The Unraveling of a Horror Icon: Why David Gordon Green’s Halloween Trilogy Missed the Mark
When I first heard that David Gordon Green was reviving the Halloween franchise, I was cautiously optimistic. Green, known for his dramatic and comedic chops, seemed like an unconventional choice for a slasher series. But that’s what made it intriguing. Could he breathe new life into a franchise that had become a tangled mess of timelines and retcons? Personally, I think the answer is a resounding “no,” but not for the reasons you might expect.
The Timeline Tangle: A Franchise in Search of an Identity
One thing that immediately stands out is how the Halloween franchise has always struggled with its own continuity. From Laurie Strode’s fluctuating status as Michael Myers’ sister to the bizarre Busta Rhymes-led detour, the series has never been shy about rewriting its own rules. What many people don’t realize is that this chaos isn’t just a flaw—it’s part of the franchise’s DNA. But Green’s trilogy didn’t embrace this chaos; it tried to simplify it, and in doing so, it lost something essential.
By removing the sibling twist, Green aimed to return Michael to his roots as a random force of evil. In theory, this should have made him scarier. But in practice, it stripped away the emotional core of the story. Laurie’s obsession with Michael no longer feels tragic—it feels irrational. If you take a step back and think about it, her decades-long preparation for a man who has no personal reason to target her becomes hard to justify. This raises a deeper question: Can a horror icon like Michael Myers thrive without a personal connection to his prey? Personally, I think the answer is yes, but only if the storytelling compensates for that loss. Green’s trilogy didn’t.
Laurie Strode: A Character in Flux
Jamie Lee Curtis’s Laurie Strode is one of horror’s most enduring figures. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Green’s trilogy mishandles her arc. In Halloween (2018), she’s a traumatized survivor, living in isolation and preparing for war. But by Halloween Ends, she’s baking pies and flirting at the grocery store. This isn’t character development—it’s whiplash.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how the trilogy repeats the mistakes of the past. Remember how Halloween II sidelined Laurie in a hospital bed? Halloween Kills does almost the exact same thing. If the point of rebooting the timeline was to fix old problems, why reintroduce them? This inconsistency isn’t just frustrating—it’s baffling.
Corey Cunningham: The Villain Who Shouldn’t Have Been
Let’s talk about Corey Cunningham, the character who single-handedly derails Halloween Ends. On paper, the idea of evil infecting a new generation isn’t bad. But in execution, Corey feels like a distraction from the story we actually wanted: Laurie vs. Michael. What this really suggests is that the trilogy lost sight of its core conflict.
Corey kills more people than Michael, steals his mask, and even overpowers him. Michael Myers, one of horror’s most iconic villains, is reduced to a frail old man living in a sewer. This isn’t just a misstep—it’s a betrayal of the character’s mystique. If you’re going to introduce a new villain, they need to complement the story, not overshadow it. Corey does the latter, and it’s a glaring example of the trilogy’s lack of focus.
The Comedy That Fell Flat
Comedy in horror can be a delicate balance. When done right, it relieves tension and enhances the scares. But in Green’s trilogy, the humor often feels out of place. Take the infamous “banh mi sandwich” scene in Halloween (2018). It’s not just unfunny—it’s momentum-killing.
What many people don’t realize is that tonal inconsistency can ruin a horror film. The trilogy’s attempts at humor, from Julian’s exaggerated comic relief to the cartoonish band kids in Halloween Ends, never mesh with the darker elements. This isn’t a matter of personal taste—it’s a structural issue. The comedy doesn’t enhance the story; it distracts from it.
The Kills: A Silver Lining
If there’s one thing the trilogy gets right, it’s the kills. Michael Myers is a relentless force, and the violence is inventive and brutal. This rewatch value is a major reason why many horror fans still find something to enjoy in these films. Even I, as a critic of the trilogy, can’t deny that Michael’s presence is often electrifying.
But here’s the irony: the kills are so good because they’re the one area where the trilogy stays true to the character. When Michael is allowed to simply be Michael—unstoppable, terrifying, and efficient—the films shine. It’s when the trilogy tries to do too much, to reinvent or complicate the formula, that it stumbles.
The Real Problem: A Lack of Vision
Ultimately, the trilogy’s failure boils down to one thing: there was no clear plan. This isn’t just my opinion—it’s evident in the inconsistent character arcs, the shifting tones, and the introduction of characters like Corey Cunningham. Modern franchises often fall into this trap, prioritizing box office returns over storytelling coherence.
From my perspective, this lack of vision is what doomed Green’s trilogy. It’s not that the films are inherently bad—it’s that they never fully understood what they wanted to be. They’re financially successful, but artistically, they’re a cautionary tale.
The Future of Halloween
So, what’s next for the franchise? Rumors of a television series suggest an anthology approach, which could be a fresh start. But if there’s one lesson to learn from Green’s trilogy, it’s this: a horror franchise needs a vision. Without it, even the most iconic characters can lose their way.
Personally, I think the future of Halloween lies in returning to its roots—not just in terms of story, but in terms of tone and focus. Michael Myers doesn’t need a complicated backstory or a new generation of villains. He just needs to be Michael Myers. And if the next creative team can remember that, maybe, just maybe, the franchise can find its way again.
