Director David Gordon Green, two terrible Halloween films in now, has proven beyond any shadow -- or should I say Shape -- of a doubt that he has absolutely no concept of what it is that makes Michael Myers scary. His Michael Myers, which he's strained to tie back to John Carpenter's sleek (and still scary!) version so hard that every string has snapped, is a marauder -- a tornado of blunt force trauma. Green mistakes brutality for creeping terror at every opportunity. He's closer to what Rob Zombie had in mind, which was to my mind the previous nadir for the series -- I have begun to think I should revisit the Zombie films after watching what Green's done! At least Zombie tried to reshape the Shape in his own albeit terrible image -- Green is trying to bridge both, but splitting his pants goofball-style in the process. This is good for nobody.
Halloween Kills is a disaster on every level. Not a single character is worth caring about the way Green showcases them. They are all, up to and including the queen Laurie Strode herself, assholes who behave ridiculously, stupidly, hatefully. There's a long subplot here that goes absolutely nowhere about mob-rule -- about Michael being an inflection point for terror that turns good people into monsters. We know this because Green and Danny McBride's startlingly inept script has a character say exactly that. "We're the monsters now." Along with what I think were supposed to be several "cheer" lines, where a another character says something like, "Michael... you came home." Like, that's on the poster, y'all! Wow! My mind is blown!
But the characters we've seen in Green's two films? I don't care about these people. I don't care about this Laurie Strode. I certainly don't care about her ridiculous daughter or even worse granddaughter. I sure as hell don't care about Tommy, the little boy from the 1978 grown up and recast into Anthony Michael Hall doing his best tomato-faced harridan routine, leading the gang of townie thugs on their mission to hunt Michael down. (Oh and Hall does some of the the most condescending and embarrassing "I am now talking to black people" behavioral changes ever captured on-screen, which I still haven't pinned down whether that was in character or not, but if it is in character -- all the reason less to give a shit about this Tommy!)
So while that sideshow about vigilante justice spins its wheels saying nothing Michael Myers rampages through town, killing entire packs of firefighters and townspeople in choreographed fight scenes straight out of a Kill Bill film (well a lesser, shittier-choreographed Kill Bill film anyway) making one wonder where and when Michael picked up all these moves. Will the third film have a flashback training montage to Michael's crazy doctor making him carry buckets of water up and down gigantic flights of stairs and catch flies with chopsticks? I wouldn't be surprised -- Green & McBride love to drop fart bombs of laugh-less humor into the middle of their gore-fest. (If I had to say one nice thing about the film I would give props to the gore, which is extremely convincing and well-executed.)
This entire film is one long wheel-spin until the promised, nay threatened, final film in Green's trilogy, the already titled Halloween Ends, and it's entirely possible that Green has in mind an ending that will satisfy some of the questions he asks, with the precision of an axe to the face, here. But in the meantime what the fuck am I supposed to do with this embarrassingly inept and seemingly pointless movie I just sat through? The two hours I just wasted of my life watching Jamie Lee Curtis roll around on a hospital mattress while packs of wilding med students go shrieking up and down the hallways and somewhere out there Michael Myers is pirouetting in a kiddie park, pulling Season of the Witch masks out of his ass like magic tricks? I know what the Shape is, and the Shape is oblong turdish.