Evil finds its way home.
Year of Release: 2002
Running Time: 94 minutes (1:34)
Director: Rick Rosenthal
Jamie Lee Curtis ... Laurie Strode
Bianca Kajlich ... Sara Moyer
Busta Rhymes ... Freddie Harris
Katee Sackhoff ... Jen
Sean Patrick Thomas ... Rudy
Daisy McCrackin ... Donna
Luke Kirby ... Jim
Thomas Ian Nicholas ... Bill
Ryan Merriman ... Myles Barton
Tyra Banks ... Nora
Brad Loree ... Michael Myers
The reality programmers at DangerTainment have selected Rudy, Bill, and a group of thrill-seeking teenagers to spend one fun-filled night in the childhood home of serial killer Michael Myers. But the planned live broadcast turns deadly when their evening of excitement becomes a night of horror as Michael himself decides to crash the party!
Halloween: Resurrection, remindin' us that followin' Michael Myers into the laundry room'll getcha killed so fast it'll make your head spin.
An speakin' of things goin' out with a whimper, I think we've prolly experienced our last Halloween Sage Maze for the rest of recorded time - ain't no way the city council's gonna let us squirm outta this fiasco. Figures, too, since this was the first time I was actually able to convince Skunky Hernandez that havin' a roving band of wild troglodytes camped out in the maze waitin' to accost and/or eat his patrons might put a damper on his financial future.
I don't think I was quite that eloquent about it at the time though; actually, I think what I said was: "Skunky, you've been damn lucky thus far, but just who'dya think's gonna take the fall when one of them Atouks zug zugs somebody's teenage Lana or turns one of them creepy Sunday school kids into apostle pot pie?"
Shockingly, Skunky, in his own chromosomally challenged way had prepared for this possibility - "Relax see-see boy, I geet lawyer to make waivers thees year. Parents sign; keeds not my problem," he beamed, wavin' a stack of forms in front of my face.
"Gimme one of those," I said as I snatched an alleged "waiver" from his giddy paws. "Uh huh... yup... yeah, that's about what I figured. See, when you use the words 'due to any unforeseen circumstances,' that would imply you didn't expect anything to go wrong, which's gonna be a pretty tough sell considerin' these guys CAGED AN DECLARED THEIR INTENTIONS TO EAT TWO DOZEN CHILDREN LAST YEAR!" I explained as calmly as possible two inches from Skunky's face.
"Yeesh, who pees in jour Spaghettios thees morning?" he winced before finally acknowledgin' I might have a point.
"Gonna be dull without savages though," he mumbled after I'd cooled down a little.
"So put your cousins in fright masks an send 'em in there, or better yet - if you *really* wanna scare people, send 'em in *without* 'em," I offered on my way out the door.
I only had about a day to work with, an there was only one man I trusted to send the Wild Bunch packin' - Duke Tankersley. Well, actually I'm sure Tetnis coulda handled 'em too, but Tetnis generally expects monetary compensation, whereas Duke'll work for used auto parts. So once I'd pulled the grille off my rusted out '73 Volkswagen Thing an turned it over, Duke fetched his old hound dog, Gank, an the two of 'em located an ran our tribe of sasquatters clear over to Bearcrack Mountain just to be on the safe side. Not many guys could pull off that job, but Duke's what you might call frightening until you get to know 'im - after that he's just a little scary. Anyway, with that threat eliminated from the equation we opened up the Grime Time around 6 for our usual double feature before the festivities got under way an I threw House by the Cemetery, an I Eat Your Skin up on the screen while all the kids stuffed their faces with this god-awful concoction Juanita brewed up at the concession stand. Least *I* thought it was disgustin' anyway... well, you tell me - would you eat a bowl of nachos where the cheese'd been replaced with molten candy corn goo? Either way, we had kids runnin' around like meth addicts at a police raid til the credits rolled on I Eat Your Skin an Skunky finally started funnelin' all the little hell-spawn into the maze so their parents could take a minute to mash their forehead veins back into their skulls.
I'm a big enough man to admit Skunky had a point about the lack of excitement, cause those kids were definitely not impressed with our single freak of nature roamin' around the maze puttin' the spook on people; only thing that bothered me was the fact that Skunky hadn't hired anyone to work the inside of the maze, an what was really weird is how everybody who claimed to've seen the thing described it differently.
"It looked like a two-legged llama with wings an gonorrhea of the face," Harley Pankins explained.
