the same eyepatch! It's like how Clark Kent fooled the staff of the Daily Planet!"

"Soooo lame. Carpenter's losing it. It's all been downhill since THE RESURRECTION OF BRONCHO BILLY. And what was with that soundtrack? It sounded like it was recorded by some old dudes in a basement."

"I liked it. A lot. But I must admit I was creeped out by all the Tom Atkins nudity."

"Wait, wait, wait. If Captain Ron and Snake Plissken are one and the same, then why doesn't shirtless Captain Ron have the snake tattoo?"
–"Because he hasn't gotten it yet, asshole! ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK takes place in 1997. This is 1993, jag-off."

"This has got to be his worst movie since THE THING. Or at least since that BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINATOWN. And the effects looked fake. Rubber and shadows. That's all it is. Why doesn't he get on board with these, uh, what're they called? From the TERMINATOR 2. Yeah, these C-G-I effects."

"Dennis Dun was born to do these kinds of movies. Why is Carpenter the only one giving him work?"

"BUCK FLOWERZ PART WUSHN'T BIG ENUFFF!"

At this last announcement, John actually turned around to see Buck Flower, dressed in a trenchcoat and swilling malt liquor from a brown paper bag. John arched a knowing eyebrow, smirked, and Buck shuffled away. As the night progressed, John became weary. He caught his eyes losing their focus and he looked down at the red carpet, now an indistinct, crimson blob. Something else that was red entered his field of vision. Something red and plaid. He shook his eyes to attention and looked up to see a kilt-wearing 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper. Piper wore an expression of sheer emotion upon his face, and there was a touch of wetness from where a single tear had streamed. Before John could say anything, he found himself caught up in a bear hug of titanic proportions.

"You're like that man you admire," pronounced Roddy.
"Who?"

"That director, did that picture with the Duke."

"Howard Hawks?"
"Yes. You show us how to live."
"Well, let's not get carried away, Roddy."

"You never admit to yourself what you are, John. You're one of the giants."
"Thank you, Roddy."

Roddy released his grip, straightened John's suit in a gesture that was at once strangely boyish and grandfatherly, and walked on. John felt renewed, somehow. He was filled with an indescribable energy he hadn't quite felt since his youth in Bowling Green. He straightened his cuffs and turned to face... Adrienne Barbeau.

"Adrienne, great to see you." They hugged.

"I liked it, John. Nice to see some humor after all these apocalyptic...meditations."

"Well, thank you. And thanks for being in it!"
"I figured a little voiceover cameo was the least I could do."
"I think it's nice for the audience to know that Stevie Wayne's still out there, somewhere, broadcasting snappy jazz and sultry weather reports."
Adrienne chuckled. "I'll see you around, John."

As she walked away, John felt a tap on his shoulder. Before he knew it, Kurt had handed him a martini glass and raised his own in a salute. Goldie Hawn stood awkwardly behind him.
"Cheers!"
"To Captain Ron..." offered John.
"To the best damn buddy I ever had," said Kurt.
"Cheers." John took a sip, but was immediately repulsed by the taste of coconut-infused monstrosity that rippled in his glass. "Wait a minute- is this-??!"

"It's Malibu, Johnny-boy! HAW HAWWWW!!!"
"Ye Gods!" exclaimed John, swishing his tongue in a futile attempt to cleanse his palate. The two men laughed for a long time.

10.
7:27 P.M. May 13, 1993. The basement of Nick Castle.

