HALLOWEEN (1978) : THE NOT-SO HORROR MOVIE TO END ALL HORROR MOVIES
Written by A Robinson
~
We yet again find ourselves in my favourite period of history in cinema: the late 70s. More than that, the late 70s in suburban America. However, this transportation via screen does not take us to the hazy hot summer evening in Texas (see previous article on Dazed and Confused), but rather an immersion to the autumn-y cosiness of fictional Haddonfield, Illinois, on Halloween night.
This could only be John Carpenter and Debra Hill's Halloween, originally released on October 25th 1978. The sole original slasher, that was shot with a tiny budget by a small crew of independent filmmakers, Carpenter included, with a modest production that went on to gross $60-70 million at the box office, not even taking into account the 11 subsequent films that the franchise ensued, along with being the core model of a perfect slasher that other secondary, albeit still iconic franchises modelled themselves upon (Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th etc.) And this is coming from someone who doesn't even like horror movies.
Where my adoration for Halloween lies, however, aside from it's rightful place in horror movie history, is it's place in actual movie history. I do not watch Halloween as a horror movie; I view it as an expertly crafted masterpiece in suspense, cinematography, score, location, storyline, casting, and tone. The atmosphere the film creates instantly with the opening titles alone, or rather, the opening notes of the truly iconic theme (scored by Carpenter himself) even before the titles appear from black is a masterclass in establishing mood and atmosphere. It's chilling, but enticing. Melodic, but threatening. This balance of appeal and danger is where I believe the genius of Halloween lies; the appeal is created by the normality of location, the gloriousness or plainness of American suburbia where we find our characters residing, is a recognisable environment to the every-day American. It's a place of normality, or even, one of great boredom. Uneventful. You could even go as far to label it as safe? This was an era where people felt it safe to leave their back doors unlocked. This is what Halloween uses, and exploits.
It's not some far-fetched fantastical location where supernatural horror lies (for example, 1979's Alien)... this is natural horror. Michael Myers is not some horrific creature or beast or paranormal entity that is equally fearsome, but our fear of it ends as soon as we leave the movie theatre because we know we could never actually encounter it in real life; Michael Myers is someone we could encounter.
Michael Myers is a rare sort of villain, which I don't believe we ever see truly emulated again. He is rife with contradictions; a human man, yet says no words. An unexplained childhood murderer of his own sister, yet he comes back to his hometown years later and seeks to revisit his past actions. A stalking, brooding figure, yet never breaks more than a slow pace even when in clear pursuit of his victims. A recognisable identity, yet is credited as 'The Shape", seemingly wiped of all identity. Other recognisable figures of the slasher genre strike entirely different tones; Freddy Kruger is the complete opposite to Myers, his origins and threat lying in the supernatural, attacking his victims via their dreams, and his personality is one of theatricality and slight slapstick, whilst still being sinister. On the opposite end of the spectrum, we see Jason Vorhees- silent and brooding like Michael, and behind a mask, but his brute strength and aggressive pursuit of his victims differs to Michael's composed, measured pursuit. This, I find undoubtedly more chilling. Would it not unnerve you completely, to be running away from a killer, and instead of them running to kill you, they just walk at a regular pace closing in on you? It's unnatural, and unexplainable. This is where the rare genius of Michael's character appears.
His sinister aura lies in his simplicity. This is what I believe to be true of every aspect of the film: simplicity. Not one aspect ever goes past it's realism, it's small scale. It's a small cast. It's a small setting. It's a small time: all taking place on one night. I keep wanting to label it as cosiness, which might seem misplaced for a slasher movie, but that is the sense I truly feel. The cosiness of the fall in the Midwest (I'll begrudgingly ignore the fact it was filmed in Southern California), unassuming suburban streets, and the recognition of fun that comes with Halloween night. It's this mundane setup and appearance, that works as an excellent backdrop for the events that ensue. How many people babysit, or leave their kids to be babysat on a regular weekday night? Teenagers setting up plans exploiting the fact that they have access to a free house- unassumingly walking from house to house, leaving doors unlocked because they live in an uneventful boring suburb where nothing ever happens. What a setting for a horror film.
The beating heart of this film is undoubtedly Laurie Strode, the 'final girl' to end all 'final girls', portrayed beautifully by one of my long term favourite actors who I enjoy in every role throughout her 4 decade long career; Jamie Lee Curtis. Fresh faced and a relatively neutral teen, it's essential that we fight Michael through her. Not because she's studious and a virgin unlike her other friends (tropes that later become essential to being a final girl or surviving a horror movie; see 1996's Scream for further details), but because we get a second-hand wave of unease as she is the only one who consistently sees Michael throughout the day as he lurks and loiters around the neighbourhood. Her friends are too pre-occupied with their own agendas and loud mouth ramblings to pay attention to the fact that there's a man with a white mask and a boiler suit stood three meters in front of them on their path home, before hiding behind a hedge. It's Laurie's introvert nature, quiet composure and awareness, that allows her to register Michael's presence, and therefore his threat. That's where she differs from her friends and the rose-tinted blanket and assumed safety net of her surroundings; imagine if Laurie was equally self-absorbed and occupied with trivial things like sneaking around and getting laid tonight rather than watching the kids, we would be watching an extremely boring movie as Michael would have an easy ticket and would have upped his body count with no problem.
This bring me to some of my favourite moments in the film. Where atmospheric suspense marries perfectly with action, or in some cases, inaction. The best example of this is with the ending angled shots of rooms within the final house, along with exterior shots of the street and houses, artfully accompanied by Michael's jarring heavy breathing as the theme plays out. It's dripping with suspense and unease, seemingly plain shots, but the callback to previous locations of the film that appear unaffected by the events; a plain sofa, a stairwell, a front porch... homely settings that are now forever tainted by what just transpired. Similarly, I am the biggest fan of the shot of Laurie catching her breath against the doorframe, having just disabled Michael, a moment of complete stillness and potential closure as he is believed to be dead, only to have him sit bolt upright in the background as the thud of the piano begins. It seems so simple, but these devices and partnership between physical motion and soundtrack together make a certified formula for on-screen suspense. Perhaps the moment that truly takes the cake, however, is the moment after the balcony shoot-out with Dr Loomis. Michael, taking multiple shots to his form, falls out of the top floor balcony and we see his body strewn across the leaves on the ground, motionless. The following thirty seconds see a hysterical Laurie coming to agreement with Dr Loomis that it was the boogeyman. But when Loomis walks over to the balcony to see Michael, we cut to the same exact shot of the ground, this time inhabited only by leaves, as Michael has disappeared. At this exact moment, the theme imposes itself yet again.
It's truly unsettling, unnerving, paranoia-inducing suspense; not fear, but suspense of the unknown that completes this masterpiece of storytelling. As someone who is not a fan of horror as a genre, with a special aversion to any paranormal/possession/ghost horror, with a lesser distaste for gore, but who enjoys late 20th century American slashers (the final instalment in that lineage being 1996's Scream), I do not take Halloween for a horror movie. Yes, it is definable as one, but it does not instil horror in me. Rather, complete awe and immersion into the setting with it's cinematic genius, along with making me think twice about walking home from school and leaving my back door unlocked. Well played, Mr Carpenter.