"Nuh uh! It was more like a venus fly trap wearin' The Fonz' jacket an a fedora!" rebutted Jeannie Bigelow, an still another kid claimed it looked just like Ross Perot if he'd been partially digested an thrown up by a 40' anaconda.
"Skunky, what'n the hell're you tryin' to pull here?" I demanded. "Who the heck's in there?"
"You askeen me? You wuz spoz'to evict sagebillies, meejit," he reminded me.
"I did," grunted Duke, who'd been leanin' against an '85 Renault in the back row listenin' to the conversation. "That was yesterday; it'll take 'em at least a week to find their way back from where I left 'em - more if they ain't got a wifi connection."
"Musta missed one," Tetnis chimed in between chomps of his hot dog. "No big deal, I'll just go in an drag his carcass outta there," he concluded, slippin' his brass knuckles onto his fists.
"Gank and me don't miss," Duke squinted back at Tetnis like he was tryin' to decide which limb to rip off first.
Woulda been *real* interestin' to let those two fight it out, but this was neither the time or the place an people were startin' to ask questions about what their kids'd seen, so I felt it best to head the brawl off before it got started.
"Come on you guys, you're both very pretty barbarians, alright? Let's just go find out who's screwin' around in there an you can take turns beatin' the tar out of 'im." This was agreeable to all parties, so we headed into the maze while Skunky conducted a little PR with the gathering crowd.
Thing about the Sage Maze, though - it's goddamned huge, so naturally we made like stupid teenagers in a flick with the word "massacre" in the title an split up to find the turkey causin' all the trouble. Took 20 minutes of rootin' around in the pitch black, tick infested sage brush, but when I finally caught sight of it I knew exactly what it was an I couldn't hardly believe my eyes: The Chickawalka Stalka, local legend of the sewage lagoons, an scourge of Haystack Bend - looked just like Pumpkinhead, but with squid tentacles an more makeup than Tammy Faye Bakker tryin' to conceal Jim's spousal abuse. I was pretty spooked, but I knew I hadda investigate further - so I put on my game face, looked the Stalka right square in the eye, an bolted in the direction of the county library. Unfortunately I ended up back at the Grime Time an my studies were temporarily delayed when I was grabbed by the the scruff of my neck an forced to explain what I'd seen to Tetnis an Duke before they'd let go. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but I could tell by the way both men'd chewed their nails down to the 2nd knuckle that they were plum scared. Skunky, meanwhile, remained unconvinced.
"Okay, so thees one gone loco then. What you two pendejos see?" Skunky asked Duke an Tetnis.
"I ain't locomoted nowhere Skunky, it was the goddamned Stalker, I SAW IT," I insisted.
"Hadda be," Tetnis agreed, "but what I seen had an elephant's trunk, the skin of an armadillo, an hair like the guys from Poison, circa 1986," he declared.
"You guys've been in the Pole Cat again ain'tcha?" Duke looked at us incredulously. "No sir, it was part Teletubby, part tarantula, an had tits the size of Hindenburgs," Duke corrected, an of course by that time Deputy Mackle'd gotten wind of the situation an drove over from the church's Hell House to see what all the fuss was about.
"What's this I hear about boogermen in your field, Hernandez?" Mackle inquired in his best Joe Friday voice. "I got enough trouble with all these kids runnin' around town with 30 miles of toilet paper and sugar highs vergin' on demonic possession, I really don't need this right now."
"Beats heck outta me - people say there ees monster in maze and to 'beware sacrilege,' whatever that mean, probably just drunks though-" but that's as far as he got before Tetnis grabbed one arm an Duke the other an started pullin' like they were about to make a wish.
"I wouldn't go in there Mackle, seriously - I dunno where it came from, but it's weird an pissed off," I warned, but he went anyway. So we sat around waitin', expectin' 'im to come out draggin' some kid in a costume by the ear an ensurin' the lot of us became permanent laughing stocks, but it never happened. Matter of fact - he never came out at all.
