Tuesday, 28 October 2025

Halloween III - Season of the Witch (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1982)

Following a bizarre murder, Dr Dan Challis (Tom Atkins) follows the dead man’s daughter (Stacey Nelkin) to the Silver Shamrock company in Santa Mira. 


What they uncover is a sinister conspiracy to turn Halloween into a bloodbath.


Can our heroes save the world before it is too late?



"Why, Cochran, why?"


"Do I need a reason?


While I watched Halloween II fairly quickly after the original, I had no interest in diving into the series. Halloween never seemed refillable as a concept. Over the years, I caught a few entries (see the related links below). They all have their moments, but all they did was reinforce my feelings toward the 1978 original.


After watching Halloween II and Season of the Witch, it drove home how key simplicity is to horror.


On paper Halloween’s story falls apart.


But thanks to Carpenter’s focus on what he wants to show you, you do not question why there are no parents around, or Dr Loomis' incredibly suspect diagnosis of his patient.


Halloween II tried to explain the central concept of the Shape.


Meanwhile Halloween III is just way too complicated, in terms of motives, stakes and world-building, to be effective as a horror movie.


Not that it is not worth watching. Halloween II is trying to bottle lightning. Season of the Witch is trying to conjure up a new bottle. 


Part of its appeal is the sense of unfinished business. It is the promise of a future not taken.

Weirdly, despite its over-ambitious plotting, Season of the Witch feels more cohesive than Halloween II, at least in terms of atmosphere. 

It is probably as inconsistent as a scare production machine.

The opening is almost great - a man running through the darkness from an unseen threat.

Once the threat is revealed, it starts to feel contrived: this man escapes strangulation by pulling the stock out from a car.

The automatons in this movie should be great - anonymous men in dark suits - but something about them never read quite right.

This might be a question of taste.

When I think of killer robots, my baseline is The Terminator and Westworld - they look human but they move with smoothness and with no personality whatsoever. There is something uncanny about those performances.

In Halloween III, the robots have almost too much character.

It is small things: a robot wiping its hands clean after the first murder; the same robot closing its eyes before pouring gasoline over itself; the way the robot stumbles while fighting Dr Challis in the factory.

It all reads a little sloppy.

The big problem comes back to the script: apparently original scribe Nigel Kneale (Quartermass) left over creative differences and Carpenter himself stepped in to re-write it.

There is something rushed about the story.

The villain's lack of clear motivation, and the diffuse nature of his scheme (how do timezones factor in?) does not help with the stakes.

Dan O'Herlihy brings a real sense of menace as the villain, but it is diffused by the script’s lack of clarity.

Our central couple also feel like sketches rather than fleshed-out people. Atkins and Nelkin have decent chemistry but it also feels like we do not have enough time to get to know them.

Because we do not care about the characters, the shock reveal that Nellie is a machine is just another random plot point.

It also feels like the film writes itself into a corner once Cochran’s plot, such as it is.

It is too easy for Challis to escape and his showdown with Cochran lacks any kind of catharsis.

The movie also feels like it does not have enough budget for its ambitions. With its hidden layer and global threat, the film comes across like a low-budget version of a James Bond movie. 

This is going to come across as contradictory but while the movie does not work, it has ba atmosphere and weirdness that is compelling.

The performances are good, Dean Cundey’s photography milks atmosphere out of every frame, and John Carpenter and Alan Howarth’s score gives the movie its singular heartbeat.

If Carpenter had directed it, maybe its flaws could have been overlooked or side-stepped. Maybe.

 As is, it is a fascinating what if.


Related







If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour

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If you enjoy something I wrote, and want to support my writing, here’s a link for tips!

Halloween II (Rick Rosenthal, 1981)

The Shape lives.

After fleeing his showdown with Dr Loomis (Donald Pleasance), Michael Myers (Dick Warlock) follows Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) to the hospital where she is convalescing.

The night he came home is not over yet...


Halloween is one of my favourite movies. I have nothing to write about it.

Since it is Halloween season, I wanted to check out something in the family tree. So if not the original, why not the younger sibling.

It has been a few years since I watched it. 

I first watched a crappy cut recorded off the TV. The rough transfer ended up being a bonus, although even at the time I remember being put off by the inconsistent pacing and vague sense of redundancy.

