The Forgotten Films of Halloween
Whether you’d classify these films as camp, divisive, family-friendly, or underrated, we have created a list that departs from the classic Halloween canon and sheds light on a few of the best and forgotten films that urge an October viewing. This article was written by Film writers Jessica Moore, Lexi Notrica, and McKenna Blackshire.
Ms. 45 (1981), directed by Abel Ferrara
Abel Ferrara’s Ms. 45 is a surreal, highly stylised cult-classic which centres mute seamstress Thana, (played by Zoë Lund), as a character sartorially referenced by Kat in Euphoria. After being raped twice, Thana traverses New York clad in a nun Halloween costume and red lipstick, shooting all men she encounters.
Ms. 45 places female agency at the fore, and the result is an acerbic reconfiguration of the ‘rape-revenge’ subgenre, one which is expectedly controversial by nature. While Ferrara could, of course, face condemnation for indulging in such contested cinematic terrain, there is merit to his interpretation. Throughout the film, there is an overarching sense of hyperbole; characters are affectatious, adapting to the horror framework as events unfold. Thus the horror genre, with its focus on embodiment and terror, illustrates the brutality of rape in ways that afford agency and empathy for the victim, not the predator. Consequently, Ferrara’s depiction of rape is far from an act of mindless exhibitionism, instead it rather vehemently exposes its horrifying reality. Set in and around Halloween, and boasting high-camp, stylish frameworks of filmmaking, Ms. 45 is a classic for a reason, and, for those who can stomach it, an immersive and impressive addition to the Halloween canon.
— Jessica Moore
Halloweentown (1998), directed by Duwayne Dunham
An ode to the true principle of Halloween - escaping from the monotony of life - Halloweentown starts with a classic incident of 90s teenage angst, as Marnie complains about her mother’s unreasonable rules regarding Halloween, namely that the Piper children aren’t allowed to celebrate it. Beginning with an unexpected visit from Marnie’s grandmother, we gradually notice an underlying presence of unexplainable phenomena. We soon discover, along with Marnie, that like her grandmother, she too is half-witch. With her younger siblings Dylan and Sophie, Marnie follows her grandmother to her home in the strange world of Halloweentown. Her newfound powers are soon tested by an evil presence overtaking the dimension.
Halloweentown is a timeless feel-good film with the added wonder of youthful nostalgia, a depiction of the infinite possibilities that seemed to surround our childhoods. As I’m transported into the wonder of Halloweentown, I can’t help but appreciate the beauty of all the weirdness the film explores - from the skeleton with a day-job as a taxi-driver, to the giant pumpkin monumented in the town square. Marnie is a representation of everything I wish I had been when I was thirteen; unconventional and proud of it. This film is a perfect reminder that the best things in life are often the ones we can’t explain and that the things that make us different also make us important.
— McKenna Blackshire
Vampires vs. The Bronx (2020), directed by Osmany Rodriguez
Look out Stranger Things, there's a new gang of bike riding teens in town, only this time they’re battling vampires and gentrification in the Bronx. One of Netflix’s newest additions to their catalog is the comedic horror film Vampires vs. The Bronx, directed by Osmany Rodriguez and written by Osmany Rodriguez and Blaise Hemingway. The film follows Miguel, Bobby, Luis, and Rita, (Jaden Michael, Gerald W. Jones III, Greg Diaz IV, and Coco Jones), as they fight off bloodsuckers who are overtaking their beloved neighborhood. At times, the film takes on the tone of a Home Alone movie with quick-paced game-plan montages, while sprinkling in enough comedic one-liners from the ragtag team of Bronx residents to keep it light when needed. While watching the build-up to the final act gave me more satisfaction than the final act itself, the movie was overall a nice surprise. Vampires vs. The Bronx has a great spin on the common folk versus vampire genre while raising awareness of the very prominent issues civilians face today regarding gentrification. This would be a great movie to queue up for the spooky season for a family night, or if you aren't in the mood for sleeping with the lights on.
— Lexi Notrica
ParaNorman (2012), directed by Chris Butler, Sam Fell
ParaNorman watches as eleven-year-old Norman, a boy with the ability to speak with the dead, is tasked with protecting his town from the wrath of vengeful spirits of women murdered for witchcraft. There is so much to appreciate about the film: the artistry of the stop-motion animation, the intricacies of the plot, and even the multi-faceted character structures (we especially love when Queer characters aren’t reduced to stereotypes!).
What I find especially unique about ParaNorman is that, although deriving from a traditional horror film plot structure, it has an added element of emotional complexity that I have rarely encountered in higher caliber horror films. It’s a film where we, as the audience, find ourselves empathizing for both the protagonists and the antagonists, which makes the viewing experience quite fascinating. Furthermore, the storyline presents a commentary on the historical events, which I found undeniably refreshing - it proves how important it is to highlight the humanity behind the tragedies on which our country, (the US), was based. Overall, ParaNorman is able to intertwine a variety of different genres and different approaches to film with poignancy and grace.