I'm sure he's fine... prolly just got lost, right? I mean, that maze is a good five acres in size, plus it was dark - I'm sure he'll turn up tomorrow an we'll all have a good laugh about this down at the jail. Too bad I gotta spend my last night of freedom talkin' about THIS stinkburger an, ya know, I understand that what teenagers find entertainin' changes over the years, but any flick where a college bash is reduced to a room fulla kids watchin' Youtube quality reality shows when they could be smooshin' ass prints into the sofa an gettin' drunk enough to make the Supreme Court 40 years down the road is somethin' I just can't get behind. All the same, I'ma try to stay positive, an the first step in maintain' an optimistic outlook is sayin' somethin' nice about the stupid, watered-down, phony baloney flick in question, so just to show everyone I can be fair an impartial in the face of unflinching nostalgia rape, here're three things I learned watchin' Halloween 8. First, religious fanatics an Halloween sequels have at least one thing in common - they both purge the embarrassing portions of their histories. Second, if Busta Rhymes'd been Michael Myers' therapist instead of Donald Pleasence, Mike'd be a shriveled up weenie dialin' 1-900-MOM-JUGS every Saturday night an baggin' groceries for a living. An third, having witnessed the Rookie of the Year tryin' to get into the pants of Captain Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica, I now need Busta Rhymes' therapy. Seriously - I watched this thing two hours ago an I'm still not sure what's real anymore.
The movie begins in the quack shack where a new nurse has been added to the hospital staff as a convenient way of recountin' the events of H20 an clarifyin' that that sneaky Michael Myers swapped places with a paramedic before Jamie Lee Curtis sent his head rollin' on the river, thus explaining her residency in the Institute de Whackadoo, an Mike's roamin' of the S&M laundry dungeon beneath the sanitarium where he's choppin' the heads offa fat rent-a-cops an usin' 'em for dryer sheets. Needless to say after Jamie scored that star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame an never bothered to thank the guy who got 'er to the dance, Mike's royally hacked off, so he heads up to 'er room to get his 98lbs of flesh, only to discover she's been stashin' 'er Droolodan anti-psychotic meds in an old Raggedy Ann doll an playin' possum, an when he yanks back the blanket on 'er bed to finish the job she waffles 'im from behind with a foreign object. From there she leads 'im up to the roof an lures 'im into a coyote snare attached to an electric erector set crane so she can trash talk 'im while he's hangin' upside down like a dead duck in the window of a Chinatown eatery. She's about to cut 'im loose an piledrive 'im into the concrete like they're in a live action Roadrunner cartoon, only Mike starts playin' upside down charades an makin' these gestures like his neighbors've got a Village People's Greatest Hits album cranked up to 11, an pretty quick she starts flashin' back to the time she chopped the head offa the wrong dude an decides she'd better make sure she hasn't accidentally captured the stunt coordinator. Big mistake, cause the moment she goes for his mask he grabs 'er, stabs 'er, an slabs 'er onto the groundskeeper's immaculately groomed croquet lawn before givin' away his knife as a souvenir to some idiot savant who's been locked up for creepin' everybody out with his extensive knowledge of serial killer trivia.
Elsewhere, the next day, a coupla college girls find out they've been selected to star in a reality show set in the Myers House an start gettin' all excited about the 15 minutes of fame they hope'll get 'em invited to the Playboy mansion where they plan to latch onto a coupla minor league athletes so they'll have interesting stories to tell diners after they fade into obscurity an end up waitin' tables for a living. The kind souls helpin' 'em reach for the stars are Busta Rhymes an Tyra Banks, an they rig the six teenagers (Sara, Jen, Rudy, Jim, Bill, an Donna) up with these little toilet cams like the ones in the bathrooms at Japanese sushi restaurants so the geeks at home can channel surf between feeds like they're playin' Night Trap. Mike also seems to've signed on to participate, cause when next we see 'im it's from the perspective of his GoPro with a first person view of 'im stabbin' Busta's production assistant to death with a tripod spike like he's playin' Doom. Then Busta sends everyone inside the house so they can inadvertently film a documentary about the demise of cable television an rifle through Mike's personal belongings til he gets so P.O.'d that he hasta jam a kitchen knife into the skull of this tool who keeps tryin' to get Captain Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica (Jen) to pop 'er top. From there everyone pretty much stumbles around in the dark gettin' spooked by the cheesy props Busta's stashed for 'em to find while Jim an Donna sneak into the root cellar an start makin' the sign of the hydraulic skunk plunger til a pile of leftover skeletons from the Army of Darkness prop department come spillin' through the drywall an put an end to the dryhump. Jim is P.O.'d, though that's got less to do with said props scarin' Donna an takin' the broad outta his broadcast, an more with the fact that Busta's been yankin' his crank this whole time. But while he's climbin' outta the cellar to express his disgust with the special effects budget, Donna notices a hidden room behind the fake wall where Mike goes to get away from the paparazzi, an pretty quick Mike comes into view an impales 'er on the rusty gate he's erected to keep the Cult of the Thorn from sneakin' in an further damagin' his brand.
