Category Archives: Editorials

Tainted Candy: The Most Unnerving Scene In “Halloween II”

I’ve said it a million times. HALLOWEEN II is by far, in my humble opinion anyway, the scariest of the franchise and is rightfully so for many reasons. HALLOWEEN II goes harder in just about every aspect, from the angrier music as a metaphor for a more pissed-off Myers, to the minute details scattered around the film. One in particular, shoved in by John Carpenter that is brief in nature, but perhaps the most fucked up moment in the whole movie.

And it had nothing to do with Michael Myers.

While Laurie Strode is being tended to her wounds by a drunken Dr. Mixter inside Haddonfield Memorial, a car pulls up to the front of the entrance with a frantic mother gently easing her son dressed as a pirate, out of the car and the kid is gushing blood from his mouth as we can see something shiny stuck up in there good. ‘m going to be completely honest because when I saw this as a kid, I thought it was a fuckin’ ice cube. Maybe it was the low definition on my crappy TV, but I went for YEARS thinking this kid had an ice cube stuck in his mouth. Did it make sense? Not a bit. Did I ever question it? Hell no. All I understood was that shit looked like it hurt and when I finally found out it was an actual razor blade from a piece of candy, it was like an emphatic moment of HOLY SHIT for me, and it just made that movie so much scarier.

We only see the mom and son duo two more times-once checking in and being told to wait as the frustrated mom is putting pressure on her kid’s jaw, and then again upon discharge outside the hospital where Gary French (yes, the kid actually has a name) and mom Leigh, (hey, so does the mom!) attempt to have a conversation, but the kid’s words are muddled from the injury and although Gary lives to see another Halloween, he’s obviously scarred for life.

Watching (and realizing) what I was seeing within that scene as a child, and now a parent myself, just makes it that much more chilling knowing these things have absolutely happened. The genius of John Carpenter sticking this out-of-pocket, non-essential plot point in HALLOWEEN II, comes on the heels of mass hysteria of stories of crazed people tainting candy for trick-or-treaters with poison and, of course, razor blades. The first documented incidents go back to the 1950s, where a California dentist laced over 400 pieces of candy with laxatives, sickening over 30 kids. As if kids aren’t scared enough of the dentist! Another incident came in the 1960s where a mother in New York handed out bags of treats containing arsenic-laced ant traps, metal mesh scrubbing pads and dog biscuits. In the 70s, a boy was killed by ingesting a pixie stick laced with cyanide by his own father, who used the legend of poisoned treated on Halloween to attempt to thwart the suspicion away from him. In Minneapolis, in 2000, James J. Smith, 49, was charged with felony adulteration after four teenagers told police they received chocolate bars that were later found to contain needles. As recent as 2022, a child in New York found a razor blade inside a candy bar she got while trick-or-treating. Bringing this John Carpenter’s horrifying scene here, full circle.

PSAs began in the early 70s, warning children and parents about Halloween dangers in the form of educational videos, and after the infamous Tylenol murders of 1982, one year after the release of HALLOWEEN II, the fears of product tampering reached an all-time high, especially around Halloween, and in 1985, another national PSA video was made containing fifteen-minutes beginning with glorious Ben Cooper masks dancing across the screen to some serious disco music. It tackles such pressing issues as the importance of safe pumpkin carving, costume dos and don’ts, and the all-important candy inspection before digging into your sugar haul for the night. 

Seriously, this thing rocks. Sure, it’s slightly dated, but the message still applies.

Many people shrug off the Halloween candy story as just that, a scary story. And while it’s true, most cases of reports seem to be unfounded and the biggest threat of a kid’s Halloween bucket is a sugar-induced stomachache, urban legends notoriously become reality in the minds of crazed folks where the myth turned into a real-life danger for unknowing innocents. Knowing that John Carpenter really didn’t want to do a sequel to his immortal classic and had a vision of his Halloween films exploring the horror holiday’s urban legends and cautionary tales of lore, this scene in itself, doesn’t seem so, out-of-pocket after all. Speaking plainly now, it truly is the most unnerving part of the entire film as the reality lines blur from Terminator Myers hunting down Laurie in a hospital, into something we know has, can, and may happen again somewhere; and that’s what makes it so terrifying.

So, is this scene the most messed up in the movie? I’ll let Dr. Loomis answer that one…

HAPPY ACCIDENTS: THAT TIME BOB ROSS DEFEATED DEADITES

To the glee of horror aficionados, Shudder’s CREEPSHOW is teeming with Easter eggs, and no episode filled the basket quite like the Season 2 debut chaser, “Public Television of the Dead.”

The set-up alone was intoxicating. A play on ANTIQUES ROADSHOW featuring EVIL DEAD veteran Ted Raimi querying about a book he’d had “in [his] fruit cellar for years.” Of course, Raimi was playing himself, the book in question was the Necronomicon, and the Pittsburgh-based station (hello Romero reference) even featured a program with a puppet named–you guessed it–Henrietta. When the host of THE APPRAISER’S ROAD TRIP began reading the “wretched incantations,” all hell broke loose. But in the next studio, a gentleman who struck a striking resemblance to Bob Ross was filming, not THE JOY OF PAINTING but THE LOVE OF PAINTING. Played to placid perfection by Mark Ashworth, the character of Norm Roberts was merely Ross’ given name rearranged: Robert Norman Ross.