"Naw, Jamie, it's a little quicker than that. Up-tempo. Two, three, four!"
The Coupe de Villes rocked out harder than ever. They had a whole new slate of hot songs from the CAPTAIN RON soundtrack, ranging from pleasant ditties like "(He's the) Captain of the Ship" and "She Lives in Antonio Bay" to dark prog rock tracks like "Into the Fog," a song featuring a six-minute guitar solo by Tommy Lee Wallace which everyone agreed was downright Stygian. But for now, there was a new face amongst the Coupe de Villes: Jamie Lee Curtis, on drums. For some reason, she was wearing her costume from PERFECT.
Of course, she was only sitting in for a few rehearsals, but she'd felt so bad about missing out on CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG that she felt indebted to the band.
"Rockin' practice, fellas. ...And lady," remarked Nick Castle.
"I agree," said John.
"What about the elephant in the room?" asked Tommy.
"What about this?" Tommy waved a copy of Variety in the air. John, knowing what was coming, pursed his lips. Nick and Jamie looked to the magazine with interest.
"Says here that 'CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG is a futile exercise in self-promotion,' blah blah blah, 'an excuse to get his cronies a soundtrack album deal,' blah blah, 'a rip-roaring good time for no one, unless you're the cretinous sort who sees BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA as the pinnacle of film art,' blah blah, uh... and here: 'certainly the front runner for worst film of the year, and I've already seen BOXING HELENA, SUPER MARIO BROTHERS, and COP AND A HALF.'
There was a long pause, and Jamie Lee Curtis and the Coupe de Villes eyed one another, unsure what to say.
"Don't you care?" asked Tommy. "It's the Inquisition! It's SEASON OF THE WITCH all over again!"
"No," replied John. "I don't. These things might not really find their audiences for ten, twenty years or more. And the people who like 'em, LOVE 'em. I didn't make my movie for these flavor-of-the-month simpletons. I didn't give them any thought when I was making it. So I'll especially give them no thought afterward."
"John's right, you gotta put it out of your mind, or you'll just torture yourself. And over what? Some pencil neck in an office who doesn't know shit from Shinola," concurred Jamie.
"Check this out," offered Nick, pulling a different publication from his back pocket. "Cahiers du cinéma. It's their half-year issue, and they've assembled a list of the best films of 1993 so far. See, look who's number two... US!"
"Who's number one?" inquired Tommy.
"CARLITO'S WAY," read Nick. "So if Cahiers didn't have such a hard-on for all things De Palma, we'd be number one."
"YAH-EH-YUHH!" screamed Tommy, offering his fist. Nick placed his hand atop his, and John followed suit.
"What's happening?" wondered Jamie.
"It's a little thing we do," explained John. "Call it a secret handshake."
"COOOOOOOOOOOP DE VILLES!!!" they yowled, in unison.

11.

5:27 P.M. June 13, 1993. John Carpenter's home. Hollywood Hills, California.

John Carpenter reclined on his couch as Kurt Russell noisily wolfed down a super nacho platter. They were watching the third game of the 1993 NBA finals, a much-anticipated match between Phoenix and Chicago.
Watching basketball together was a common activity for John and Kurt; occasionally they'd spend hours together without even speaking at all, and yet it still felt to them like quality time. Today's game was not particularly thrilling, and neither was feeling very invested.
"What you got comin' up, Johnny?"
"Oh, yeah. Forgot to tell you. Anthology movie on Showtime called BODY BAGS. Premieres in August. Gonna be doing some acting in this one."
"Yeah? "
"Well, not a lot of acting. More like the narrator. A master of ceremonies."
"HAAAAA! You think you're Rod Serling, Johnny-boy?"
"Nah, I'm more of a Ghoul, or something."
"Good, so you won't need to hire a makeup artist... HAAAWWWW HAAAWW!"
"Verrrry amusing, Kurt."
"I'm just jerkin' yer turkey, man. Heh, heh."
"What about you?"
"Little flick called TOMBSTONE."
"That's right. A Western. Damn. Who's directing?"
"I am," Kurt whispered softly, winking. "But don't tell anybody. On the record, it's a guy named Cosmatos. Stallone gave me the lowdown on TANGO & CASH."
"Well, well..." John pondered, "who'd've thought you'd ever be directing, and I'd be acting? Or that you'd be directing a Western before I did?"
"It's the CAPTAIN RON thing. He turns everybody's lives upside down. It's what he does."
John smirked and took a swig of his beer.
"But you have no idea, Johnny– everything I know about directing, I learned from you."
"I don't think I'd be such a great teacher- 'John Carpenter' films are the only kind I know how to make."
Kurt chuckled, but then looked away, collecting himself. His manner became quite serious. "I, uh, don't know if I ever told you this, Johnny, but... I always saw you as a big brother. And now, gettin' to do what you do- in a manner of speaking- it's uh... I don't know what. It's great."
"Thank you, Kurt, that means a lot."
"Pity about CAPTAIN RON 2, though."
"Don't worry, it'll find its audience down the line."
"That's cold comfort to the Cap'n. But you know what I think?"
"What?"
"Remember the tale of Walt Disney's last words?" Kurt was referring to the legend that just before Walt Disney died, he had summoned for a pencil and paper, written the words 'Kurt Russell,' and then expired.
"Yeah. I thought you didn't believe it."
"Well, I'm still friendly with a lot of folks at Disney, and a few weeks ago they let me down into the vault. Showed me the actual piece of paper. It certainly had the look of authenticity. You can't fake that dead man's scrawl. And it said, 'Kurt Russell,' alright. But there was something about the placement of the name, and a purposeful stroke to the right. It's almost as if it were the beginning of a sentence which was never finished. Now maybe it was a misfiring synapse, he'd just seen FOLLOW ME, BOYS!, and he had my name in his mind by mistake when he really meant to write something else... Or maybe he had a vision of the future. Maybe he was going to write- 'Kurt Russell, team up with John Carpenter and make some of the best damn movies of all time.'"
"I don't think old Walt would have held a favorable view of THE THING."
"Oh, shoosh it. I'm trying to say something nice."
"Well, thank you, Kurt. You're a treasure, too."

