White Horses Couldn’t Drag Me Away: A Retrospective on Rob Zombie’s ‘Halloween II’
There’s a specter haunting the Halloween franchise: the specter of Rob Zombie’s Halloween II. With its white trash makeover, vulgar tendencies, and focus on Michael Myers’ origins, Zombie’s first Halloween was polarizing enough upon its release in 2007. Still, whatever grace the fandom had given Rob Zombie for his first stab at the Halloween mythos, they rejected his sequel en masse.
They rejected the bizarre Oedipal overtones and they rejected this Michael Myers, known as “Hobo Myers”, who more closely resembled Rob Zombie himself than the classic version of the Shape. They rejected the character assassination of Dr. Loomis, who, while still played by Malcolm McDowell, had been degraded into a narcissistic diva who exploits Myer’s murders for a trashy tell-all book. Perhaps, most of all, fans rejected Ghost Sheri Moon Zombie (The Devil’s Rejects) and especially that damn White Horse.
A Rob Zombie-less sequel penned by Todd Farmer (My Bloody Valentine 3D) went into pre-production before being canceled, leaving the ambiguous ending of Halloween II as the ultimate end of Zombie’s saga. So once again, the series was dead. Halloween II was another Resurrection and Curse of Michael Myers—a silver bullet for this seemingly unstoppable franchise, which so irreversibly poisoned the well that another creative team had to hit the reset button with the Blumhouse trilogy.
Rob Zombie’s Halloween II is also my favorite entry in the franchise and one of my favorite slashers, period. It’s a rogue vision that fuses ultraviolence, surrealism, and Freudian psychology to create the most affecting slasher flick of my lifetime. Halloween II is as violent as it is ethereal, psychotic and sensitive, a seemingly incongruent but ultimately harmonious study on the psychological wounds of both surviving a horror flick, and the equally devastating wounds of being a slasher villain. It’s both my comfort movie for the Halloween season and the most emotionally devastating Dead-Teenager flick that I’ve ever experienced. I’ve heard the fierce criticisms over and over again, which I acknowledge, and some I even concede to.
Even then, I will take all the White Horses and Hobo Myers you can throw at me if it means preserving Halloween II’s eclectic blend of ultraviolence, psychodrama, ambiance, and transgression. My affection for this movie is so great that I regularly ask the people to give it a chance. I even got my poor wife to watch it with me. Hey, she didn’t divorce me. So that’s a win.
Thankfully, I don’t feel like I’ve taken up this burden alone. The film had its defenders even dating back to the release, though they were drowned out by the chorus of haters. Tyler Mane (Deadpool x Wolverine), the WWE star and actor who played Michael Myers in the Zombie duology, recounts that he meets “people all the time that ‘secretly’ love it.” That said, in the 15 years since the film’s release, a small but vocal army of RZH2 truthers has emerged online. Quentin Tarantino went on the record to defend it, telling Consequence of Sound that “[Halloween II] is great because it completely can now go on its own” from the rest of the franchise.
Some are former critics who have given the film a second viewing and begun to appreciate it on its own merits. That’s a hater-to-hardcore-fan pipeline that has previously saved the reputation of many a black sheep sequel, including the likes of Season of the Witch, and now, Halloween Ends. Others have shared my experience of being of the Rob Zombie generation. For us Zoomers, we grew up with Zombie’s Firefly Trilogy and would have been introduced to the Halloween series while the Zombie duology was being released in theaters.
Whether you’ve despised it since day one, come to grudgingly respect its renegade qualities, or are an unapologetic fanboy, nobody can deny that Halloween II remains the most unique entry amongst a franchise notorious for operating under a strict playbook. Longtime series producer Moustapha Akkad kept a tight leash on the creative direction of the franchise after the harsh backlash to Season of the Witch. He even rejected a treatment from John Carpenter himself for a proposed Halloween IV, which he deemed to be “too cerebral”.
Even with the audacious choices he made for Halloween (2007), Zombie still felt shackled to the original’s mythology. You can throw in as many rednecks as you want, but Michael Myers still needs to chase Laurie Strode in the third act, he needs to pin Bob to the wall with a kitchen knife, and Dr. Loomis still needs to run around screaming his head off about “the devil’s eyes” and what have you. Outside of the opening hospital sequence—a grisly and moody set piece that’s an exceptional showcase for Zombie’s directorial abilities—Zombie doesn’t even so much as acknowledge Rick Rosenthal’s Halloween II and embarks on its own beaten path.
One of the biggest changes was also the most pivotal: transforming the devil-may-care Laurie of Halloween into a deeply traumatized, barely stable goth chick whose sanity slowly unravels. She now has an antagonistic relationship with Annie, her former best friend, whose facial scars serve as a reminder to Laurie of that ungodly Halloween they both suffered years ago.
Upon reflecting on Laurie’s journey between films and her respective approach to play her in the sequel, Scout Taylor-Compton recounts that she didn’t overthink her character’s drastic change and followed her instincts to portray this new Laurie. “I just didn’t shy away from my gut feeling of what I would feel like if that happened,” she said.
