Saturday, May 18, 2024

Halloween II (2009)

I had no memory of watching Rob Zombie's Halloween II, the sequel to the 2007 remake. I could swear I'd seen it before—twice, by my estimation. I purchased the Unrated DVD edition in 2010, and I could find it opened on my shelf. This suggested I had given it a watch back in the day. Tonight, I got the urge to screen the film, and from the opening credits, it felt unfamiliar, save for the faintest traces of what protagonist Laurie Strode looked like, strung out in the aftermath of witnessing brutal murders by Michael Myers. After the first hour, I had serious doubts I'd seen the film twice, let alone once. Perhaps I fell asleep the first time I attempted to watch it. This also puzzles me. The film turns out to be one of the most compelling in the franchise on account of its complex characterization, hypnagogic visuals, and thoroughgoing storytelling. These combine to make it one of the most interesting cinematic experiences the Halloween franchise has to offer.

The principal characters in Halloween II are not hollow slasher movie victims-in-waiting. The film centers upon Laurie, charting her transformation from the bookish, bespectacled high-schooler of the first film to the haggard, gloomy alt-girl who survived the murders and shot the killer. Between her therapy sessions, flashbacks, and assorted freak-outs, we see the very real PTSD that would be inevitable for anyone who survived the kinds of events documented in slasher films. We also see the aftermath for Annie, who survives Michael Myers' attack in the first film (unlike in the original John Carpenter continuity). Annie and her father, Sheriff Bracket (played by Child's Play legend Brad Dourif), have taken Laurie into their home, helping her through her breakdowns and attempting to provide some semblance of family life. Annie's pain is also very real, not only on account of having been scarred by Myers, but also from living with Laurie's constant anguished outbursts. Laurie feels inexorable guilt for what happened to Annie, and Annie must constantly convince Laurie it's not her fault. These factors deepen the psychological fault-lines, the kind that were only superficial in previous Halloween offerings. Dr. Loomis, meanwhile, the psychologist (psychiatrist in the prior continuity) responsible for Michael's care, has become something of a diva, profiting off sales and speaking engagements related to his book documenting the murders. Played by Malcolm McDowell, his venality raises the question of whether or not he'll do the right thing in the end and do something to prevent further slaughter.

Michael Myers' own motivations remained vague at best in the prior Halloween films. But in the unrated version of the Zombie sequel, the visual representation of his motivators makes for some of the most compelling imagery ever to appear in a Halloween film. Myers is haunted—or better yet guided—by the spirit of his deceased mother in a white gown leading a white horse. The horse, we are told by a rather heavy-handed epigraph, is a symbol of emotional release. Also accompanying Myers' mother is Myers in child form. Together, they advise the mute Michael on his journey through the film, orchestrating his reunion with Laurie, whom we the audience know, based on the first film and the earlier franchise lore, to be his sister. The appearance of these specters and symbols throughout Halloween II gives the film decidedly surrealistic and even Lynchian qualities. I would not have expected as much from a Halloween film; perhaps in oscillating between sleep and waking in my first viewing, I assumed I was dreaming all along.

In charting the mental and physical journey of Michael Myers, the unrated cut of Halloween II goes places no other Halloween film goes before, providing the kinds of interstitial storytelling we could only speculate upon in the previous films. Throughout the film, we see Michael trekking through fields and forests to reunite with Laurie. Surely he made such treks in prior films, but we were only ever left to imagine the logistics. On the way, Myers has neither his typical work-suit, nor his iconic mask. Rather, we see a massive bearded man, his face veiled only by long hair and a hood. He seems like something out of high fantasy, perhaps an itinerant barbarian guided my ancestor spirits. This is not the shadowy Michael Myers who has persisted throughout the series. Rather, he is out in the open. As the climax approaches, his face is shown on multiple occasions. He actually sort of looks like a steroidal Rob Zombie. Whatever the case, the horror baddie who travelled between shadows has been brought out into the light.

Here's what a Barbarian Michael Myers might properly look like

And this, no doubt, provides the main failing of the film for diehard fans of the series. Less has always been more with Halloween. Until this film (and, to an extent, the Zombie film that preceded it), Michael Myers has been a blank slate. The viewer had only the bare bones of his background. The man behind the mask was left almost wholly ambiguous, as were his motivations, and that's what informed the horror, to a large degree. The fact that an unstoppable killing machine could stalk victim after victim for no particularly good reason was a bottomless reservoir of terror. With Halloween II, that mystique is gone. We see the nuts and bolts of Michael's lunacy, and we have a good sense of his every move when he's not killing. This, undoubtedly, alienated some fans, who surely brayed that "this isn't our Michael Myers!" (I'm not even going to Google that so as to get a direct quote—I have a good enough sense of internet fan culture to know for certain that this was the criticism.)

This, however, is not a major flaw in the film, to my mind. Rob Zombie's reboot was committed to reimagining the series, and he delivered. That said, the film has plenty of other faults that keep it from being a classic. The film starts to lose focus around the three-quarter mark when, in the aftermath of learning the traumatic truth about her relationship to Myers, Laurie has a breakdown and then, on the spur of the moment, decides to go to a Halloween party. Why would Laurie be in the mood to party? And how often does a party scene with a live concert actually serve to the benefit of a movie? Rarely, if ever. It certainly does not work here. In typical fashion, the director gets distracted by the band and the (nude) dancing girls and the random MC who takes the mic and starts telling jokes. And it's Rob Zombie directing, so he gets doubly distracted and spends way too much time gazing on this Halloween rockabilly concert. As with most every party scene, it takes the viewer out of the movie.

Still, this is not enough, in my view, to write off the whole movie as a failure. I will not cast off the Halloween II unrated cut as utter crap, as so many others have (cf. The Halloweenies podcast on this film, which I've heretofore not listened to; nonetheless, they've referenced the Zombie films negatively in prior analyses, so it's safe to assume they shat all over this one). The concluding scene offers climactic surrealism, blurring the lines of hallucination and diegetic goings-on. In the final shots, Zombie makes a bold move with all the principal characters (the kind that, spoiler alert, typifies some of his other films), making the ending particularly memorable. Again, I'm shocked I didn't remember it the first time—again, a likely symptom of having fallen asleep. The film is definitely worth another watch, and this time I won't be waiting fourteen years before I fire up Halloween II again.