12.

8:56 P.M. June 13, 1993. The interior of Kurt Russell's pick-up truck.

Kurt chawed on a gargantuan ham sammy as he drove home from John Carpenter's place. It was a lovely Sunday evening, and the sun was still setting as he made his journey through Laurel Canyon. His car phone began ringing, and, setting down his sandwich, he picked up the receiver.
"Kurt?"
"Hiya, Goldie."
"You on your way home?"
"Yup. Yessiree, the check is in the mail."
"What?"
"Nevermind. Ten minutes."
"Okay, honey. See you soon."
"Bye." Kurt moved to place the receiver in its cradle, but paused. Without thinking, he picked it up again, and began speaking, despite the fact there was no one on the other end:
"Just remember what ol' Kurt Russell does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Kurt Russell just looks that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, 'Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.'" He sharply hung up the phone, chortling privately to himself.

Meanwhile, in the bed of the truck, the desert wind fluttered a tarp, briefly revealing none other than Powers Boothe, curled and crouched and ready to spring, a devious grin upon his lips.
In the distance, heat lightning flashed and thunder rumbled and somewhere a scrappy kid was watching BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA for the first time and life was good.

THE END

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John Carpenter Fanfiction: CARPY & THE CAP'N- PART 2: RETURN TO POINT REYES (2010, Sean Gill)

CARPY & THE CAP'N:

A NEW WORK OF JOHN CARPENTER FAN-FICTION

BY SEAN GILL


Author's Note: If you missed Part I: Los Angeles Prelude, may I suggest that you read it before proceeding.

PART II.
RETURN TO POINT REYES.

6.

6:35 P.M. June 21, 1992. The Old Western Saloon. Point Reyes, California.

The fifth day of the shoot had just come to a close, and John ruminated upon on the previous week's events while sitting by a pot-bellied stove and sipping on a bourbon. The film had been beset by a number of problems, but the cast and crew were still keeping their heads above water- so to speak. When he'd arrived on the 15th, though the actors' call wasn't for two days, Dennis Dun was already there, getting the lay of the land and doing some research on his character.
He'd be playing 'Captain Kwon,' and John didn't have the heart to tell him that any preparation might be too much, considering the level of dignity (or lack thereof) which the part entailed.