Taylor-Compton has one of the most demanding roles in Final Girl history and delivered a powerhouse performance that elevated her character from being a golden-hearted virgin into a richly layered hand-grenade of a character, who gave audiences a potent window into PTSD and survivor’s guilt. While Halloween II isn’t exactly a prototypical elevated horror slasher, it was ahead of the curve in pulling the psychological consequences of its horrors into sharp focus with arthouse language.
Zombie’s choice to unmask Myers was one of his most controversial, but it was a signifier of his humanist approach. This sequel would immerse itself into the psyche of its characters in an unprecedented fashion for the genre. The scars inflicted in dead-teenager movies tend to be superficial, ones in which either the hero or villain easily survives and shrugs off. Some previous slashers had paid lip service to the concept of PTSD, but only vaguely. As Taylor-Compton noted, she remembers “watching the first two [Halloween films] and thinking, ‘I don’t believe that they went through this traumatic night.’” Jamie Lee Curtis’ Laurie was haunted by memories of Michael Myers in Halloween: H20, but she and the audience were rewarded with the catharsis of seeing her overcome her trauma to defeat the man who previously terrorized her.
Rob Zombie’s Halloween II doesn’t conform to the structure of the traditional slasher flick because, in some sense, it’s not a slasher flick. At least, it’s not a film focused on the body count (though there’s an abundance of carnage candy to satiate gorehounds). Halloween II is really an internal struggle, as the final girl and the masked killer both battle demons and cope with their respective psychological crises. Laurie copes with a personality change and with therapy from Margot Kidder (Superman), who’s one of Taylor-Compton’s best scene partners, while Michael continues to cope by brutally murdering people.
There’s murder a-plenty, via axes, face-stomps, and stabbings. Lots of stabbings. But the cuts are more than skin deep. As Michael physically closes in on Laurie through the course of the runtime, she’s inflicted with more visions. She fantasizes about killing Annie in the same fashion that little Michael killed his abusive stepfather. She’s inundated with messages from her biological mother in a call from beyond. Out of place in a Halloween movie? Perhaps. But it’s a thematically rich and effectively unsettling throughline that blurs the psychological and the spectral in a manner akin to Twin Peaks. I just can’t bring myself to chastise something after comparing it favorably to David Lynch.
The themes of toxic coping and messy healing extend to McDowell’s portrayal of Dr. Loomis. While there’s an element of trolling to this performance, as McDowell even scoffs at a picture of himself from the previous film that refers to him as “the Old Loomis”, it’s about another form of coping: cashing in after playing the hero nearly gets you killed. It’s not subtle, but it was a refreshing use for the character after decades and decades of hearing some iteration of the “blackest eyes” speech in the endless sequels. It’s also a welcome commentary on the media machine that exploits and even invents killers for spectacle.
Beyond the dissertation that could be written around the wild swings of theme, characterization, and story directions, there’s one other crucial defense I have of Halloween II: it’s just a vibe!
Zombie already had a reputation as a retro stylist fueled by deep-cut genre classics, but this flick has a truly esoteric DNA. In addition to the mosaic of ‘70s cinema that has informed all of his other works, Halloween II also evokes everything from German Expressionism to David Lynch. Some have dismissed it as a crutch, just Zombie leaning on the bag of tricks he accrued as a director for his own music videos. If you’re not enamored with the sight of a bizarro banquet made up of a Jack-O-Lantern court, then there’s probably nothing I can say to convince you.
As Film School Cool as the imagery might be, it’s also intentional. These abstract moments visualize the interior of his two principal characters and give the audience a direct understanding of their mental states, which makes for not only some trippy sequences but also effective characterization. Zombie manages to get inside the head of Michael Myers more so in his first Halloween, even without that film’s prolonged backstory and thorough explanations. One trip inside that dude’s brain and I have no question why his only form of socialization is murdering people.
Even just from the level of production design and art direction, to cinematography and score, every aspect of Halloween II is brimming with personality and voice. There’s no end to the images that linger in my memory: the beaming headlights that silhouette Myers as he eviscerates Mark Boone Junior (Batman Begins), the former strip club of Deborah Myers that drips with neon and sleaze, or even just the coffee house where Laurie works. Danielle Harris, the Halloween alum who played Jamie Lloyd in Halloween VI & V and Annie Brackett in the remake, recalls how involved Zombie was in cultivating the visual design of the film, remembering when “he just walked into [Laurie’s room], grabbed some spray paint cans and started tagging the walls of this house.”
Zombie even managed to convince the Weinsteins to let him film this in glorious 16mm, as opposed to the widescreen format of the previous film. While I still contest that Halloween (2007) is a gorgeous film, the widescreen was certainly a concession from Zombie to help its mass appeal. Now he’s shooting the sequel in a grainy stock reserved for underground cinema. Better yet, he’s using the cinematic language of a grindhouse flick and projecting it onto what’s essentially a family drama. As Mane explained, “The way I portrayed Michael was that I was always trying to reunite with Laurie” rather than some obligatory mission of vengeance.
