The Runaways

Director: Floria Sigismondi
Starring: Kristen Stewart, Dakota Fanning, Michael Shannon, Stella Maeve, Scout Taylor-Compton, Alia Shawkat
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

You can accuse The Runaways of many things but subtlety shouldn't be among them. Not when its opening image is of menstrual blood dripping to the ground. It doesn't pull punches in its depiction of the first major all-girl rock band or shy away from casting controversially to provoke a reaction. But it does condense, occasionally going through the obligatory beats of a standard by-the-numbers rock bio when the project could have used more ambition. But in its favor, the music is great, many sequences are well directed and there's a surprisingly sensational performance marking the maturation of a major actress who proves herself more talented than anyone could have suspected.

While the film somewhat solidifies typical misgivings about biopics and highlights the problems faced when bringing a really compelling true life story to the screen. Watching, you wouldn't have a clue that The Runaways had members other than Cherie Curie and Joan Jett or were incredibly talented musicians. Listening to the music, you would. Despite focusing on my preferred genre of music and being set in probably my favorite time period, I still can't shake the nagging feeling that we're being given the cliff notes version of a larger story and that the band deserved more. But that's not to say it still doesn't have its thrills.

Picking up in 1975, eccentric record producer Kim Fowley (Michael Shannon) seemingly by chance assembles the band on the fly, seeing dollar signs and jailbait in pairing aspiring musician Joan Jett (Kristen Stewart) with the 15-year-old Cherie Currie, who has no singing experience outside of lip-syncing David Bowie at her school talent show (in one of the film's best scenes). They're joined by drummer Sandy West (Stella Maeve), lead guitarist Lita Ford (Scout Taylor Compton) and Robin (Arrested Development's Alia Shawkat), a fictionalized version of their real-life bassist, Jackie Fox. The film wisely centers around Currie and Jett, with a primary emphasis on Currie's Behind The Music-like descent into the drug addiction that eventually broke up the band and ended her career. She's gone on to work a chain saw artist and write Neon Angel: Memoir of a Runaway, the autobiography on which this film is based, while Jett and Ford survived the implosion, using it as a stepping stone to hugely successful music careers of their own.

It was unquestionably the right call focusing on the two big names, but had I not listed the other band members it would be impossible to tell from the film that they existed at all, especially Shawkat's "Robin" who I don't remember even appearing, much less having a single line of dialogue. Aside from one angry outburst (in a scene that recalls the t-shirt argument in Almost Famous, but with a magazine), Ford is invisible as well. That's less excusable considering Lita Ford is hardly a minor figure in music and you have the benefit of an actress as good as Taylor-Compton playing her. Only Maeve's Sandy gets what could be considered minimal screen time at best, but still no defining role or personality. In a way, the big meltdown scene plays ironically since this film is just as guilty of ignoring the rest of the band as the media and the public was. If it disappoints as biopic or a look into the disintegration of a band, that's made up for with its success as a coming-of-age story.

I kept waiting for the scope of the film to catch up with the power and intensity of Fanning's performance but that just wasn't meant to be, and in retrospect, would almost be impossible. Not only considering physical resemblances, on paper you couldn't make two better casting choices for Currie and Jett than Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart, but it's Fanning who delivers, carrying the entire film. Supposedly years before she was even old enough for the role, Fanning was always Currie's top choice to play her and now really clear why. Anyone who watched her as a child star is in for a shock as she turns a rock cliche into a devastating performance of brutal honesty and pathetic desperation. Besides transforming from a timid, waif unable to sing a note in key into an enigmatic powerhouse commanding the stage in a corset, she makes Cherie's fall off the deep believable by not completely losing touch with the innocent little girl we're familiar with her playing. Even by the end of the film you still see her, but through a sad, empty shell.