On the 17th, the rest of the actors arrived- familiar faces like Buck Flower, Peter Jason, Tom Atkins. Unfortunately, a few of the former principals were unavailable- Jamie Lee Curtis was off shooting pick-ups for FOREVER YOUNG, and Adrienne Barbeau was caught up in a miniseries called THE BURDEN OF PROOF, but on such short notice, John considered that it was to be expected. The most notable newcomer was the actor playing 'Blake.' The original Blake, of course, had been obscured by makeup and shadow and was played by special effects artist Rob Bottin. (When John had called to tell him he'd been 'replaced,' Rob had feigned indignation, and they'd joked around for a bit- but Rob was in the thick of it on a third ROBOCOP movie, so they didn't have a chance to adequately catch up.) The new guy was a fearsome gent whose performance as Philip Marlowe had really struck a chord for John- his name was Powers Boothe, and John was confident that he'd get on famously with the ensemble.

Kurt rolled in a bit late ("Captain Ron time" and all that), but John couldn't grouse too much because another actor was even later than he– "Rowdy" Roddy Piper.
Roddy, who would be playing Captain Ron's brother "Nardo," blew in on the afternoon of the 18th, but then insisted so sincerely that he'd misplaced his daily organizer in the wrong kilt and misremembered the date, that John felt strangely guilty for his premature annoyance.

The first scene they shot was a flashback between Captain Ron and Nardo, and John was immediately unsettled by the odd vocal affectation that Kurt was employing.
"What's with the voice, Kurt?"
"AHHHAAA! What, you don't like it, Johnny? It's Cap'n Ron's voice! Gotta keep it for continuity!"
John looked to Sandy, who shrugged her shoulders. "Continuity," she conceded.
John made something of a half-scowl which slowly transformed into a bemused smile. "This is CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG, after all," he told himself.
"I love the voice!" gushed 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper. "Can I do one, too?"
"Sure, sure," John consented. "Do whatever you want."

John overcame this dangerous initial detachment, and some of the best work thus far had occurred on the second day. It was full of action scenes, and John could settle straight in to the 'pure cinema' aspect of it.
Dennis Dun swished swords and swashed buckles, Powers Boothe looked scary as hell putting 'Rowdy' Roddy into a headlock, and Kurt swung across a deck on a rope like Tarzan. While it wasn't exactly Hawks, he was finding himself embracing the sort of filmmaking that hadn't really been seen since the days of Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone. But he was finding the horror aspect to be somewhat lacking. Attempts at forcing Kurt and Rowdy Roddy to embrace the spirit of the picture and read H.P. Lovecraft's THE SHADOW OVER INNSMOUTH or THE DUNWICH HORROR ended in failure; but he finally convinced them to read THE TERRIBLE OLD MAN, which was only four pages long. The problem was not illiteracy, per sé– it was Kurt's Malibu n' margarita obsession that had now spilled over onto Roddy. These kitschy hi-jinks were not affecting the quality of their performances, John surmised, but they certainly had to be affecting the quality of their leisure time.

7.

8:19 P.M. June 21, 1992. Near Tomales Bay, California.

John left the bar and, lighting up a cigarette, walked down a dirt road toward the marshes at Tomales Bay. Captain Ron's ship, The Wanderer (a Formosa 51 yacht weathered and painted for a vintage look) was docked by the shore.

On deck, he could see Kurt gyrating and boogieing about for an audience comprised of Buck Flower and Roddy Piper. Buck shook dollar bills about in the air and pumped his fists, apparently believing himself to be in attendance at a dogfight. John felt the brisk sea breeze blowing against his face and through his hair. He heard the silly debaucheries in the distance and gentle waters lapping against the smooth hull of the Wanderer. "This," he thought, "is why I do what I do." He stood there for a long time, eyes closed, his idyll uninterrupted... until a booming voice emerged from the empty space beside him.
"Hell of a sunset, isn't it, Carpenter."
John opened his eyes and turned to see Powers Boothe regarding the seascape with reverence.
"Sure is."
"Blake would see it as an invitation. The cold, beckoning finger which wrenches him nightly from a watery grave."
"What do you see it as, Powers?"
"What I see it as isn't worth a tin shit. While I'm here, I'll look like Blake, I'll talk like Blake. I'll think like Blake."
"Maybe you and Blake just have a lot in common."
Powers stared into his eyes with a coldness and precision which chilled him, and then chuckled, smiling.
"I'll see you around, Carpenter."
"Twelve noon, Captain Ron time."
"No..." Powers focused his eyes on a point in the distance. "I'll see you on 'Blake time.'"
"Oh yeah, when's that?"
"ANYTIME...." Powers winked. "Every time... All time..." Powers continued to mutter as he walked off.
John continued to watch the sunset, but with vague trepidation. "It's good," he thought to himself, "to be on one's toes while shooting a horror picture."

