David Gordon Green
Halloween

And so, forty years later, Michael is back. Another escape, a new return to the small, original Haddonfield.

Everything that happened in the meantime, from narrative twists to remakes, has been promptly and convincingly removed. Thus, the forced storylines that made the saga's history, like the improbable familial ties between Michael and Laurie, have been eliminated, even disavowed and renounced. These storylines, which had dragged on from the second chapter and through to Zombie's films, were removed. Any attempt to humanize the Boogeyman has been eliminated, attempts offered by Zombie with results ranging from mediocre to poor (although some appreciated them, but in my opinion, they were overrated). Attempts to humanize the monster showed a desire to give a personal touch without too reverently following the original model which on one hand, was commendable, yet on the other, partially stripped away the essence of Myers: Michael is pure Evil, with nothing in his eyes, acting out of blind, primordial ferocity, an insatiable bloodthirstiness without psychoanalytic reasons, childhood traumas, abandonment, or the like. He simply answers the call to action, like the ignition of a sacred fire of cruelty, best exemplified during the time of year when it all began with Judith's murder. He is kept alive, even in captivity, chained, observed closely, harboring everything silently for decades due to his predatory nature and awareness of it.

This is the greatest merit of this operation, of this new sequel helmed by an eclectic director like David Gordon Green and the screenwriters: bringing Michael, and in this, the return of the original actor Nick Castle adds an additional suggestion, back to his dark purity.

Otherwise, the film doesn’t offer anything new in terms of genre film structure, which remains rather traditional in essence, not daring too much in particular auteur diversions (considering the results obtained by Zombie mentioned above, this is not a negative). The insipid characters gradually exterminated before the final climax remain in their place among the many other designated victims. Yet despite this, it is not a simple average product. Excluding a few remarkable exceptions like the remakes of Evil Dead by Alvarez and The Hills Have Eyes by Aja, both not revolutionary but noteworthy, in comparison to the (quantitatively) varied world of sequels, more or less apocryphal or official (I still have the nonsense of the recent Leatherface in my eyes...) , among remakes/reboots/sequels of remakes and reboots of classics, Halloween 2018 is above average. From a stylistic point of view, surely, at least with some remarkable flourishes.

By all means: nothing that cries miracle, some tonal drops and over-the-top twists are present (such as the one concerning Michael's doctor, the "heir" of the unforgettable and iconic Loomis); the tributes (the opening credits are beautiful!) and nods are sometimes blatant. In a few moments, they almost remind me of the sequel to Trainspotting. Another comeback after many years. But whereas there was extensive discourse on the nostalgia of lost time and cyclic occurrences, here there is neither nostalgia nor anything akin. Just a memory, déjà vu. In preparation for the moment of the (eternal) return or by reason of a role reversal. Even if this may not be anything original, it still proves effective in the economy of the narrative.

The violence, though still brutal, is, as with Carpenter (and the other slasher master Hooper...), more suggested and hinted rather than displayed for the voyeuristic consumption of the viewer. No pornography of death, in short.

Overall, it is a work that does not disappoint expectations, acknowledging the obvious impossibility of replicating, or even "updating" (a dire and terrible trend from which, thank heavens, D.G. Green keeps away by avoiding the temptation of invoking social media and other modern trivialities, as in the remakes of Carrie or the still essentially enjoyable Death Wish by Roth) the genius and impact of Carpenter's masterpiece.

In the end, what one asks, the final essence of the whole, is this: Is it still possible to believe in the Boogeyman, a metaphysical, universal, and practically, inexplicably immortal symbol of the incarnation of Evil and not just a simple psychopathic serial killer? But more importantly, in today’s world where, compared to the random killing of a few babysitters "there's much worse", is it still possible to be fascinated and impressed by a character like Michael Myers? To make such a story interesting without pointless sociological nonsense like those mentioned above? David Gordon Green's answer, and my personal one, is Yes.