All these personal touches don’t just make Halloween II one of the most atmospheric in the franchise, but it even lends the film the aura of a hangout movie with its epic Halloween parties and hipster dives. Some of that is also aided by Brad Dourif’s (Child’s Play) wonderful performance as Sheriff Brackett. With his fatherly love and rugged charm, he provides the most warmth and pathos of the cast.
That being said, Zombie was a collaborative director, perhaps to an unusual extent for such an auteur. Harris recalls that Zombie modeled Laurie and Annie’s dialogue after her real-life conversations with Taylor-Compton. That can be verified by anyone who’s heard their banter on their Talk Scary to Me podcast. Zombie also worked with her and Tyler Mane to choreograph Annie’s death scene. It was a significant moment not just for the storyline or the characters, but for Harris herself, who had never filmed a death scene for the franchise despite starring in Halloween movies since she was a child. As she recalls, though, the original vision of her death scene wasn’t as impactful.
“In the script, I was the only character you didn’t see fight off Myers. It was originally written where Laurie comes home… and there’s supposed to be blood dripping from the ceiling. Raindrops on her head kind of thing,” she said. “Then she goes upstairs, they go into the bathroom, and they see Annie in the bathtub. It’s full of blood, [Annie’s] still alive and my head’s just out of the bathtub taking my last breath. [Laurie] screams, I die, and then she runs out.”
Harris disagreed with her character’s unceremonious death, saying to Zombie, “This is going to be my farewell. It isn’t just Annie’s character dying. If I’m gonna ‘go’, it’s like you’re killing me.” It would be especially impactful for longtime fans who were robbed of seeing Harris’s proper farewell from playing Jamie Lloyd in the Thorn Trilogy, as she had been controversially recast in The Curse of Michael Myers.
Zombie was game to work with Harris on the scene, allowing her and Mane to improvise a brutal confrontation, one that’s only shown in brief flashes to powerful effect. That laid the scene for Annie’s death. To this day, Taylor-Compton maintains that it’s the hardest scene she’s ever had to do, and Dourif delivers the hardest punch in the film when a devastated Sheriff Brackett discovers her body.
Now, if you still loathe Halloween II after all these years, just know that you don’t hate it as much as Zombie hated making it. He was always transparent that production on the films was challenging and that he suffered burnout after each of them. That’s why he was so unsure whether he wanted to sign on for a sequel. He’s been even more candid in recent years, describing the Weinsteins’ meddling as “psychotic” and has publicly lamented the chokehold of a production schedule he had for Halloween II.
The cast had glimpses into Zombie’s tense relationship with the studio, which he did his best to shield them from. Danielle Harris had to wrap twice due to reshoots. “I was there enough to see the stress. I was there in ADR when [Zombie] was dealing with phone calls and the dumb comments that were coming in,” Harris recalled. “It was really disappointing to see somebody’s spirit broken.” The production mayhem resulted in two starkly different cuts of the film: the theatrical edition, which toned down the film’s harshest qualities, and then the widely available director’s cut, which was a pure but challenging representation of Zombie’s vision.
The shoot was exhausting for many involved, either because of the difficult shooting conditions or because the dark material paralleled episodes in their personal lives. “I’ve gone through my own trauma,” Taylor-Compton said. “At that time in my life… I was doing some work on myself. I was working on some trauma in my life, and I was in a not-so-healthy relationship. So there was a lot to pull from in my life to sink into Laurie. I felt that I was falling apart, too.”
All of the behind-the-scenes tension and personal stakes resulted in Halloween II being a primal scream of a movie, not unlike the “Die!” that Michael utters in his sole line of dialogue throughout the franchise. Fans have long felt that Zombie was defying them with his disloyalty to the source material, but it’s just as possible that he was defying Dimensions Films. Either way, Halloween II is an anti-commercial project down to its origins, which emboldened Zombie’s most provocative qualities as a filmmaker and storyteller.
Rob Zombie’s Halloween II will continue to be a divisive entry, and the debate will rage on. No matter how contentious it is, or how controversial Zombie himself will be within the fandom, it’s a film that will be impossible to erase. It was destined to be a black sheep, but it’s also proud of that identity. It’s the only entry that I would describe as therapeutic because it encompasses the emotional spectrum of what I want horror to portray. It’s cozy and savage, sensitive and vicious, raw and otherworldly. Halloween II is the only slasher film that’s both an unapologetic exploitation picture while also treating death as more than just an excuse to up the body count.
Above all else, Halloween II is about the fact that “Love Hurts” isn’t just a needle drop. As the saga of Micahel and Laurie Myers demonstrates, love can be an obsession, a danger, and a toll.
And not just if your brother turns out to be a mass murderer. It can hurt to to love a friend who’s slipping into toxic behaviors, and who keeps pushing you away.
Or to love the art of storytelling when it’s being threatened by a tyrannical producer with draconian regulations on your creativity.
Love can even sting a little when your favorite entry of a franchise is also one of the most notorious.
Don’t forget, though, that love is also a force of nature in constant ebb and flow with the other emotional states of the human experience. It takes shape in gruesome ways, but it’s as elemental as the Shape himself.
Categorized:Editorials
