Halloween Kills (your spirit)

 #Evildiestonight

Halloween's new hashtag.

Ya, but it doesn't though does it. The fact that we know there's another film coming renders that hashtag pointless.

Michael Myers has survived again. Quelle surprise.

He leaves the fiery trap that the last film ended on and walks out into a garden full of firemen who he decimates with a prying bar and a consaw. 

Everyone thinks that the Fast and Furious franchise heading into space was the stupidest thing you'll see in a film all year.

Ha.

That was a sad ha by the way. 

The 11th Halloween film will make you sad. In so many ways.

Sad at the waste of talent.

Sad at the dearth of originality in mainstream horror cinema.

Sad about the fact that series figurehead Jamie Lee Curtis spends 50% of the film unconscious and most of the rest of the time lying in bed talking sadly to the dude from Armageddon.

Sad that an interesting director like David Gordon Green has been reduced to this.

Sad that Donald Pleasance's corpse has been dug up once again.

Sad that John Carpenter's masterpiece is once again being pissed on from a great height.

Sad that Michael Myers definitely has carpal tunnel syndrome from all the stabbing he's done over the past 43 years.

Sad that the writers of this film think so little of their audience.

Sad that that Jim Cummings who wrote Thunder Road and The Wolf Of Snow Hollow gets wiped out after 30 seconds of screentime.

Sad that it's shamelessly crowbarred in attempt at social commentary will make you want to punch yourself in the face repeatedly.

Sad that a film that calls itself horror isn't remotely scary.

Sad that idiots being gutted left, right and centre has somehow become boring.

Sad that you had to read this.

Sad that I wasted time writing it.

Sad.

Loads of people get murdered. Some with axes, others with the old reliable kitchen knife, others with bulbs, one even gets his eyes gouged out. It earns it's 18 cert easily. But at the end of it nothing has changed. Except your self respect.

Ugh.