Fresh off a floating and brilliantly delivered “pledge to us,” Raimi’s Deadite wandered onto Roberts’ set, and the calm craftsman immediately leapt to action, confronting Raimi with a cool “I don’t know who you are, sir. But if you’re not gonna behave, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” Battle ensued. From a 2-inch brush to paint thinner and making a Gattling gun out of a snowblower, Norm went full MacGuyver, utilizing the tools of his trade to decimate Deadites. “We’re gonna beat the Devil out of you.” To the surprise of no one, Roberts saved the day, and his show–which was slated for cancellation–went national.

On its face, the premise of the episode seems outlandish, but it’s closer to the truth than you might think. The Roberts character was supposed to be a Vietnam veteran who fought on the front lines of the Tet Offensive in 1968, and believe it or not, Ross was a service veteran. Joining the United States Air Force in 1961, the not-yet-permed-painter was a medical records technician before being stationed in Alaska where he discovered a love for the snow and mountains that would inhabit so many of his works. Ross rose to the rank of master sergeant, but after acting as the heavy who was “the guy who makes you scrub the latrine, the guy who makes you make your bed, the guy who screams at you for being late to work,” upon discharge Ross vowed he would never raise his voice again.

Simply stated, “Public Television of the Dead” was a love letter to Ross. THE JOY OF PAINTING aired for eleven years (1983-1994) and thanks to its magical host, enjoys a cult following to this day. Bob Ross’ official YouTube channel has over 5.6 million subscribers as of October 26, and one episode alone–the Season 29 opener–boasts of 45 million views. And by the way, the color code for Van Dyke brown is #664228. If you know, you know.

Who among us doesn’t reflect on childhood afternoons watching in awe as Ross painted amazing scene after amazing scene, his words of encouragement and love a ray of sunshine acting as a soothing salve for the lashes of life. To this day, when I need a calm voice to help slow my mind so I can sleep, I pull up an episode of THE JOY OF PAINTING because Bob Ross was who we–and episode writer Rob Schrab–thought he was: a superhero.

“I think each of us, sometime in our life, has wanted to paint a picture.” For many of us, it’s because Bob Ross existed. The serene sculptor would have been 81 today, and as we celebrate the memory of someone who touched us all, we echo Ashworth’s Roberts: “good night, day. Thank you for everything.”

WHEN FANCY TALK IS ALL YOU HAVE

“If precautions weren’t strong enough you should have told somebody.”

“I TOLD EVERYBODY! Nobody listened.”

Ironic that HALLOWEEN purists overwhelmingly detest the Rob Zombie re-imaginings because something the polarizing filmmaker once said in an interview with WatchMojo.com perfectly encapsulates Samuel Loomis:

“You just have to go through life knowing you’re right and everyone else can go fuck themselves.”

Whether it was colleagues questioning his observations or local law enforcement scoffing at his warnings, Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasence) found his assertions challenged at every turn. After all, why would anybody believe the one person who’d spent every day for fifteen years with Michael Aubrey Myers? Time and again the good doctor was met with “probably going” and “I have the feeling you’re way off on this,” but Loomis persisted because sometimes being a leader means having the strength to stand alone.

Sheriff Brackett (Charles Cyphers) referred to Loomis’ words of foreboding as “fancy talk,” but when you appear paranoid and desperate due to a lack of diagnostic evidence, describing the things you’ve seen over the course of a decade-and-a-half is the only weapon at your disposal. Call it fancy talk, but there was nothing fancy about the knot in Loomis’ stomach telling him that he was right.

In vain, Loomis shared those experiences–his fancy talk–desperate for someone, anyone to listen, much less believe him. Despite his efforts, Loomis was met with rejection. Tales of silent alarms and a blank, pale, emotionless face were met with “if you are right, damn you for letting him go” when Loomis was the only one trying to keep Michael Myers locked up, and certainly the only one exerting energy to stop the impending massacre.

But Loomis didn’t let the opinions of others hinder him. The determined doctor traveled the 150 miles to Haddonfield because 9-to-5 didn’t apply to The Shape. Loomis gave nary a thought to his career or reputation, and certainly didn’t allow the notion that “I tried, but no one believes me” slow him down because Loomis understood with perfect clarity the only way to safeguard the people of Haddonfield was to take matters into his own hands.

By refusing to relent, Loomis told every authoritative detractor from Dr. Wynn (Robert Phelan) to Sheriff Brackett to go fuck themselves. That Loomis’ actions proved unsuccessful is irrelevant because stopping evil incarnate in itself is an exercise in futility. What matters is that Loomis refused to quit without so much as an ounce of assistance from those equipped–and charged–with helping him.

In the end, that’s what has endeared us to Loomis for 45 years: his unyielding resolve to protect. Whether it’s a significant other, our children, siblings or friends — when the chips are down, we are all Dr. Loomis — stopping at nothing to protect those we love.

Was it Dr. Loomis fearlessly storming up the Wallace’s stairs to confront Michael Myers alone?

As a matter of fact, it was.