8.

10:45 P.M. July 20, 1992. The Lighthouse at Drake's Bay.

The final day of shooting. It had been a real doozy. They'd managed to pack so much into one day already, and yet they still had one final scene to shoot. John reflected on the day's events and the Herculean accomplishments of the cast and crew:

At 11:00 AM, they'd shot Tom Atkins' nude scene. It was a closed set, but Kurt and Roddy had managed to sneak in, and they made noises approximating flatulence throughout by pumping their cupped hands in their armpits, much to John's chagrin. Gary Kibbe, being a pro of the highest degree, got the shots he needed anyway.

At 2:00, they'd shot Buck Flower's big death scene. In the first FOG movie, Buck played a character named 'Tommy Wallace' who had met a grisly, watery end. In the second, he played a character named 'Lee Wallace ('Tommy's' brother) who met a grisly, watery end. "How come you play such a good hobo?" asked Sandy, a few days into the shoot. Buck grinned a terrible grin from behind his unkempt, fleecy whiskers, and suddenly any answer whatsoever would have been entirely redundant.At 5:00, they shot Blake's monologue, which was one of the centerpieces of the script. There'd been a lot of argument about whether or not Blake should actually speak, but as soon as Powers had been cast, the decision was unanimous: to not let him speak would be a crime. Powers nailed it in one take. When John had congratulated him on his excellent work, Powers curiously closed his eyes and inhaled and exhaled with great purpose. Much later, nearly everyone present would claim they had felt an icy chill and seen a green mist curling under the door, despite the fact that all of the fog machines had been safely powered down...

At 7:00, they did the close-ups for the chase scene. The stunt driving was long in the can (shot in late June), but to finish the scene was something special- you see, it involved a 1958 Plymouth Fury (a car quite familiar to fans of CHRISTINE) being driven by Kurt Russell.
Dennis Dun was riding shotgun, and slinging verbal barbs to and fro with Kurt. John figured that Kurt would heartily enjoy getting behind the wheel of a '58 Fury, but he only razzed him for all the ones he'd needlessly destroyed during CHRISTINE. "It wasn't needless," protested John, but Kurt loudly unleashed some witty jeer about "hot roddin' sonsawbitches" which drew the applause of the crew. John couldn't decide whether it was the sheer number of scenes to stage or Kurt's charming insolence which was making the day dawdle so.

At 9:30, they shot a pick-up of buddy-bonding involving Tom, Dennis, Kurt, and a few local volunteers. The scene was pure Hawks, and it was terrific to finally shoot it.
He'd briefed the boys two days earlier at a screening of RIO BRAVO in his hotel room– "He showed us ourselves, the way we area, the way we should be... that's why you gents are pulling together to engage Blake– he already got his revenge, but still he wants more. All you want to do is live self-determining lives. Blake, conversely, is self-obsessed. Blake is chaos. The title may be CAPTAIN RON VERSUS THE FOG, but that's not how Hawks would've looked at it. It's not the HIGH NOON model: GARY COOPER VERSUS THE GUNSLINGERS. It's the communal model. The RIO BRAVO model. JOHN WAYNE AND DEAN MARTIN AND RICKY NELSON AND WALTER BRENNAN VERSUS THE OUTLAWS. There's just not room for that on the marquee."