Next thing, Mike's upstairs tryin' to drag Sara off camera, only Jim shows up just in time to bludgeon 'im with a piano leg an Mike hasta break character an tell Tyra to cut the feed before the audience at home starts to lose its faith in the legitimacy of reality television. Big surprise - this Mike ain't Mike at all, it's Busta dressed up like the Wayans brothers in White Chicks to scare up some ratins. Now Busta's P.O.'d, an he'd like very much for Jim to drop the goddamned club an put his hands where his eyes could see so he can explain the "reality" behind reality TV an remind everybody that there's a big fat check for a full semester's worth of community college in it for 'em if they'll play along. Course, soon as Busta wanders off to find somebody else to scare, the real Mike shows up upstairs an slices the head clean offa Captain Starbuck an watches it roll down the stairs like a slinky an proceeds to slap the Kona Crusher on Jim while everyone's tryin' to figure out how somebody actually managed to make Jen's head look lifelike, an Mike ends up smooshin' Jim's brains out his nose. Mike's done screwin' around now an he don't like pretenders to his soiled mattress, but when he goes after Rudy the guy grabs a coupla steak knives an uncorks this samurai hibachi routine like those ninja chefs at Benihana's an Mike hasta fend 'im off til he can get ahold of his tools an tack Rudy to a door like an eviction notice at a crack house. Meanwhile, a buncha kids at a Halloween party who'd rather watch a lousy Twitch feed of dimwits in a haunted house than get drunk an make life altering mistakes like God intended are finally noticin' that the social experiment's gone haywire, so they start sendin' Sara text messages to warn 'er about Mike's whereabouts. Then Sara finds Busta on the 2nd floor where he starts makin' Jean-Claude Van Damme noises an kung fuin' the crap outta Mike while Sara wraps an extension cord around Mikey's neck so Busta can ninja kick 'im out the window an leave 'im swingin' like a suicidal Tarzan. I'm pretty tuckered out from tryin' to make this thing sound like a real movie, so I think I'ma stop right here. I'd say I don't wanna spoil the endin', but there ain't nothin' I can do to spoil this thing anymore'n it already is.
Alright Horror fans, raise your hands if you *also* enjoy reality TV... no one? Huh. You'd think the producers woulda shopped that concept around a little first before settling on it, but then, that's only if you assume these things are being made for Horror fans anymore. I guess that's not completely fair; there've been a handful of good flicks made after the turn of the century, although that number is pretty small in contrast to the sea of crapola. I think what really surprised me about this thing, having not watched it in 15 years, is how much worse it is in 2018 than it was when it first hit theaters, cause now it's not just an extremely obnoxious gimmick film - it's a period piece from one of the lousiest periods in American history. Now, I realize that most people consider whatever period they grew up in to be the "good ole days," but I honestly struggle with the idea of kids born in the early to mid '90s looking back on the 2000s with the same affection as people who grew up in the '50s - '90s. Maybe I'm wrong - maybe I'm just too old and crotchety to get it, maybe 23-year-olds look back on the decade that killed MTV and think: "yeah, Nokia dumb phones, Laguna Beach, and George W. Bush, THOSE were the days!" but I kinda doubt it. Either way, bringing an iconic Horror series and its characters into these modern technological times is pretty tough, and seldom results in a satisfactory experience for the fans who grew up with the earliest entries in any given series. Consider the big three in the slasher genre for instance and just look at what the new millennium has done to them: we got Jason X, Freddy vs. Jason, and Halloween: Resurrection, need I say more? Probably not, but I'm gonna anyhow. I think the worst thing about the decline of the genre is that, the more technologically advanced we become as a society, the more handicapped the filmmakers are before they even start brainstorming ideas, because the advent of the cell phone has done more damage to the genre than the MPAA ratings board in the 1980s. As time goes on we as a society become more prepared and capable in situations that would have historically put us in a bind, and even though sometimes our technology doesn't work perfectly when we need it to, the reality is that it *usually* does, and this reduces the plausibility of genuine danger in the mind of the audience. Civilization pretty much hasta crumble (28 Days Later), or twist itself into a conspiracy so complicated Sherlock Holmes couldn't unravel it (Saw) to produce a decent Horror flick these days, and that's a big part of why I loathe remakes so much, because what worked in 1978 or even 1995 probably isn't going to work now. Ash vs. Evil Dead being the exception that proves the rule - hail to the king, baby.
