The Unraveling of a Horror Icon: Why David Gordon Green’s Halloween Trilogy Missed the Mark
Horror franchises are a tricky beast. They thrive on nostalgia, yet demand innovation. They rely on familiar tropes, yet must subvert expectations. David Gordon Green’s Halloween trilogy attempted to walk this tightrope, but ultimately stumbled—and in my opinion, it’s a cautionary tale about what happens when a franchise loses sight of its core identity.
The Promise and the Pitfall of a Fresh Start
Let’s start with the timeline—a mess even before Green’s trilogy entered the picture. The Halloween franchise has always been a tangled web of retcons, alternate realities, and forgotten plotlines. Personally, I think this chaos was both a curse and an opportunity. A reboot could have streamlined the narrative, but Green’s approach felt more like a bandaid than a solution.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how the trilogy tried to honor John Carpenter’s original vision while simultaneously undermining it. Removing the sibling twist between Michael Myers and Laurie Strode, for instance, was a bold move. In theory, it made Michael scarier—a random force of evil. But in practice, it stripped Laurie’s obsession of its tragic depth. If you take a step back and think about it, her paranoia becomes less about familial terror and more about… well, what exactly? It’s a detail that I find especially interesting, because it highlights how small creative choices can unravel a character’s entire arc.
Laurie Strode: A Final Girl Lost in Translation
Jamie Lee Curtis’s Laurie Strode is an icon. She’s the blueprint for every final girl who came after her. Yet, her portrayal in this trilogy feels like a series of missed opportunities. In Halloween (2018), she’s a traumatized warrior, preparing for Michael’s return. But by Halloween Ends, she’s baking pies and flirting at the grocery store? What this really suggests is that the writers didn’t know how to evolve her character without sacrificing her edge.
One thing that immediately stands out is the inconsistency. If Michael’s return should have heightened her fear, why does she suddenly seem so… normal? It’s as if the trilogy forgot its own rules. And don’t even get me started on how Halloween Kills sidelines her—a mistake the franchise already made in Halloween II. It’s like they didn’t learn from their own history.
Corey Cunningham: The Villain Who Shouldn’t Have Been
Now, let’s talk about Corey Cunningham. What many people don’t realize is that his character isn’t inherently flawed. The idea of evil infecting a new generation could have been compelling. But the execution? A disaster. Corey overshadows Michael, steals his mask, and even physically overpowers him. Michael Myers, the unstoppable force of nature, becomes a frail old man living in a sewer. This raises a deeper question: Why introduce a new villain in the final chapter of Laurie’s story?
From my perspective, Corey’s presence feels like a desperate attempt to add complexity where none was needed. Michael Myers didn’t need a successor—he needed a worthy adversary. And Laurie deserved a finale that focused on her, not a random character who derails the entire narrative.
The Supernatural Conundrum
Here’s where things get really interesting. The trilogy insists Michael Myers isn’t supernatural, yet portrays him as virtually indestructible. Crushing skulls, surviving extreme trauma, and even transferring his evil to Corey—these aren’t the actions of a mere mortal. What this really suggests is that the filmmakers couldn’t decide what Michael was supposed to be.
In my opinion, this inconsistency is a symptom of a larger issue: the lack of a clear vision. Horror thrives on rules, even if those rules are eventually broken. But when the rules keep changing, the audience loses trust. Michael’s mystique is diminished, and the franchise loses its sense of dread.
The Comedy That Fell Flat
Comedy in horror can be a powerful tool. It relieves tension, humanizes characters, and makes the scares hit harder. But the humor in this trilogy? It feels like it’s from a different movie. The infamous banh mi sandwich scene, the cartoonish band kids in Halloween Ends—these moments don’t enhance the story; they derail it.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how the tonal inconsistency mirrors the franchise’s identity crisis. Is it a gritty slasher? A dark comedy? A supernatural thriller? The trilogy never seems to decide, and the result is a jumbled mess.
The Kills: A Silver Lining
If there’s one thing the trilogy got right, it’s the kills. Michael Myers is a machine, and the violence is inventive, brutal, and undeniably entertaining. This is where the films feel most like Halloween. Even critics admit that when Michael is allowed to simply be Michael, the trilogy shines.
But here’s the irony: the kills are a symptom of the same problem. They’re so over-the-top that they further blur the line between realism and supernaturalism. It’s a double-edged sword—spectacular in the moment, but ultimately at odds with the franchise’s tone.
The Real Problem: No Plan
Ultimately, the trilogy’s failure boils down to one thing: there was no long-term plan. Characters behave inconsistently, storylines are introduced without setup, and themes shift between installments. Corey Cunningham is the most glaring example, but the cracks were there from the start.
This lack of direction is a modern franchise epidemic. Studios prioritize box office returns over narrative coherence, and the result is a series that feels directionless. David Gordon Green’s trilogy had moments of brilliance, but it never fully understood what it wanted to be.
What’s Next for Halloween?
The future of the franchise is uncertain, but another reboot feels inevitable. Rumors of an anthology series suggest a shift in approach, which could be a smart move. Personally, I think the franchise needs to return to its roots—a filmmaker with deep horror roots, a clear vision, and a commitment to consistency.
If you take a step back and think about it, the Halloween franchise has always been about reinvention. But reinvention without purpose is just chaos. Here’s hoping the next chapter learns from this trilogy’s mistakes. Because Michael Myers deserves better—and so do we.
