Halloween (1978) Film Review and Summary
SOLID 8/10
Have you ever gotten up in the middle of the pitch-black night to grab yourself a glass of water? In this journey to quench your thirst, maybe you feel the need to traverse across your dark home at blistering pace in order to avoid the uncertainties of what the omission of light has in store for you; this is the essence of the terror of Michael Myers (Nick Castle) brings upon the unknowing town of Haddonfield, Illinois in Halloween (1978).
The rapid pacing of the film’s introductory sequence is a perfectly modernized (for its time) interpretation of Alfred Hitchcock’s focus on the “peeping tom”. Hitchcock often placed the viewer at a third-person point of view that steadily intrudes upon intimate moments, usually by way of a dolly, as an unaffecting bystander. Halloween opts for a different approach in this regard. Rather than fashioning the camera in a way that doesn’t pertain to the content, director John Carpenter straps the device to Myers as we follow him in the murder of his first victim; his sister, who he killed at just 6-years-old. Carpenter clarifies, and leaves space for inquiries, a lot in just the first 20 minutes or so; we know why Myers was sent away to a sanitarium; we know that he’s escaped the asylum; we know that he’s evil, as Dr. Samuel Loomis (Donald Pleasence) claims; and we know that Myers is returning to his hometown to reign terror on Halloween. We don’t know what fueled Myers’ sadistic behavior in the first place, but who cares!? Carpenter just wants us to know that he’s been discarded from society for a reason, and he should be treated as such.
Permeating all of the visualizations that Carpenter executes at breakneck speed is a haunting score, fueled by synthesizers and piano keys that alternate between similarly high pitches at a relentless rate. Not only do we hear Carpenter’s musical aids, but Myers’ heavy breathing coats much of the action as an indicator for doom. Myers begins as a sort of fear of the unknown; Carpenter initially refrains from placing the frame above his neckline. As the film progresses though, the audience becomes very aware of Myers’ presence because it is not necessary to see him to know that he’s there. Myers ironically hides in the shadows, of which you can normally identify before discovering the origin of its placement; another precursor towards the impending doom that Myers deems inevitable.
The thrilling components do not stop at the character of Myers himself though. Carpenter made the brilliant decision of placing Halloween’s narrative within a typical American suburbia, as well as by making it apparent that Myers is a human, not superhuman. These two facets of the film’s structure adds to its fear factor by suggesting that a story like this could occur anywhere, and is not subject to supernatural circumstances. This is further emphasized by the film’s closing montage that depicts numerous empty spaces within the town, backed by Myers’ heavy breathing and the score, implying that he could pop out of the darkness again at any moment.
The best part about Halloween is that nothing really happens for more than half of it, and it’s still scary! Films like The Blair Witch Project (1999) and even Nope (2022), for a more contemporary example, owe it to Halloween as a pioneer in the genre of looming horror; films that implicitly contain dread, but rarely reveal the reasoning for such a strong emotional essence. Carpenter also does a brilliant job at switching between close-up and master shots in order to accentuate the fact that while we are following specific characters’ tales throughout the film, there is always something watching them from afar; whether it is the audience or Myers himself.
The dialogue throughout the film is expendable, but the fact that it is not even necessary is attributed to the success of Carpenter’s optical accomplishments. Halloween is an effort that requires a complete sensory commitment, where background is just as critical as foreground. It is a simple story, but its direct execution appropriately serves its subject matter as one that can blur the lines of an irreverent tale of horror, or as something that could happen in your own home.