In any event, I'm startin' to get depressed thinkin' about Busta Rhymes chopsockyin' Michael Myers all over his home turf, so let's stuff one of them GoPros up the writer's hinder and see if we can't find his head. The plot isn't just unpalatable to those of us who grew up in the early days of the Halloween series - it's also canonically at odds with a lot of stuff that came before - sometimes out of necessity due to the lack of foresight involved in the making of H20. The thing that made the earliest movies in the series so good was that you don't really know why Michael Myers does what he does - he's just pure, concentrated evil, and he wants his family dead. I'm not even gonna bother harping on the fact that parts 4 - 6 are ignored starting with H20, but we've actually reached the point where Mike has become a chess wizard; always one step ahead of those silly screenwriters, because he's no longer just tryin' to kill Jamie Lee Curtis anymore, he's throwin' us curve balls - he's swappin' out the corpses of EMTs so he can live to fight another day, handin' off murder weapons to plausible suspects to cover his existence, and once he gets Jamie he couldn't give a shit less that Josh Hartnett's still runnin' around with Strode/Myers DNA. In short - this ain't Halloween anymore, it's "Boo! Haunted House!" guest starring Michael Myers, and it blows chunks. As for the acting, well, I guess there isn't really anything to harp on here performance-wise, because all the problems in this area stem from the script. To that point, Busta Rhymes is simultaneously the best and worst thing about the movie, because he's the only interesting character to be found anywhere in the cast, but also the most ridiculous. I suppose to be fair, they were kind of in a jam on this flick plot-wise, because they have to explain what happened with Jamie Lee Curtis after H20, but at the same time Curtis is just going through the motions because the script is garbage and there's only 15 minutes allotted for her story anyway, and that leaves just 75 minutes to tell a completely new story with new characters. So there's essentially no character development for anybody but Busta and Tyra (and even that's extremely minimal), so consequently you don't give a damn about anyone in the movie except maybe Busta cause he's the only one keepin' you awake (even if you don't like his performance, he's at least got some charisma). None of this would be a problem if it were a Friday the 13th sequel because we *expect* those characters to be cardboard representations of human beings, but the Halloween series has always done more with its characters, and this one just can't be bothered due to its structuring.
Here's who matters and why (less Busta Rhymes, Jamie Lee Curtis, an Tyra Banks): Brad Loree (The Blackburn Asylum, Lazarus: Apocalypse, X-Men 2, Them 1996, Timecop), Bianca Kajlich (Dark was the Night), Sean Patrick Thomas (Deep in the Darkness, The Burrowers, Dracula 2000), Daisy McCrackin (She Rises, House of Demons), Katee Sackhoff (Riddick, Oculus, 2036 Origin Unknown, The Haunting in Connecticut 2, The Last Sentinel, White Noise 2), Thomas Ian Nicholas (Nightmare Shark, Living Among Us, Trailer Park Shark), Ryan Merriman (Final Destination 3, The Jurassic Games, Independence Daysaster, Attack of the 50 Foot Cheerleader, The Ring 2), Gus Lynch (Willard 2003, Hellraiser 6), Lorena Gale (The Butterfly Effect, The Day the Earth Stood Still 2008, The X Files: I Want to Believe, Slither, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Fantastic Four, The Chronicles of Riddick, Deadlock 2, The Fly 2, Visiting Hours), Brent Chapman (Freddy vs. Jason, The Tooth Fairy, Replicant), Dan Joffre (Scary Movie, Jennifer's Body, TRON: Legacy), Haig Sutherland (Slither, Snowmageddon, Valentine), Brad Sihvon (White Noise, Severed, Scary Movie 4, Whisper 2007), Kelly Nielson (The Time Tunnel), Gary J. Tunnicliffe (Hellraiser 10, Pet, Dinoshark, Feast, Dracula III: Legacy, Mimic 3, Megalodon, Dracula 2000), Ryan McDonald (2012, He's Out There, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Charisse Baker (Nightmare 2007, Bloodsuckers 2005), Natassia Malthe (Lake Placid, Elektra, Vikingdom, Dragon's Rage, Black Box, In the Name of the King: Two Worlds, BloodRayne 2 & 3, Alone in the Dark II, Skinwalkers, Disturbing Behavior), Kyle Labine (Freddy vs. Jason, Ogre), Rick Rosenthal (Lost After Dark), David Lewis (Violentia, Hidden 2013, Man of Steel, Ghost Storm, Stonehenge Apocalypse, Zombie Punch, Wyvern, Possession 2008, The Day the Earth Stood Still 2008, Ba'al, Beyond Loch Ness, The Butterfly Effect 2, Alien Incursion, Lake Placid.
