Someone calls you on the phone. Already, this is a nightmare, but we’re not at the scary part yet. Let’s pretend you answer it. They ask, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” Your pulse races, sweat builds on your brow, and your voice begins to quiver. If you’re anything like me, this just became your favorite conversation ever. I love horror. The rush of a jump scare. The artistry of a well-executed kill. The familiarity of a formula and the thrill of upended expectations. Horror is malleable; there are at least as many fears as there are people on Earth, and my favorite subset is the Slasher.

What Defines Slasher Horror and Why It Resonates

What do I mean by Slasher? Not to be confused with slash fiction, which has its own merits, the dictionary definition reads thusly: a horror movie, especially one in which victims (typically women or teenagers) are slashed with knives and razors.

Simple. Clean. Anything but easy. For every The Strangers, there’s a The Strangers – Chapter Three. But the takeaway, at least my focus here, is that the killers in these movies are human, attack with everyday means, and therefore can be defeated by everyday means. And I find them extremely inspiring.

Supernatural Horror vs Slasher Horror: Where Hope Disappears

Hereditary is an astoundingly original and disturbing horror film with an ending that betrays everything that came before it. I absolutely loved jumping at every mouth click, the eerie presence of being watched by white-clad cultists, and a mother’s descent into madness brought on by generational trauma. I was all in! Then came the demon king Paimon. Any human connection we had, and the unrelenting tragedy the Graham family has had to endure, seems to have been for naught.

It is my contention that the film loses all of its dramatic umph the moment Toni Collette starts climbing walls and sawing off her head. You can’t beat a demon! You never had a chance. I love supernatural horror (my favorite series of any genre is The Evil Dead), but it does not leave you any room for victory, for the audience to think that “YES WE’VE WON” before having the rug pulled out from under once again (see Drag Me To Hell for the exception, not the rule). I like Midsommar more for that very reason; Florence Pugh’s Dani makes a choice. The horror comes because of human action, not an overpowering of it.

Why Human Villains Make Horror More Relatable and Beatable

People scare me. Aliens, ghosts, ghouls, imps, devils, and the like also scare me. But when a film’s villain is decidedly human, the horror hits harder because it can happen to us. Slashers deal with “the real” (again: knives, razors); they can be defeated. No film franchise better exemplifies this than Scream. In the first Scream, we see Sydney and the rest of the Scooby Gang kick/punch/evade Ghostface as he gets knocked down, falls, stumbles, and bumbles his way through the film while also scaring the ever-living crap out of some teens. These trips and slips add a layer of relatability to our evil purser.

I may not be able to see myself terrorizing an entire high school, but I sure know it hurts to fall down the stairs. Ghostface is the ur-example of defeatability. Yes, he gets up again, but part of the genius is that there typically are two (or more) people sharing a mask, so whoever just took a stomach kick or a tumble on the lawn probably has some rest time between games, as it were. This faceless evil is seemingly everywhere, popping out from any doorway and around every corner, but we can defeat it with a well-placed shove or a bullet to the head.

How the Scream Franchise Shows Horror Villains Can Be Defeated

Scream 2 followed much of the same suit (and taught us to never underestimate Laurie Metcalf). Give or take your suspension of disbelief about how good voice changers have gotten, the same could be said for Scream 3 and the return to form of Scream 4.

Where the franchise begins to lose its luster is in 5CREAM (pronounced as intended five cream). A fairly fun reboot until the appearance of one Billy Ghost Gruff. The moment we bring in ghosts (or visions brought on by blood memory, however they explained Billy Loomis showing up) into a slasher, out goes the fun and the understanding that this is something to be defeated.

Scream 6 has some great bits, but Ghostface doesn’t need a gun to scare us, and the less said about Scream 7, the better.

Horror Sequels and the Problem With Unkillable Villains

We want someone to survive. Not always (see any Final Destination), but if a horror film has done its job well, we should care about the characters and what has happened to them. That is, until we see them go through the same circumstances again and again and again, and this time with roman numerals.

Let’s take a look at Laurie Strode. In the original Halloween, she survives vicious attacks by Michael Myers, who is just a guy. A scary guy for sure. A guy with “no reason, no conscience, no understanding in even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, of good or evil, right or wrong”. But a guy nonetheless. We see his face!

People forget that Michael’s mask comes off, and there in all terrifying glory is… a dude who looks like he gave himself the nickname T-Bone. “But what about when he is shot and falls out of a second-story window, he gets up again,” you scream at your computer, “doesn’t that prove he’s more than a man?!” That’s exactly my point. At the end of Halloween (1976), we can presume Michael will go die in the brush like an injured animal, with his disappearance serving as a stark reminder that evil is inside and around all of us. Roll credits. Cue that funky synth score and play us off, John Carpenter to never visit Haddenfield again… what’s that? Halloween was a huge success? Massive return on investment? Nevermind! Money, as they say, is the root of all evil, and that has never been more apparent than in the horror movie business.