— McKenna Blackshire
Sleepaway Camp (1983), directed by Robert Hiltzik
I first encountered this absolutely unhinged B-movie as part of a film class on gender in horror, and its appearance on the syllabus received mixed reactions. Some had not heard of the film, and those who had shared strong opinions on its character choices. Sleepaway Camp takes place at Camp Arawak and follows shy teenager Angela, who, before long, becomes involved with unexplained, gruesome deaths throughout the camp. Infamously, and at the necessary risk of partially spoiling, Sleepaway Camp speaks rather brashly to contemporary debates regarding LGBTQ+ representation and how earnest representation can be if these identities are a source of horror and repulsion. Some members of the queer community admire this outrageous film and find the character of Angela, (and her ‘dark secret’), an alternative and iconic figure, enthralling in her dysfunctional experience. Others have deemed this film fundamentally problematic, with its perspectives misunderstood at best and harmful at worst.
The film’s slasher inclinations make for a generally unthreatening film in terms of terror, but one that treads a precarious line of queer insertions and problematic representations of such. Sleepaway Camp feels like an act of improvisation; a near-perfect blend of deliberately cringe-worthy tropes, 80’s costumes, and high-camp homoerotica. To go in blind to its narrative twists and turns is highly recommended.
— Jessica Moore
The Little Vampire (2000), directed by Uli Edell
This film is a classic tale of a powerful friendship between two extraordinarily different individuals who, through their relationship, realize they are much more similar than they originally believed. The Little Vampire tells of nine-year-old Tony who has just moved from Scotland from California due to his father’s job. Tony struggles to adapt to his new environment, and this isn’t helped by the fact he’s been having strange dreams about comets and vampires. Soon, Tony accidentally encounters young vampire Rudolph and finds himself thrown into a battle between vampires and vampire hunters.
The Little Vampire depicts many elements of Gothic horror through its exploration of life, death, nature, and humanity. Moreover, the film skillfully navigates the intersections between the historical and the modern. An absolutely stunning film graphically, this film is also a bittersweet allegory for phenomena rooted in prejudice and the fear of difference. Overall, this film is a testament to the importance of compassion and connection.
— McKenna Blackshire
The Craft (1996), directed by Andrew Fleming
1996 was a memorable year for teen-scream cinema. Scream is a product of the same year, but, as the lesser-known of the two, The Craft best suits the criteria. In turns unequivocally angsty, The Craft assimilates the cliches of being a ‘new girl’ at school to the camp-magic sub-genre of teen witches. Scaled down to teenage interests, the coven casts spells on enemies by way of hair loss, and afford themselves Barbie-esque hair which shifts in colour. It is exactly how one would imagine 90s witchcraft and teenage vanity would merge together.
While The Craft is antecedent to kindred women-led teen films Clueless and Mean Girls, it operates on an entirely separate plane of self-awareness. Its leanings into magic and horror make for an amalgamation of exaggerated characters, and tenderly stereotypical depictions of teenage girls: vocal fry, boy conflict, high drama. Because these stereotypes are the backdrop to the girls’ supernatural powers, those which climax to absolute chaos in the final act, the girls are seen to navigate a kind of hyper-reality. Even during moments of mundanity, there is no indication that the girls are intended to be viewed as real people; they are closer to characters in a Halloween-themed video-game. It is precisely this surreal, cartoonish quality that yields high-camp mastery and makes for an essential teen-movie.
— Jessica Moore
The Slumber Party Massacre (1982), directed by Amy Holden Jones
Expectedly, the moment a woman is behind the camera of a slasher, the genre’s notorious over-sexualisation of female victims is re-established as an act of self-awareness and tongue-in-cheek. The Slumber Party Massacre’s premise is generic: eighteen-year-old high schooler Trish is home alone for the night and is joined by her girlfriends for a slumber party. All the while, prison escapee and mass-murdering Russ, armed with a propensity for power tools, wreaks havoc on the girls.
While the story is unmoored from convention and cliche, The Slumber Party Massacre takes turns towards camp, through stylised cinematography and a women-led reclamation of the slasher film. Amy Holden Jones, who was at one time Martin Scorsese’s assistant on the set of Taxi Driver, brings a breath of fresh air to a genre sterilised by hyper-masculine violence and female victimisation. Jones positions horny boys as silly victims, girls as the owners of the camera’s gaze, and reconciles the blatant ridiculousness of the slasher formula with playfulness and femininity.
— Jessica Moore
Scary Godmother (2003), directed by Ezekiel Norton
Although it carries stylistic similarities to Tim Burton’s classic, The Nightmare Before Christmas, this Halloween film bears overtones of warmth and sweet innocence. The film tells us of young Hannah Marie as she overcomes her fear of monsters with the help of her “Scary Godmother”. In a way similar to The Little Vampire, the film provides a commentary on how we’re all not as different as we’d like to believe, with the added excitement of vampires, skeletons, and werewolves. When Hannah finds herself transported out of her little suburbia and into Scary Godmother’s house, she is initially terrified of all the strange characters she meets. As she interacts with them, she sees their goodness and how they’re not quite as unusual as she’d initially believed - the skeleton loves to dance and the werewolf eats pizza. This film is charming and lovely in every sense, and it’s the perfect representation of all the wonders of Halloween.
— McKenna Blackshire