Less successful is Stewart as Jett, as I never really got past the fact that this just felt like Stewart being Stewart, but with a mullet, attempting an impersonation rather than embodying the persona. Onstage she conveys Jett's swagger as a performer but in the scenes off of it she often falls back on certain annoying "Stewartisms" like mumbling and hanging her head. At points she even looks physically uncomfortable in the part, particularly a later scene where she comes off as an 80's Jett impersonator at a costume party. It's a disappointment since I was looking forward to her potentially re-proving herself as the talented dramatic actress we saw in Into The Wild and Adventureland after selling her soul for Twilight paychecks. This effort won't do it, but in her defense she had the pressure of tackling one of the most famous rock figures of all-time in Jett whereas Fanning could more easily benefit from creating the perception she's building a character from the ground up with the lesser known Currie. Compounding Stewart's problem is that she's starring in a movie about celebrity while currently being overexposed as one herself. It's possible her performance just needs time to be looked on more favorably, but Fanning is so impressively poised in the more pivotal role she's able to easily cover for her. As the only main male figure in the cast, Michael Shannon adds maniacal Kim Fowley to his repertoire of scary creeps and after seeing photos of the real person it's amazing just how much he physically resembles him. Sure, he's a cartoon, but weren't all record producers larger-than-life cartoons back then? I wouldn't argue with anyone more interested in seeing a spin-off biopic focused on his character.

First time writer/director Floria Sigismondi has a history in music videos which should have made her the ideal candidate to direct this, and in a way, she is. The band as a unit is ignored but their music isn't. Sigmundi's sense for time and place stands out with the set design and costumes, as well as distorted visuals and a color palette that gets progressively grimier and darker as the story progresses to its conclusion. The concert scenes are the among strongest and both Stewart and Fanning do a better than passable job recreating the vocals, which is no easy task. These sequences and the soundtrack would make those unfamiliar with The Runaways' music check them out, which should always be the primary goal in a movie that's supposed to be all about the music. That the film can even be mentioned favorably in relation to something like Almost Famous (which take place during the same period and covers similar musical territory) is a victory in itself. The one complaint always leveled against that picture was that it took an R-rated subject matter and made it PG-13. That approach wouldn't fly here. This is what these girls did, this was how old they were and there's no getting around the dirty details. Sigmundi doesn't gloss over them, giving us the uncomfortable feeling we're witnessing something we shouldn't without crossing the line into needless exploitation.

This is a really close call for me as the film seems better now than when I was actually watching it, which could just speak for my enthusiasm for the subject and desire to see more than just a slice of what should have been an epic rock bio. Though it's Fanning's performance pushing the material over the top, the riskiest decision made is presenting the band just as lucky as they were good. There was a little of both for sure, but it's mostly the former that shines through here, making The Runaways work better as a cautionary coming-of-age tale than a biographical account. And more proof that sometimes it pays just being at the right place at the right time.

A Second Look: Halloween II (Unrated Director's Cut)

SPOILERS FOLLOW FOR BOTH THE THEATRICAL AND UNRATED VERSIONS

★★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

It's best when you have a gut feeling to just go with it. A couple of months ago I shared my brief thoughts on Rob Zombie's sequel that isn't a remake, Halloween II, giving it a mildly negative review. But I gave Zombie credit for tackling a thankless project that was going to happen with or without his involvement. He had to know that despite the relatively lukewarm reaction to his 2007 re-imagining of John Carpenter's classic, audiences were burnt out on pointless horror sequels and remakes and would have little interest in seeing this franchise revisited further. Despite my issues with the film I still respected that he clearly gave his all, opting to use this second opportunity as a form of creative expression when no one would have cared if he just phoned it in for quick pay day. Daring to push the series' mythology in a different direction, he had to know his decisions it would infuriate hardcore fans of the franchise and more casual viewers just simply wouldn't care.

After watching the theatrical version on DVD I thought I had seen a mess with flashes of brilliance but even as mixed as my initial reaction was, certain scenes didn't leave me and there was a nagging feeling it needed to be revisited. That's just about the highest compliment I could give a picture I didn't like and made me curious whether this is one of those extremely rare cases where an unrated directors cut ends up being a difference maker. Additional footage in a film is usually a death knell, needlessly piling on minutes, narrative exposition and back stories to pad running time. The DVD director's cut of Watchmen last year is a great example of an already lengthy film hurt by additional pointless narrative and I still contend an extra trip to the editing room could have only improved The Dark Knight. But the director's cut of Halloween II is one of those unique films that enhances nearly every aspect of the theatrical version and diminishes its flaws, taking what was a barely recommendable outing and unleashing the deeper story that was struggling to break through.