Finally, it was 10:45. Time for the final take of the final scene of the final day. The lighthouse shone ominously in the moonlight. A brisk ocean breeze was blowing into shore.
Kurt, Powers, and Roddy were ready and set. John looked through the camera's eyepiece and nodded to Gary Kibbe. He turned and smiled at Sandy. "This is the martini," Sandy declared to the crew.
"Action!"
Captain Ron dashed up the grated metal steps of the lighthouse, Blake's shadowy presence on his heels. Out of nowhere, Nardo leapt on Blake's back and the beach bum wrestled the wraith quite skillfully, allowing Captain Ron to escape to the lighthouse's roof. Enraged, Blake battled, gained the upper hand, and tossed Nardo down a flight of spiraling stairs, incapacitating him and allowing Blake to proceed to the roof where he could settle his affairs with Captain Ron. Blake glided up to the staircase's end and tore the metal portal from its hinges. Slavering like a wild beast, Blake approached Ron and the camera tracked across to a pair of feet, standing their ground quite stoically. Only they weren't the familiar sand-encrusted flip-flops we'd seen moments before– it was a pair of combat boots tightly tucked with gray camouflage pants. The camera tilted upward to reveal...

TO BE CONTINUED... IN "CARPY & THE CAP'N PART III: SEASON OF THE WITCH"...

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Film Review: HALLOWEEN III- SEASON OF THE WITCH (1982, Tommy Lee Wallace)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 98 minutes.
Tag-line: "..and now the earth will run with blood again!"
Notable Cast or Crew: Tom Atkins (THE FOG, NIGHT OF THE CREEPS, LETHAL WEAPON), Dan O'Herlihy (TWIN PEAKS SEASON 2, ROBOCOP), Stacey Nelkin (THE JERK TOO, BULLETS OVER BROADWAY), Michael Currie (THE DEAD POOL, DEAD & BURIED), Ralph Strait (THE BEASTMASTER), Joshua John Miller (TEEN WITCH, RIVER'S EDGE), Essex Smith (CUTTER'S WAY, STIR CRAZY), and a vocal cameo by Jamie Lee Curtis. Music by John Carpenter and Alan Howarth. Produced by John Carpenter, Debra Hill, and Moustapha Akkad. Cinematography by Dean Cundey (THE THING, JURASSIC PARK). Special Effects by Jon G. Belyeu (EXTERMINATOR 2, THE GOONIES, TANGO & CASH).
Best one-liner: "I do love a good joke and this is the best ever: a joke on the children."

Judging this movie as a legitimate sequel to HALLOWEEN would be like judging FRANKENFISH as a sequel to JAWS. That being said, HALLOWEEN III is a surprisingly enjoyable dollop of Carpenter-Lite. Though collaborator Tommy Lee Wallace is credited as writer/director, even the non-fan can see Carpenter all over the place here. Now, I don't mean to presume anything about Mr. Wallace's authorship of the film, but, let's look at the facts- Carpenter produced. Carpenter did the music. Carpenter did an uncredited rewrite of the script. The cast and crew are populated with Carpenter cronies (and was even directed by one), including cinematographer Dean Cundey, who had already worked alongside Carpenter on five separate occasions. As such, calling this a "Carpenter film" is not exactly a stretch, and I'd go as far as to say it's essential viewing for not only Carpenter fans, but fans of 80's horror in general.

In terms of the backlash, clearly it revolves around the lack of Michael Myers; and, if you believe the urban legends, it resulted in crazed fans attacking the screen and demanding refunds, the likes of which hadn't been seen since the day Buñuel and Dali unveiled UN CHIEN ANDALOU. But you can't really blame Carpenter for trying to shake things up- he was disillusioned by the looming shadow of sequelitis, and, instead of endless riffs on the same, already tired, in fact, deceased (Michael Myers) motif, he envisioned a series of films which he could outsource/return to when he pleased, the only common link being that they took place on Halloween. Unfortunately, this didn't quite work out for him– HALLOWEEN III was a critical and financial failure. But allow me to present to you now twelve reasons why HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH is worth watching:

#1. Carpy's synthesized scare-twangs. Used to great effect in ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, there's so many of them here, it's as if a 5-year old hopped-up on smack was let loose at the sound board during post. The word 'insane' doesn't even begin to describe it.