How Horror Franchises Remove the Possibility of Victory

This is why Michael Myers came back for 6 sequels, 2 reboots, and 3 requels, not counting the solitary spinoff. Horror makes money, a lot of it. One of the best ways a new filmmaker can break in is to make a successful horror film (heck, I am trying it myself). But with the franchising comes expectations. We need bigger kills; a cast of fresh-faced future stars; our original protagonist needs to hand over the reins, but also be on call for every iteration. And the villain CAN NOT DIE.

If our face of the franchise is taken off the board, how else are we going to milk him for all he’s worth? This is how we go from Michael Myers: the escaped institutionalized murderer, to Michael Myers: the embodiment of evil, who can also infect others with it literally, not inspirationally (hashtag opposite of justice for Corey Cunningham). Or in simpler terms, they took The Slumber Party Massacre killer, who used a stolen power drill to kill with impunity, and made him the personification of rockabilly killer with a drill on an electric guitar who kills with a song in his heart and hips that don’t lie and can’t die in Slumber Party Massacre II.

Yes, objectively cool. But The Driller Killer is not someone you can outrun.

HORROR IS A MIRROR (THIS IS WRITTEN IN LIPSTICK AS SOON AS YOU GET OUT OF THE SHOWER)

Horror has the great opportunity to reflect. It is the most immediate of film genres. What is scary today can be made into a movie tomorrow. What was scary 3 decades ago is often still scary today. When we see someone in a mask with a knife in their hand, it’s perfectly understandable to run. Scream. Panic. But if in your escape, you throw a pot of hot coffee on them and they are scalded, you have a chance. You can win. And the first step in winning is believing you can.

Why Modern Horror Needs Survivable Stories Again

Horror should not always be about impossible situations. We want heroes we can root for because we see ourselves in them. We want to yell at the screen, “Don’t go in there!” because we want them to survive. Or know that we wouldn’t be that dumb to split up the group.

As horror has moved on from its slasher heyday and into “the monster is actually our trauma,” this unexpected consequence has taken a toll. Life feels incredibly hard right now because we are not seeing villains we can defeat.

The Hope at the Heart of Slasher Horror

To quote a GREAT slasher (yes, Predator is a slasher and Arnold Schwarzenegger is a fabulous final girl), “If it bleeds, we can kill it”. If it bleeds, we can win. There is no great conspiracy; villains are dumber than they appear, and we’re stronger than we think.

So answer the phone, you’ll be alright.

The violence of the last decade has been practically insurmountable. Every day, there seems to be another attempt to destroy democracy and turn the United States into a full-blown dictatorship. You could argue it’s already here, and you wouldn’t be wrong. When the 2024 election results were called, declaring Trump the president for the second time, my heart dropped in a way it never had before. I was gutted, because I paid attention and knew what was going to happen. The last year has been nothing but a whirlwind of destruction and chaos. I didn’t think I’d survive, but horror has been a safe space where I can retreat, find joy, and get some much-needed catharsis. Steven Miner’s Halloween H20: Twenty Years Later has been that refuge, a place I can call home and wash away the anxieties of the day.

Halloween H20: A Defining Theatrical Experience

I first saw the film when I was 12 years old. I recall that evening perfectly. I’d begged my mom to take me to the theater to see it. I’d grown up with John Carpenter’s 1978 classic and the sequel–fun fact, my little kid brain never knew and/or realized that 3-6 even existed until later, doh! I was buzzing with excitement. We got a big tub of popcorn, some Coke, and settled into our seats. We were near the back, and the theater was absolutely packed. The crowd jumped in all the right spots and gasped in all the right spots. And the reaction I remember most came with the ending, when Laurie Strode finally chopped off Michael Myers’ head. The applause. The cheers. The goosebumps. To this day, that moment remains the best ending to the franchise–sorry, Halloween Ends, I love ya, but Halloween H20 did it better. (Halloween Resurrection doesn’t exist.)

These days, I look at the film through the lens of a much greater conversation, as a mirror reflection of the world today. It’s not just some slasher flick. It’s changed shape for me over the last 28 years (my god, I am old!). Laurie Strode, as played by Jamie Lee Curtis, is emblematic of the marginalized, always fighting against an oppressive system. But Laurie also resembles the role white women play in a patriarchal society in how they frequently vote against their own interests because they believe they are untouchable. Who cares if others suffer? In Halloween H20, Laurie finally wakes up from her nightmare-like haze and realizes that for things to change, she must intentionally put her body on the front lines.