Filling in the blanks where they need to be filled, these extra twenty minutes give the narrative and its characters more room to grow and breathe. The result is a genre-bending throwback slasher that's more grindhouse than the actual movie Grindhouse and builds to a fever pitch of suspense in its final hour. It also presents an alternate ending that truly is ALTERNATE in every sense of the word, as well as controversial. If you're in the majority who hated the theatrical version you'll still probably hate this but if you're like me and found that to be a fascinating misfire with promise then you'll be pleased to discover much of that promise is fulfilled here. Then again, it's still easy to see how it inspired levels of vitriol exceeding most slasher sequels when Zombie made ballsy decisions like this:

-Depicting all-American good girl Laurie Strode as a grungy metalhead losing her battle with post-traumatic stress disorder and in the midst of a psychotic breakdown.

-Re-imagining Dr. Sam Loomis as a greedy, fame hungry author exploiting the suffering of Mike Myers' victims and their families for profit.

-Mike Myers unmasked as a bearded, wandering hobo...and talking!

-The film's first twenty minutes is---ALL A DREAM.

-Trippy hallucinations of Myers' late mother Deborah...with a white horse.

-The absence of John Carpenter's famous Halloween score.

-Laurie shown smiling after being committed to the confines of a mental institution in the closing scene.

As blasphemous as all these ideas are even the film's opponents would have to admit that they're intriguing and original, baring no resemblance to anything seen in the series before. Mentally and emotionally unglued two years after her Myers' murderous rampage, Laurie Strode (Scout Taylor-Compton) is a damaged shell of her former self living under the same roof as the Bracketts but her relationship with them (especially Annie played by Danielle Harris) is strained and only serves as constant everyday reminder of the traumatic ordeal she went through. This wasn't made completely clear in the theatrical cut but here important scenes are added between the two girls that better reflect this crumbling family dynamic. The pizza scene with all of them at the dinner table works largely because of Zombie's gift for realistic, Tarantino-style dialogue (it's also at play in the coffee house scenes). But besides just being entertaining it also conveys something more meaningful if you listen carefully to it. Sheriff Brackett (the great Brad Dourif) can't really relate to these girls at all and time has completely passed him by. This is cleverly intercut with Myers claiming his first victims in the field before heading "home."

Pitching Laurie as a psychotic and clinically depressed basket case is a tough sell any way you look at it but this cut of the film has the goods to justify it. Margot Kidder's bizarre cameo as Laurie's psychiatrist elicited unintentional laughter in the theatrical version mainly because it added nothing to the film and needlessly called attention to itself. Because it's so brief and unfocused we were forced to view it as a joke. But this version gives her more screen time focusing on her sessions with Laurie, giving us insight into her fractured psyche and relaying pertinent information. Leaving it on the cutting room floor to begin with wasn't only the wrong call creatively but turned a veteran actress into a bad punchline when she deserved better (especially with cameos like Weird Al Yankovic, Chris Hardwicke and Howard Hesseman to earn intentional laughs). Here, Kidder gets much better treatment as just those couple of minutes extra minutes hit all the right notes for the story. Laurie's scenes with her psychiatrist and Annie flesh out the character much more, which helps a lot considering the entire film centers around her inability to come to grips with the trauma she experienced. As a result of the renewed focus on Laurie's instability, the controversial twenty minute "Gotcha!" opening doesn't seem as manipulative, nor does she come off nearly as unlikable. A big improvement.

Of all the criticisms leveled against the film the one that boggles my mind most is how anyone could find fault with Scout Taylor-Compton's performance. Granted, I thought she did a suitable job in the 2007 remake (where she was boxed in by preconceived notions of the role and given far less) but this is a huge leap up from that. That she'll constantly be compared to Jamie Lee Curtis isn't fair because Curtis was never asked to do the things Compton is in this film. The first 20 minutes notwithstanding, this isn't a "scream queen" or "final girl" performance any more than the movie is just another flimsy entry in the dead teenager genre (see the Friday the 13th remake for that). This is a girl basically suffering from post-traumatic stress. Laurie may still be far from likable but Taylor-Compton makes us want to understand why, and in the process earns the character sympathy. No one can watch the scene in the car when she discovers she's Mike Myers' sister and tell me that isn't some seriously impressive acting.

