Sunday, April 5, 2020

"The Last Halloween":

Copyright 2020 by Gary L. Pullman

The synopsis for The Last Halloween (2014), a short horror film based on the comic book of the same title by Mark Thibodeau, got me: “As they go from house to house, four young trick-or-treaters collect strange treats that could signal the end of Halloween.”

What are the “strange treats”? Why are they given? What do they signify? Why might they “signal the end of Halloween”?


We are introduced to the four trick-or-treaters, a ghost (Jake Goodman), a witch (Zoe Fraser), the Grim Reaper (Drew Davis), and the devil (Brebdan Heard), as they visit the first of the three houses shown in the short.


A knock at the front door of the first house summons a woman in a pink knit cap (Angela Besharah). Without disengaging the chain-lock, she opens her door a crack, peering warily through the gap. “Wait here,” she orders, returning a moment later with the child's “treat”: a can of pet food. “You be careful out there,” the woman cautions her visitor. The ghost accepts the item without protest, and the group of children move on.

At this point, there is only a few hints that something is wrong: the woman's odd behavior, her strange “treat,” and the cheapness of the ghost's costume—a dirty sheet.

Other clues emerge as the film progresses. There are no streetlights. The next house the children visit, a dark, boarded-up ramshackle affair, looks abandoned. Why would the trick-or-treaters waste their time stopping at such a house? Perhaps they are about to play a “trick”?


Only two of the children, Sam the devil and Janet the witch, appear bold enough to knock at the door; both the ghost and the Grim Reaper wait on the sidewalk in front of the property. The face of the homeowner (Julian Richings), a man with pustules on his face, appears in a gap between planks covering the doorway. “Aren't you a little late to be out this young?” he asks, his inverted syntax another clue, as is the condition of his residence, that all is not well in the suburbs. “Especially with the—” he breaks off his thought, gesturing instead, and disappears inside his house, saying he will see what he can find.

Returning, he admits, “It's not much, I'm afraid,” and drops a plastic bat into the devil's plastic pail. Once again, the offering is accepted without complaint. The man tells Sam that he should “manage more than anyone,” since he is “the devil. Lucifer, Beelzebub, The Horned One.” He cackles as his visitors depart.

The adults whom the children visit seem increasingly disturbed. The woman appeared wary, if not paranoid, and her “treat,” a can of pet food, is bizarre, to say the least. However, she is dressed in ordinary attire, the lights are on in her house, and the house itself appears to be in good repair. She is concerned about the children's safety, bidding them to “be careful.”

The second adult has suffered physical harm, and he seems much less mentally stable than the woman. He lives in an abandoned, boarded-up house, without lights, and offers a plastic bat as a “treat.” His speech includes inverted syntax. He alludes to some mysterious incident, and seems to mistake Sam for the actual devil, calling him “Lucifer.” “Beelzebub,” and “The Horned One.”

However, something is off about the children as well. They are not disturbed by the bizarre “treats” they are given, and they are not afraid of visiting a dark, boarded-up, seemingly abandoned house. They accept the odd behavior of the adults as though neither the adults' odd conduct nor their strange gifts are all that unusual.

The third scene is the longest and most detailed. This time, the trick-or-treaters, passing a sign labeled “EVACUATION ZONE,” visit a house behind a tall wrought-iron fence. A bank of floodlights illuminates as their approach to the property activates a motion sensor.


On the wall above a fireplace, rifles are mounted. A fire burns in the fireplace. A made-up cot stands before the fireplace. A man observes images of the children that are delivered to his computer through a closed-circuit television camera. Outside, his own image appears on a monitor, as he tells the children to “go away.” One of the children, her image appearing on his own monitor, responds, “trick or treat.”



A young woman inside the house looks at a bassinet; it is empty except for a teddy bear. The man tells his visitors to leave, warning them that “bad things happen to trespassers.” The woman inside the house looks down, from a second-story, through a lattice of boards; outside, the trick-or-treaters see her watching them. Downstairs, the man, armed, now, with a rifle, calls to the woman, “Kate! Get down here!”
 
The children have not left; they continue to cry “trick or treat,” and the man continues to tell them to leave. Carrying a lantern and coughing into a handkerchief, the woman descends a flight of stairs; calling the man “Jack,” she says that maybe they should admit the children, as they could need help or might be hungry. Watching the monitor, he sees the children depart and tells the woman, Kate (Emily Alatalo), his wife, that they seem to be leaving. She coughs more, showing her husband the bruise on her neck.


Jack (Ron Basch) says they can't take any more chances, as it is not safe to “open the door to anyone anymore.” He argues, further, that the kids “could be infected” or “crazy,” pointing out that “they think it's Halloween.” Kate's reply, “I think it is Halloween,” suggests that it may be either Jake and the kids or Kate who is deluded. Kate, showing Jack the bruise on her neck, implies that nothing can protect them.

