AdamAB’s review published on Letterboxd:
Few horror films have left as indelible a mark on popular culture as Halloween. After more than 40 years' hacking and slashing unsuspecting teenagers, our favourite babysitter obsessive has become a somewhat omnipresent figure. But we are a long way from Carpenter's ghoulish vision of suburbia, or his elegantly simple presentation of the leisurely paced boogeyman. No, the beautiful vintage car, once treasured, has been left out to rust, leading to a limp "conclusion" destined to disappoint.
David Gordon Green's reboot trilogy, wisely disregarding all prior sequels to the 1978 original, wasn't necessarily destined to represent the quickening decay of a tired franchise. Halloween (2018), far from being a perfect follow-up to Carpenter's masterpiece, is an effective slice of reverent nostalgia, particularly in the way it presents the development of protagonist Laurie Strode, and probably should have been the final chapter in Haddonfield's tale of woe. Alas, the IP train keeps on rolling to give our trilogy a forgettable middle entry defined by its clumsy social commentary.
A mess of shifting perspectives and regrettable character choices, Halloween Ends is the worst of the three, though Green's willingness to take big swings with this aging horror staple should at least be acknowledged - even if the swings usually miss.
The central problem with the picture comes from the introduction of Corey, a young man ostracised by the Haddonfield community and driven to becoming an acolyte of Michael. This acts as a puzzling expansion of the lore for the story's final chapter, overcomplicating a series that flourishes because of its stripped back nature. Like with Halloween Kills, Green feels the need to add a layer of pretention to the proceedings. You can feel the script straining to say something of moral and philosophical depth but the writing just isn't sophisticated enough to justify that intention; it merely distracts from what is marketed as a culminative experience.
Michael Myers, once an evil-embodying shape at home in the shadows, is now a villain of diminished mystique, but it’s not like that mystique hasn’t been diminished before. A sad “end” but not a surprising one. At least Carpenter can cash his cheques.