Nor could you convince me that the decision to paint Dr. Loomis (Malcolm McDowell) as an egotistical, fame-hungry prick doesn't provide the film with its most wildly entertaining sequences, tops of which is his emotional book signing confrontation with a grieving father. Loomis' behavior does seem like a natural progression from the events of the last film and those still hanging to Donald Pleasance's interpretation should consider whether he ever really did anything with it or was given the opportunity to. McDowell is and takes full advantage. More screen time for him pushes the psychological component of the story even more, further calling into question his motivations in the final act. If there's one weak acting link it's Chase Vanek as young Michael if only because Daeg Faerch was so memorably creepy in the 2007 remake.

You could make the argument that Zombie is still pedaling his brand of hillbilly porn but I won't since he wears the trailer trash gimmick so much better this time around, achieving a mood and atmosphere that captures the look and spirit of the holiday (witness that costume party). He also makes inspired musical choices like the subtle but chilling use of the Moody Blues' "Nights in White Satin" during the hospital sequence. My biggest problem with the theatrical cut was that the actual implications of the story seemed to be treated as an afterthought in between Myers' graphic kills. The murders are still unflinching and disturbing but now with actual context to view it in it's less a horror movie rampage than an exploration into the sick mind of a serial killer and the lives he's affected. Even the white horse dream sequences don't feel as thrown in and seem to gain a sense of purpose. Zombie just keeps filling the cup with psychological back story to the point that it's practically boiling over with tension when Myers arrives in Haddonfield and sets his sights on Annie. Because so much of the film was unusually spent focusing on the day-to-day struggles of the Brackett family and Laurie, Annie's death is the first horror movie murder in a long time that packs an emotional punch. Nothing is shown but Dourif's face says it all after discovering his daughter's lifeless body on the bathroom floor.

The alternate ending does away with an unforgettable visual with Laurie stepping out of the shack in her brother's mask (as big a stretch as that was) but replaces it with an ending that arguably makes more sense and provides the needed closure lacking in the theatrical cut. It's reasonable given what we'd seen up to that point that she'd turn her knife on the true villain of the story, Dr. Loomis. This is the first ending of a Halloween film that actually feels like THE END. As if the final chapter's been written and the book closed. Of course it isn't and they'll be a Halloween 3D without Zombie's involvement but he at least deserves credit for attempting to provide the conclusive finale Carpenter refused to give us in 1978. Had he done that, the series wouldn't have needed to be bailed out of the mess it got into.

If Zombie's guilty of anything with Halloween II it's overestimating fans' ability to let go and accept something other than the original incarnations of these characters. Because doing that would mean conceding that most of the films in the series are terrible and can only be appreciated on a guilty pleasure level. This strives for more and for me takes the opposite trajectory of his 2007 re-imagining, a film I thought highly of right after seeing but fell by the wayside as time wore on. Torn between staying respectively loyal to the Halloween legacy and bringing his unique vision to the material, Zombie crafted a mish-mash of key moments from the previous entries and fused with it his own, resulting in a strange mix. But getting that film out of his system and freeing himself from the shackles of the original ended up being the best thing that could have happened. After three decades of suffering through countless sequels, the unrated cut of Halloween II not only feels like a worthy successor, but succeeds independently as a psychological drama.

Rob Zombie's Halloween

Director: Rob Zombie
Starring: Malcolm McDowell, Tyler Mane, Scout Taylor-Compton, Daeg Faerch, Sheri Moon Zombie, William Forsythe, Brad Dourif, Danielle Harris, Kristina Klebe
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

***1/2 (out of ****)

Spoiler Warning!!! This review discusses some major plot points.

No, I'm not among those who believe remaking John Carpenter's Halloween is sacrilege. The franchise was completely dead in the water, marred by countless sequels of alarmingly low quality. Michael Myers, once one of the most feared screen villains had been turned into a joke. If we were going to revisit Haddonfield it was going to have to be with fresh eyes. This was a rare case where a complete reboot of the franchise was the only possible direction to go.

