I think that for a certain generation of cinephile when one thinks of Halloween movies they think of a few specific things. Firstly, an eighties synth score; nothing says seasonal Halloween film like a taut, aggressive synth track. Secondly, big wooden television sets and shag carpets (signifiers of our childhood). Lastly, garish rubber masks of monsters, demons, witches and phantoms. Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) has all of these different ingredients in great abundance, making it the ideal film for a nostalgic Halloween night.
On this, what is hopefully the last Halloween of the Trump administration, one would be hard pressed to find a more relevant movie villain than Conal Cochran (Dan O’Herlihy). Like Trump, Cochran manipulates capitalist interest to exploit and control the public towards his own megalomaniac ends. Cochran hates children, he hates autonomy, he hates anyone who isn’t Irish and he loathes sentiment. Cochran’s ideologies are so in sync with the Republican doctrine of this moment it’s downright chilling. Luckily for us though, Cochran is just a character in a movie.
Tommy Lee Wallace is great at sustaining suspense in his direction. Even when Halloween III segues into a dead end subplot he manages to imbue his film with a consistent energy. It’s as much an adventure film as it is a horror film, and it even sprinkles in a touch of science fiction for good measure. Wallace’s vision for his chapter in the aborted anthology approach to the Halloween franchise is like a more grounded imagining of Giulio Paradisi’s The Visitor (1979).
The image of the original theatrical one-sheet for Halloween III is forever etched in my mind as the definitive representation of trick-or-treating. And I think that suggests the intent of the film. Halloween III isn’t so much about story, it’s about evoking the fantasies a young person has about Halloween. The film’s narrative is just the structure on which to hang these juvenile spectacles on; to give them form and urgency.
In this way Halloween III is the total antithesis to Debra Hill and John Carpenter’s original Halloween (1978). Halloween was all about plot, character, and finely cut sequences designed to evoke the fundamental and primal fears of the dark, of strangers, and of being alone. It’s their juxtapositions, between Halloween and Halloween III, that make them perfect companion pieces and a killer (pun intended) double feature.