Frankenstein, Responsibility, and the Cost of Inaction

As Molly (Michelle Williams) points out in the classroom about Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein: “I think that Victor should have confronted the monster sooner. He’s completely responsible for Elizabeth’s death because he was so paralyzed by fear that he never did anything. It took death for the guy to get a clue. Victor had reached a point in his life where he had nothing left to lose. I mean, the monster saw to that by killing off everybody that he loved. Victor finally had to face it. It was about redemption… it was his fate.”

It’s the fighting back–prevalent throughout the film–that brings such joy and gives me real hope for the future of this very weird and very depressing timeline in which we find ourselves. In the opening, Marion Chambers (Nancy Stephens) returns in a big way. After discovering the dead bodies of her neighbor Jimmy (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and his buddy Tony (Branden Williams), it’s fight, flight, or freeze for our favorite nurse. In a moment of sheer determination, she grabs a fire poker and slams it into the back of Michael Myers’ head. Police lights bounce off his white mask, but his eyes are now dead-set on Marion, who puts up one helluva fight and gets a few good licks in before he slices her neck. It sucks that she died, but it’s joyous seeing her fight to the death. She isn’t about to go down easily. That spirit carries itself into the film’s main plot and doesn’t let up until the end credits.

Less Blood, More Emotion: A Different Kind of Slasher

Halloween H20 also relies far less on a high body count, unlike all the other sequels. Instead, it focuses on Laurie’s emotional reckoning. After John (Josh Hartnett) and Molly (Michelle Williams) find Sarah’s (Jodi Lyn O’Keefe) lifeless body swinging from a light fixture, they come face to face with pure evil. The film then really kicks into high gear. Like Marion, Molly proves to be as much of a fighter. When Michael stabs John in the leg, she picks up a rock and knocks Michael to the ground like a bowling pin. The chase scene, one of the best in horror history and one that doesn’t get nearly enough credit, raises the stakes. Michael forces his giant butcher’s knife through the iron-wrought bars and slashes within inches of their faces–fun fact: a real knife was used, and the fear on their faces was very, very real. The moment ends when Laurie sees John and Molly through the porthole window, unlocks the door for them to escape, and reunites with her brother after 20 years.

That confrontation triggers the franchise’s best final act. The “MICHAEL!” scream lives within the walls of the horror pantheon–the “Halloween” theme makes it even more special. There’s the fire extinguisher! The axe! The flag pole! The whole drawer of knives! The stabbings until Michael tumbles off the banister! But the real iconic moment comes when Laurie sneakily clutches the axe, now laid across a cop car, snatches a policeman’s gun, and hijacks the coroner’s van. She puts the pedal to the metal and vrooms out into the darkness. Michael comes ripping out of the body bag and attempts to strangle Laurie, but she instinctively brakes, and he goes flying out of the windshield. Running him over, he grabs onto the window frame, and Laurie just smirks.

Laurie Strode’s Victory and Breaking the Cycle of Violence

“Even if I die, he must die,” she seems to think. The van goes rolling down a massive, forested hill. Michael crashes into an overturned tree, and the now-destroyed van crushes him. Laurie, face battered and bruised and bleeding, clenches the axe and walks up to him. “Michael!” she says. For a fleeting moment, she extends her arms, perhaps hoping that he could have been a real brother. But it’s short-lived. She smiles, takes one big, full-chested swing, and chops his mother-fucking head clean off. It rolls into the camera’s view. And it’s done.

Laurie Strode triumphantly faced and slayed her monster. It took her 20 years, but she ate. She looked down the barrel of the gun and said, “Not today, Satan!” She could have very easily died, but that was a risk she was willing to take. In one full swoop, she ended the cycle of violence once and for all. That victorious conclusion serves as a reminder that we all have the strength inside of us to conquer our demons. We just have to wake up and see the world around us. It might take some time, but we can and will ultimately cut off the head of the dragon. We have to be patient, vigilant, and unwavering. It’s the only way.

Halloween H20, Hope, and Finding Strength in Dark Times

All these years later, Halloween H20 still gives me sheer ecstasy, knowing that dawn always breaks after the darkest periods of our existence. Trump won’t be alive or president forever, even if that means a full-blown revolution and overthrowing the government. He will either die or be removed from office. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched this movie–easily hundreds by now–and I’m always reminded of this fact: Trump’s reign of terror will, undoubtedly, come to a vicious end. Halloween H20 fuels me. It empowers me. It brings me immense joy. And it gives me hope that tomorrow will be better. I’ll make sure of it.