Jake checks the monitor; when he turns around, Kate is gone. The front door slams. The ghost trick-or-treater appears in the room, behind Jack. Arming himself with his rifle, which he had set aside, Jack demands to know what the ghost has done with his wife. When the child does not answer, Jack tells him to take food and leave, but the ghost says, “It's too late, Jaaaccckkk.”

Approaching the trick-or-treater, Jack pulls the sheet off the child, only to discover that, beneath it, is an actual ghost (Ali Adatia). The other children, now adults, appear, repeating, “It's too late, Jack.” The child in the devil costume becomes an actual devil (Adrian G. Griffiths), and the other two trick-or-treaters also transform into the figures represented by their respective costumes, those of the Grim Reaper (Alastair Forbes) and the witch (Kristina Uranowski).

As they surround him, the front door opens, and Jack sees Kate, kneeling on the porch. After a moment, she vanishes, Surrounding him, the monsters move in on him, and the Grim Reaper embraces him. “Happy Halloween,” it says.

The children leave the house, in their original costumes, as fires burn in the windows. After one of the fires in an upstairs window explodes, the camera pans up, showing that other houses, for miles around, are also on fire, as are high-rise buildings in the city beyond.


This short does a good job of introducing bizarre elements that become explicable over a period of time, as details accumulate which, when combined, provide a context for interpreting the whole situation of which the individual elements are each but a part. In other words, the introductions of these details are like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle (the film as a whole) that the audience (following the lead of director Marc Roussel) put together, incident by incident, until the whole picture is discernible and intelligible as a unified and coherent whole.

This initially piecemeal delivery of specific, isolated details also heightens the horrific tone of the film, its mystery, and its suspense. Each incident is disquieting in itself: the wary woman, the madman, and the housebound survivalist are each, in their own ways, disturbing.

As we move from house to house, the domiciles become worse and worse, as do the inhabitants. What appears abnormal (canned pet food for a Halloween “treat,” inverted syntax and facial injuries, a dead or abducted baby, and a young wife wasting away of some disease while her husband and protector slowly loses contact with reality) seems, in the world of the film, to be normal, while that which is normal (trick-or-treating, wearing traditional Halloween costumes, visiting neighborhood houses on Halloween) appears, increasingly, to be abnormal.

The world is upside-down and inside-out, and it's every man, woman, and child for him- or herself. At first, we have no idea what has happened to the suburbanites the children visit. Then, a clue: the “EVACUATION ZONE” sign. There has been an evacuation. Apparently, for whatever reason, the residents who remain in the suburbs have been left behind. Now, they are facing the consequences: paranoia, madness, self-isolation, distrust of others, sickness, and death.


The parallels to the coronoavirus pandemic are striking, although unintended. (The film was released in 2014; the pandemic began in 2020). Neighbors isolate themselves from everyone else, staying in their homes. They are wary, even paranoid. One couple takes extreme measures, hoarding food and taking refuge in their home. 

Not everyone survives: the bassinet is empty, as are many of the houses in the neighborhood. Food seems to be in short supply: the kids' “treats” include canned pet food and a plastic bat. The crisis is not local; it affects other communities, including at least one nearby city, and there has been an organized evacuation of the affected areas. These similarities, of course, make the short even eerier and more disturbing, even if they have no direct relationship to the coronaviruss pandemic.


Just as the coronavirus has brought out the worst in some people—those who hoard essential supplies, engage in price gouging, spit on produce, ignore government directives for minimizing health risks, boast of their luxurious accommodations, and complain about minor inconveniences—the catastrophe that has befallen the communities in The Last Halloween brings out the worst in some of the movie's cast of characters. Jack refuses to open his door to the trick-or-treaters, refuses to help them, refuses to share his horde of food with them, is prepared to kill them. 

The children themselves are transformed into monsters. They are unforgiving toward Jack. They have laid waste to the neighborhood and, the end of the film suggests, to others communities as well. Under the right—or the wrong—circumstances, anyone, the movie implies, could be a Jack, a ghost, a Grim Reaper, a witch, or a devil.

On a positive note, however, it is possible, also, to be generous, even if wary: the woman who gives the ghost a can of her pet food offers something from her larder that she could have eaten herself. The type of the item—pet food—suggests the desperation in which she finds herself: she is so hungry and so low on food supplies that she is willing to eat pet food. Despite such extremity, she is, nevertheless, willing to share what she can. Her act of self-sacrifice, although bizarre, is also heroic. She represents the opposite extreme of Jack, the alternative to his self-centeredness, which excludes any others, except his wife, whom, ironically, he is unable to save.


No comments:

Post a Comment