Halloween: Resurrection
 (2002)
review by Head Cheeze

There are things in life that you never expect to change. The sun will be warm, water will be wet, and Halloween 5 will always be the worst in the series (Halloween 3 doesn't count, and it never will because I say so!).

My friends, things just got ugly.

Halloween:Resurrection has surpassed my lowest expectations and has now claimed the lowest rung on the Halloween franchise ladder.

To call this film simply bad would be akin to calling Hitler anti-social. This film is a fetid, worm infested apple in your trick or treat sack, oozing with bilious excretions that slather themselves all over the rest of your candy, causing you to fall to your knees and scream to the heavens.

"GOD!!! WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME!??!!

Michael Myers has returned to Haddonfield after a quick detour to visit his sister in a nuthouse where she has been locked up for killing a man that she thought was her brother three years ago. Jamie Lee Curtis appears in a fright wig and does the whole "Scream Drew Barrymore" thing, apparently sick of the franchise and more than happy to sell phones for the remainder of her lackluster career. Josh Hartnett is there as well, stuck to the wall in a crumpled photo, and apparently smart enough not to reprise his role in this film (although he was in Pearl Harbor, so the kid ain't that smart).

Now that all of the reasons that Myers kills in the first place are out of the way, he returns home to his abandoned house (which, after being vacant for 20 years in any town in America, would have been knocked down and turned into a Subway) only to discover that an internet entertainment company has set up shop inside to broadcast a live "investigation" into the Myers legacy, using college students armed with headsets and video cameras ala' MTV's Fear. We get the usual assortment of stereotypes, including the goth/rock dude, the quasi-slut wanna-be superstar, the nerdy hormonally imbalanced guy, the smart hot chick, and Bianca Kajlich as the girl you know won't die.

Oh, and the "Black Guy" who is as black as my Irish mother.

Busta Rhymes and Tyra Banks are also on hand as the folks behind Dangertainment, the internet company that is putting on the whole big she-bang, which basically involves lots of blurry camera scenes, some fuzzy camera scenes, and several scenes of nothing but static. This is why the internet is dead.

Basically, Myers walks around and kills pretty much everyone in sight with a sort of "greatest hits" version of past kills. A guy gets his head crushed, another is pinned to the wall, while several others get stabbed in the face and poked with things. All of this is done with ZERO suspense or scares, thanks in part to the fact that the film jumps from one camera angle to another so quickly that it's rather like watching someone with acute attention deficit disorder flip through the channels whilst watching television. There is also a dangerously Woo like amount of slow-motion in a weak attempt to add some semblence of impact to the scenes, but said sequences are so jarringly cobbled together you won't know if your looking at a baseball hat or a spleen.

Basically this movie is such an absolute failure on every conceivable level that it astounds. From the funny as testicular cancer "jokes" to the miserabley cliched medley of outdated street jargon and pop-culture rimshots, Resurrection suceeds at NOTHING. It's not funny, it's not scary, and it's not even remotely entertaining as a guilty pleasure or afternoon distraction. Repeatedly riding a tricycle off of a roof would be more cathartic.

Directed by Halloween 2's Rick Rosenthal, Resurrection lacks any of the dread of his previous outing, instead relying on jumpcuts and pedestrian thrills that may frighten ebonics spewing white teenage girls with their hair tied back so tight they see through their mouths, but anyone with a rudimentary knowledge of the genre will be punching themselves in the groin until unconscious after paying to see this.

If the horror genre were a human body, Halloween: Resurrection would be it's superfluous third nipple.

Useless and unsightly.