When it was first announced Rob Zombie would be helming a "re-imagining" of Halloween it's been fun to track the reaction from horror fans. At first there was outrage and disbelief, but slowly as the release date drew nearer there was a shift in opinion of sorts. I almost got the impression that while no one could honestly claim the endeavor was necessary at all, they were kind of pulling for him to be able to pull it off. Part of this could have stemmed from a feeling of helplessness. The film was going to be remade whether anyone wanted it to be or not and accompanying it was this strange sense of relief that Zombie had the job. His previous efforts, House of 1,000 Corpses, and to a much larger degree, The Devil's Rejects showed a nostalgic appreciation for the genre and hinted that he might have it in him to pull it off. If nothing else, Carpenter's classic story was in the hands of somebody who respected it and would be careful, even if there would be no doubt he'd try to make it his own.

I was listening to a radio interview with Zombie where he said he made two phone calls to John Carpenter. The first came before shooting began to let him know what he was doing. The second came after it wrapped to tell him he was finished. That was the extent of Carpenter's involvement. Now the question that has been weighing on hardcore horror fans minds for months is "What exactly happened in between those two calls?" Everyone has held their collective breath, almost afraid to look. Would it be another remake hatchet job along the lines of Gus Van Sant's Psycho? Or more of a pedestrian recycling like The Omen or The Hitcher? The answer is neither.

The first forty-five minutes to one hour of Zombie's Halloween could almost be considered perfect, which at once stands as both its biggest strength and weakness. By staging the first half how he does, Zombie makes a controversial trade-off. Whether or not you feel this trade-off was worth making will likely determine your opinion of the film. In choosing to focus so much on the back story of young Michael Myers, Zombie inevitably sacrifices some fright and suspense to give us a more psychologically complex story. It's a double-edged sword and a huge gamble that makes this more of a character study than a conventional horror film.

The demystification of Michael Myers begins immediately as we're thrust into the home of the poster family for white trash America. It's Haddonfield, Illinois circa early '90's and young Michael (Daeg Faerch) is a disturbed, angry kid with an unhealthy obsession wearing masks and torturing small animals. Problems on the home front are at least partially to blame. Mom Deborah (Sheri Moon Zombie) is a stripper with an abusive alcoholic (William Forsythe) as a live-in boyfriend and sister Judith (Hanna Hall) is an obnoxious slut. This combined with some serious bullying at school pushes Michael closer to the edge. The only affection he seems capable of showing is to his mother and his baby sister who he lovingly refers to as "Boo."

Zombie makes an interesting choice with the casting of Faerch. Yes, he's creepy but it's not his creepiness that is most noticeable. That wouldn't be scary. It's his anger. Anger that many kids would feel if cornered and put in the same situation. The notion that Michael Myers isn't merely just a monster, but a disturbed human being that could reside in anyone is scarier than any of the brutality that will occur later. Zombie knows this and just builds and builds until the breaking point finally comes. When it does and we hear the familiar strains of John Carpenter's classic theme (interpreted rather faithfully by Tyler Bates) it feels like a huge moment. That it's used sparingly throughout the film only helps. The debut of the infamous mask is even more effective and nerve rattling when it arrives. Zombie does his best to put his own twist on its re-debut and it's very clever and original. It's clear he respects the lineage and does his best to make the moment feel important. After all, it is.

Sheri Moon Zombie doesn't give just a good performance as Michael's mother, but a terrific one. She brings a surprising amount of emotional depth to a woman who loves her son, but knows deep down that something is terribly wrong. She wants to help, but can't bring herself to. The idea that this monster lies inside her son proves too big a burden to bare. Her conflicted performance and sell-job of the material early in the picture makes Zombie's controversial decisions later on go down a little easier.