I'm sure you'll be shocked to learn that a flick with a reality TV themed plot made by a studio owned by Disney contains a slew of turncoat mainstreamers, so in case you were wonderin', here's the rap sheets of the people who jumped ship to entertain people with more discernin' tastes than us: Bianca Kajlich (Leslie on Undateable, Jennifer Morgan on Rules of Engagement), Sean Patrick Thomas (Ronald Clifford in Cruel Intentions, Det. Temple Page on The District), Katee Sockhoff (Victoria Maretti on Longmire, Dana Walsh on 24, Captain Kara Thrace on Battlestar Galactica), Luke Kirby (Jon Stern on Rectify), Thomas Ian Nicholas (Kevin Myers in American Pie 1 - 3, Henry Rowengartner in Rookie of the Year), Ryan Merriman (Young Jerod on The Pretender), Ryan McDonald (Brandon Fayette on Fringe).
The special effects are decent, and to the studio's credit - the movie isn't filled to the brim with terrible computer effects. Unfortunately, once Dimension acquired the rights to the Halloween franchise and started pumping out sequels, the effects became a lot less imaginative and the amount of blood and violence on the screen dropped precipitously. I'm certainly not gonna fault the director for any of this, because he directed Halloween II back in '81 and a whole lot more violence made it onto the screen in that one. Admittedly, Halloween's murders have always been more plausible than those of the Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street franchises, so they aren't playing against history by taking this route; the effects are just a little tame is all. Specifically, we've got an impaled throat, an impaled torso, multiple gut stabbings, skull stabbing, skull crushing, and a pretty fair decapitation with Captain Starbuck's head rollin' down a staircase. The short version is that, despite being run-of-the-mill, the special effects are probably the high point of the movie. The shooting locations aren't bad, with the bulk of the film taking place inside the insane asylum where Jamie Lee Curtis is housed, and the 5th or so iteration of the Myers House. The asylum is pretty good, particularly the laundry area in the basement, which looks pretty outdated and puts off good (read: bad) vibes. The Myers House, to me, is pretty good as well, though I'm not a real hardcore fan of the series to the point that I'm likely to spot inconsistencies between the layout of this house and the one used in the original. That said - the existence of a secret room where Mike's been hidin' out all these years seems pretty silly. So although I don't really like what they did inside it, it's a good set that lets a little atmosphere slip into the movie before it's immediately snuffed out by the story and characters.
The soundtrack is another area where I feel like the composers from Part 6 onward just got a little too slick for their own good. They can't exactly be blamed for this, because as time passes you get better equipment to compose with, and using the instruments Carpenter used for the first three flicks would be considered cheesy and old-fashioned by both the studio and a modern audience. Thing is, the soundtracks from the first three flicks worked so well because they were simple and *really* catchy, and despite the new technology producing much smoother, equally chilling music, they just don't feel right for some reason. I'm not gonna ding the composer for that, because this could just be my opinion butting in where it doesn't belong, and in all honesty the remixing of the classic theme is a bit better here than the one from H20 (that's about the only thing better about this flick, but it is). At the end of the day, the music fits the tone and mood they were going for, and that's really all that matters as far as dishing out either praise or scorn for the composer. Overall, Halloween: Resurrection is unquestionably the worst entry in the Halloween series, and probably always will be. In addition to moving even farther away from the feel of the original flick than H20 (which was itself much too far), Resurrection has a god-awful premise, stock characters, and is straight up boring for a significant chunk of its running time, and that is the greatest sin any film can commit. It fails only modestly in its production values, but pretty spectacularly on an entertainment level, and exemplifies everything that's wrong, not just with the genre today, but the entertainment industry in general. I am hereby slapping a "do not resuscitate" order on Resurrection, and I hope you'll all abide by it for your own sakes.