Halloween II is a perfect case study in the difference between filmmakers tackling the same subject matter.

The shift from the re-used ending of the original to the opening of Halloween II is tangible.

Even though it’s Dean Cundey behind the camera and John Carpenter scoring, you can feel the difference.

The shot section and blocking lack Carpenter’s sense of precision and control.

Even the scenes Carpenter added lack the magic of that first film. There is a blunt functionality to the kills, but these brief additions only provide momentary jumps.

Michael is more visible in Halloween than you remember but he is kept at a distance or on the edge of the frame. At a distance, the mask is less identifiable, and more uncanny.

In Halloween II, he is more visible and more the centre of the frame.

The scene where Michael sneaks into Alice’s home while she talks to a friend on the phone feels like it could have come out of the original (it was also directed by Carpenter himself), but there is something rough and unsatisfying about it.

There are a couple of reasons why.

Michael is so close to the camera when he enters the room behind Alice, it starts to feel theatrical, like a farce about cheating lovers, rather than scary.

Another reason might have to with Dick Warlock’s more deliberate movements in performance, which turn Michae into more of an automaton.

It is not ineffective, but in scenes like this you miss the more fleet-footed Nick Castle. 

Fundamentally, because the mystery of his appearance has been defused by the previous movie, Michael is robbed of his mystique.

The additional backstory is hackneyed, and his inability to die ruins any tension.

There is also none of the malicious prankster quality that Myers had in the first movie.

Michael is now just a bland killing machine - a Terminator with less personality.

Once Michael is at the hospital, the film picks up. 

With the focus on a single location, and a smaller cast, Michael 2.0, the human battering ram, works. 

The filmmaking also becomes more assured - the shot of Michael reflected in the wing mirror, as he arrives at the hospital; the POV shot as Michael tracks a nurse through a window in the baby incubator room; the shot of Michael walking down a corridor, shown on CCTV.

The film seems to figure out how to recreate Michael’s menace in a new location.

The set-pieces are blunter, but effective - Michael’s attack on the lovers in the therapy room is the most basic of slasher premises (people have sex and die).

One particularly effective scene is the the death of the nurse after she discovers the Doctor murdered in his office - Michael slowly appearing out of the darkness behind her is one of the few times this film evokes the original.

The hospital is a great location but it is also a weakness - it is so large you cannot help wondering why there are not more people. It is also hard to get a sense of geography.

There are elements of the storytelling that feel contrived to bring the story more in line with the original.

Potential saviour/love interest Lance Guest slips in a puddle of blood and knocks himself out.

When the film turns into a chase through the bowels of the hospital it is working - that mask looks great under flashing emergency lights. 

It becomes less effective when the filmmakers repeat the setpiece, by having Laurie and Loomis flee from Michael through the hospital. 

Blinded Michael’s frenzied swiping at Laurie is unsettling, but the air is out of the movie at this point.

It misses the haiku-like simplicity of the original, but I kinda like Halloween II

This is on the level of a Friday the 13th movie - it is meant to be enjoyed and forgotten.

The characters are not as vivid. And it lacks the original’s sense of humour. But as a cookie cutter slasher, it does the business.

Dean Cundey’s work as cinematographer is a major asset, while Carpenter’s familiar score, now in a more bass-heavy iteration, remains enormously effective. It is probably a significant reason why the movie remains as atmospheric as it is.

Related





If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour

You can subscribe on Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.


If you enjoy something I wrote, and want to support my writing, here’s a link for tips!

Bullet to Beijing: Harry Palmer Returns

On the latest episode of The James Bond Cocktail Hour podcast, Harry Palmer returns to the small screen in 1995's Bullet to Beijing.


Check out the episode at the link below:



























Edge of Darkness: Compassionate Leave

Edge of Darkness: Into the Shadows

Edge of Darkness: Burden of Proof

Edge of Darkness: Breakthrough

Edge of Darkness: Northmoor 

Edge of Darkness: Fusion





















If you enjoy something I wrote, and want to support my writing, here’s a link for tips!   Bullet to Beijing

Monday, 27 October 2025

Black Sabbath (Mario Bava, 1963)

A trio of horror tales:

A young woman (Michèle Mercier) is tormented by phone-calls from a stalker...

A nobleman (Mark Damon) finds his fate intertwined with a family beset by a vampire...