By introducing Dr. Samuel Loomis (Malcolm McDowell) into the equation right away a unique bond is forged between him and Michael that goes a little deeper than in Carpenter's version. For some reason, there have been a lot of criticisms leveled against McDowell's reinterpretation and I can't understand why. His work here is as good if not better than Donald Pleasance's highly over-praised portrayal of the character, which just grew more ridiculous with each ill-fated installment of the franchise. In Pleasance's defense though, no one could have done anything with the increasingly cartoonish material and dialogue he was saddled with as the series wore on. The handling of Dr. Loomis' relationship with Michael may be the one thing this film does better than the original. I'd even go so far as to say this is the most interesting role McDowell's had since you know what. In trying to understand how a 10-year old boy could cause such carnage Dr. Loomis gets nowhere for fifteen straight years until Michael's institutional escape (depicted in unflinchingly violent detail). This leads an embattled, conflicted Loomis to Haddonfield and us into the more problematic territory of Zombie's film.

Interestingly, Zombie plants seeds of doubt as to what Michael Myers motives are in returning home to find his baby sister Laurie Strode (Scout-Taylor Compton), since adopted and now in high school. In the original film we knew he was coming back to kill her. Here, he may be, but we're not completely sure. That mysterious element adds some much needed tension and suspense to the latter portion of the film. Zombie also really understands the town of Haddonfield. It looks and feels like the one from the original with some nice little details and homage's thrown in to Carpenter's classic which I won't spoil. Fans will quickly notice what they are.

It's in this latter section of the film where Zombie makes the polarizing decision to edge closer to the content of the original, even going so far as to recreate certain scenes and events from it. This makes for a strange viewing experience given what came before it and I couldn't help but be reminded just how strong Carpenter's film really was as I watched (and this coming from someone who doesn't think the original is the greatest thing he's ever seen).

Scout Taylor-Compton is faced with the unenviable task of filling Jamie Lee Curtis' shoes as one of the most memorable horror movie heroines of all time. Her job is made that much harder by the fact Zombie gives her less than half of Curtis' screen time, cramming nearly all of the original's story into the last hour as he makes a mad dash toward the finish line. Things can't help but feel a little rushed, which forces Compton to do much heavier lifting acting-wise than Curtis did.

Comparing the two performances would be unfair since the character serves two entirely different functions in each film. This movie is all about Michael Myers. But I will say Compton does make Laurie Strode her own. I could swear I had babysitters who acted exactly like that. She just nails it, investing her with just the right amount of toughness and innocence. More importantly, she seems like a real teenager. Unfortunately her friends, Linda and Annie (played by Kristina Klebe and Danielle Harris respectively) aren't rendered nearly as well, although not so badly that it would bring back painful memories of the teens in Halloweens 4 and 5. I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed Danielle Harris, who heroically carried those two awful films on her back as a child actress, didn't make a bigger impression here. In her defense, she's not given a lot to work with.

It's ironic that what ends up saving Zombie's minor miscalculations in the second half was his incredible commitment to and brilliant execution of the Myers back story earlier. Because of it, there's an aura of importance surrounding Michael Myers the likes of which we haven't seen since Carpenter's original. Unlike the inferior sequels there's no winking at the audience here. This man is a dangerous killing machine with a purpose. Having the physically gargantuan ex-pro wrestler Tyler Mane in the role helps. One of the many problems with the sequels was that the actors playing Myers weren't physically imposing enough to be causing the damage the character was capable of. Here, that's definitely not an issue. He also moves more fluidly and realistically than in the other films, where the character's movements seemed jerky and robotic. You'll have to look closely to notice, but the attention to detail is such that Mane's movements and mannerisms are nearly identical to young Daeg Faerch's from earlier in the film.

But by establishing what drives Michael, has Zombie really made his actions more or less terrifying? That will be the basis for much argument among fans. Obviously by showing us who's behind the mask a certain amount of mystery and suspense will be lost. Maybe some fear as well. Some of you may not be willing to trade that in to be given a story with deeper psychological implications. I am. What Zombie creates here is a different kind of fear. A fear not of the unknown, but the known. The knowledge that Michael Myers may not just be a nameless, faceless psychopath but a real person with a past and a set of circumstances that contributed to the carnage. That combined with the physical presence of Myers lends engulfs the latter portion of the film in a different kind of terror. Is that scarier than not knowing? Maybe not, but it carries a lot of weight and gives THIS MOVIE some much needed emotional pull. A little psychological complexity can never hurt any film, remake or not. Late in the film comes a powerful scene between Myers and Laurie that convinced me Zombie not only made the right decision, but wasn't just trying to resurrect a dying franchise for a quick buck. In it it's clear that he never lost sight of the source material and approached it less as a director than as a caretaker entrusted by Carpenter to reinterpret his masterpiece. It's a job he apparently took very seriously.