#2. The theft of Stonehenge, pixelated pumpkin graphics, black-gloved killers, eye-gouging, skull-crushing, and a man setting himself on fire. And all in the first 15 minutes! No, this wasn't made by Italians. And, believe me, the lunacy is by no means confined to the first quarter-hour:



And I like the way he wipes those gloves on the curtains.

#3. Babe magnet Tom Atkins.

In Carpenter films (i.e. this, THE FOG), eligible young ladies are drawn to Mr. Atkins like moths to a flame.


They fight being consumed with desire for his sheer perfection, but in the end, they fall like so many waifish, smitten dominoes. Umm....what?! Not to knock Tom Atkins. I mean, I like Tom Atkins. I like him A LOT. But I don't think he should reside in Plato's cave as the quintessence of the male specimen. Atkins even gets a bare ass shot here. I have two words for you, Carpy: 'MAN CRUSH?'

#4. Tom Atkins' alcoholism. Tom Atkins plays Dr. Challis, an alcoholic... I guess. I suppose he probably drinks too much, but it's not exactly a textbook case Evidently the novelization delves deeper into his dipsomania, but I've yet to read it for myself. In lieu of nuanced characterization, however, HALLOWEEN III offers a few brilliant surface elements which would seem to suggest problem drinking. For example, characters say lines like "Sierra Mesa still makin' you drink your ass off?," he requires a sixer of Miller High Life before leaving for a road trip:

Then, despite still having the sixer, upon arriving in Santa Mira, he expresses his intentions to obtain more alcohol before it gets too late (for the record, it's like 5:00 PM):

And then later, after having obtained said hooch, he sighs with disdain when a homeless man inquires whether or not he could have a sip from his bottle:


#5. And why not- in a trifecta of sheer Tom Atkins panache: the way that he emotes.


And we're not talking 'bad acting' or 'poor directing' or any of that jazz. It's a return to a more demonstrative mode of expression, and I like it. (See also: the original TWILIGHT ZONE series.)

#6. Finally a movie that villainizes the Irish as a race. And I love that in their evil little Irish town, it's just a lot of nondescript buildings with freshly painted signs that say things like "Shamrock Savings Bank" or "Dublin Inn."




Let the Irish lilts commence!

#7. In the tradition of police state announcements in ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK (Debra Hill) and the automated chess game in THE THING (Adrienne Barbeau), Carpy gives Jamie Lee Curtis a voice cameo as the dystopian voice of Santa Mira which encourages its residents to follow the curfew and restrict their activities to indoors after dark.


#8. The villain's motive- he really just wants Halloween to be taken SERIOUSLY again. Well, this movie is certainly the perfect vehicle for that sentiment.

ZAPPPP!

#9. Dan O'Herlihy. Maybe you remember him as the 'Old Man' in ROBOCOP, 'Grig' in THE LAST STARFIGHTER, or as 'Andrew Packard' on TWIN PEAKS. He's an unbridled, intense, exquisite Irishman and one of the best character actors of the 1980's.

When he reads a line, he's not doing it for a paycheck, or just to get to the next, more important line– his eloquence is in the moment, and as such, he lives for every last fiendish syllable.

As the final act of HALLOWEEN III slides into James Bond territory, he carefully takes us from point A to B to C with spiffy menace and practical jokery. It's solid stuff.


#10. Dean Cundey's genius cinematography. The man is talented. And even as a Carpenter apologist par excellence, I would say that he submits imagery that perhaps outshines the material, channeling a little Tonino Delli Colli here and a little Dick Bush there, to great effect.



It's fantastic.

#11. The Silver Shamrock TV ads.

You could make a drinking game of this at your own risk. Regardless, they're cloyingly asinine, set to the tune of "London Bridge is Falling Down," and, depending on how you choose to count 'em, play between 15 and 20 times throughout! Some things you just gotta see for yourself.

They even drive Tom Atkins to drink:




#12. The abrupt, nutty, 100% Carpenter-style finale that's extremely and apocalyptically satisfying.


-Sean Gill

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