After stealing a dead woman's ring, a nurse (Jacqueline Pierreuxis tormented by unseen drops of water...


A portmanteau of scary stories, Black Sabbath stands out for having no real weak links - one segment was the standout on this viewing, but I can see that changing very quickly.


First up we have The Telephone. In contrast to the gothic stylings of the other segments, this story is a contemporary tale of psychosexual obsession and murder.


One can see it as an early version of a giallo - the genre of murder mysteries where murder, the act and its motives, overtook any attempt at mystery. 


The short film is also rife with the themes that Bava and other giallo practitioners would build on: psychosexual obsession; the destruction of beauty, which would return in Blood and Black Lace. In a more overt, and probably less intentional choice, when the culprit behind the phone calls makes their appearance, they are wearing black gloves - a signature of the giallo's villains.


While less overtly violent than the genre would become, the implication of violence is coded throughout, and in decidedly intimate terms (our heroine is almost strangled to death in her bed). 


Following on from Black Sunday and Hercules in the Haunted World, the film plays with the idea that appearances can be deceiving - it turns out Rosy’s old lover Mary (Lydia Alfonsi) has been behind the threatening phone calls. While her motive is selfish rather than malicious, Mary's actions reveal a disturbing willingness to exploit her beloved's trauma (her previous heterosexual partner is imprisoned for murder).  


Ironically as Mary prepares to confess her guilt, she is murdered by her romantic rival, who has escaped from prison and is determined to enact a blood revenge against his former beau.


Claustrophobic and tense, The Telephone is a neat little thriller which was sliced into incoherence by the American distributor, out of fear about the homosexual couple at its centre.


Maybe the best segment of the triptych, at least the most memorable, The Vurdulak is a return to the gothic tableau of Black Sunday, more so than Hercules.  


The clearly artificial exteriors make this feel more like a nightmare, turning the entire diegesis into an extension of slowly constricting dread of the home.


Boris Karloff is magnificent as the freshly turned patriarch Gorka, leering at his family like fresh kill. His understated menace is well-played, keeping the viewer and hsi family off-edge as they try to work out if Gorka managed to kill the vampire without himself becoming a victim. 


Gorka is terrifyingly ambivalent - he guilts his family into lowering their guard, but he also seems determined to keep his family together 


The destruction of the family is a primal fear, and the film exploits it to the hilt. Rather than presenting Gorka as a monster, he is presented as he is. No fangs or red eyes. 


The power he has, and that he preys upon, is familial ties. The family may distrust him but they are unable to give up their love for each other. When the youngest child goes missing, his mother - Gorka’s daughter - kills her husband in order to leave the house and find him. 


Perversely, the film ends with the family reunited, and the central lovers joined together - as members of the undead.


Taking up the lionshare of the runtime, The Vurdulak is fantastic. Even with the Italian dub, Boris Karloff delivers a subtly disturbing performance as the superficially homely Gorka.


And now to A Drop of Water, the finale. 


Once again confined to one intimate living space, A Drop takes away all externals - no supporting players, no villains, for an intimate tale of one woman’s descent into madness.


I found this one to be not nearly as effective as ‘The Telephone’. The Drop of Water would probably work better on the big screen. While the other segments contained more scenes and characters, A Drop of Water is a one-woman show, and it suffers from being viewed on a laptop screen. 


In the immersive confines of a theatre, free of distractions, it probably works great. The finale is so spectacular it retroactively made me like it more - but I feel like the viewing experience robbed it of its potency.


With the emphasis on hyperreal sound design, the titular drop becomes an increasingly nasty punchline, as the nurse storms about her home, trying to find the mysterious leak. 


The make up of the dead woman is memorable - and just extreme enough to be unnerving, while the theme - an obsession with wealth, and its destructive potential - is one Bava would return to again and again.


After immersing us so thoroughly, Black Sabbath ends on a familiar Bava note - revealing what we have been seeing was something else. 


Karloff is shown riding on a horse. As he offers a final spectral warning, the camera pulls back to reveal he is riding a dummy in front of a rolling screen while crew members run past the camera with branches.


Breaking the forth wall with a joke, Bava shows his hand, his mastery of the frame.


Related


Hercules in the Haunted World


If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour

You can subscribe on Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.


If you enjoy something I wrote, and want to support my writing, here’s a link for tips!