I do think Zombie tries to do a little too much toward the end and I could have done with less of the dizzying camera work. Many may complain he "shows too much" in this film but I've become resigned to the fact that we've entered a new era in the horror genre and we'll never see anything like what Carpenter did again. Today's horror audiences want (or are at least are conditioned) to see more gore so it's a compromise we'll have to live with. Besides, I wouldn't, under any circumstances, have wanted Zombie to shoot the film exactly like Carpenter did. That would be pointless. If you're shocked by the amount of blood and violence in a Rob Zombie movie you probably shouldn't be watching one. However, that's not to say this film isn't suspenseful because it is. The scares are there in spades, just in a different, more abusive form.

Despite being a remake of a horror classic there's no mistaking that Zombie's grungy grindhouse fingerprints are all over it. He employs his usual troupe of actors, which in addition to Sheri Moon and Forsythe include, Bill Moseley, Leslie Easterbrook, Sid Haig and Danny Trejo. He also throws in some fun roles for Sybil Danning, Brad Dourif, Dee Wallace, Clint Howard and Micky Dolenz. Yes, that Micky Dolenz. Turns out I'm not crazy and that really was the ex-Monkee cameoing as a gun store owner. Everyone makes an impression with the screen time they're given, but Trejo makes the biggest as an orderly who befriends Myers, or at least thinks he does. Zombie litters the soundtrack at just the right moments with classic rock staples like Nazareth's "Love Hurts," Rush's "Tom Sawyer," and in case you're having cowbell withdrawal, Blue Oyster Cult's "Don't Fear The Reaper." It works and everything fits like a glove.

Going into this "re-imagining" my secret wish was that we'd get a radically different ending than the original that provides more closure. The final scene of Carpenter's film deserves to rank among the most unsatisfying endings of any great film, right up there with the psychiatrists long-winded babbling at the close of Hitchcock's Psycho. It may be the film's only flaw. Had Carpenter closed it out (or at least tried give us the illusion he had) we may not have had to suffer through all those terrible sequels that destroyed the franchise's reputation and I wouldn't even be reviewing a remake right now. If Zombie had all of Haddonfield explode in a giant mushroom cloud before the closing credits it could be considered an improvement. He doesn't, but he does provide slightly more closure. The ending mostly works, but I can't say it left me craving for sequels. That's probably a compliment. I think, like the original, this film's reputation would only be harmed if it doesn't remain a stand-alone effort.

What's strangest about this movie is that the more Zombie departs from the source material the stronger it makes the film. This is likely because even when he veers off the map, he never loses sight of the origin story. I've seen better remakes, but I'm not sure I've ever seen a remake where the respect for the original comes across onscreen like it does here. You can almost feel it. Much like his House of 1000 Corpses, it has its problems, but even those are fascinating to watch and technically this is Zombie's most confident, cohesive effort behind the camera. You could stop this film frame by frame examining all of the interesting choices Zombie made. I may not agree with some of his decisions, but I understand why he made them and respect the hell out of him for having the balls to do it.

I noticed that when this film opened hardly a single review appeared in any media publication in the country even though it was screened for critics. Then after it set Labor Day weekend box office records, one and a half and two star reviews started popping up everywhere. Of course, these reviews immediately assigned the film the stupid, ignorant label of "torture porn," when in this case it couldn't have possibly been less applicable. This is one of the few cases where gore and violence actually take a backseat to psychological depth and character development. Did they even watch it?

I find it funny that horror is the only genre left that's perfectly acceptable to discriminate against. Even when critics praise the great ones like Carpenter's Halloween and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre it's as a backhanded compliment. They're great "horror movies," just not "great films." But those in the know are always aware that when a great horror movie comes along it's as much a work of art as any Oscar-baiting war or romance drama. Zombie's Halloween isn't in the same league as those two aforementioned classics, but in the very least it deserves to be judged on its own terms. Those who do that are destined to walk away satisfied.