And so it ended in 2002, at least until Rob Zombie would completely reboot the franchise in 2007. Rick Rosenthal, director of the not-bad Halloween II (1981), returned for this last hurrah in which Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis, looking like she thought H20 was supposed to be the last one) is dispatched within the first ten minutes — from there, we look on helplessly as a reality TV producer (Busta Rhymes, reduced to saying inevitable things like “Trick or treat, motherfu**er!”) sets up cameras in Michael Myers’ childhood house and dares a bunch of college kids to spend Hallowen night in the killer’s abode. And, wouldn’t you know it — Michael comes home! Halloween Resurrection is a clumsy, crass, witless endurance test that tarnishes the memory of its not-bad immediate predecessor, Halloween H20 — not even Rhymes can salvage this mess that tries to cash in on both the Halloween franchise and the reality TV craze. Rosenthal makes the whole thing feel like a cheap TV movie with bad words, bloody killings and a topless would-be sex scene that of course gets interrupted by you-know-who. Sleep tight, Michael — for a little while, anyway.
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New On Netflix: Halloween Resurrection