hadenblackman.com

Crossing the Dark Divide

» Font Size «
Jun
29

Halloween’s Twisted Love Story

(Originally posted September 30, 2008)

I’ve spent the last few days reviewing some of my old essays from college with the hopes of re-purposing some of them for this site. With October almost upon us, I thought it fitting to start with one on the original Halloween…

My central thesis here is that John Carpenter’s 1978 film Halloween uses cinematic techniques to portray the interaction between the repressed Laurie Strode and the psychotic Michael Myers as both a murderous stalking and an archetypal “bad boy / good girl” romance. Through use of point of view, choice dialogue, the primary concerns of the characters, and careful framing, the relationship between these two often takes on bizarre romantic overtones, while still maintaining a high level of physical threat and violence.

Let’s start with the clearly-disturbed Michael. The most common reading of Halloween argues that Michael is compelled to recreate the murder of his sister (Judith), which is carried out in the first scene of the film:

Michael kills his sister when she is half-naked, creating the sense that he is “punishing” her for her sexual activity (a theme that recurs in pretty much every other slasher movie to follows). Why he murders his sister is not entirely clear, but stabbing murders are often considered (by FBI profilers at least…) to be intimate and personal, and often crimes of passion. Perhaps the already-unstable Michael harbors incestuous (or, at least confusing) feelings towards his sister, and he is driven to kill out of jealousy or frustration. Later, Michael carves the word “sister” on his door, suggesting that his feelings towards Judith are still unresolved and he is intent on reenacting his previous crime by seeking out a surrogate victim – a new “sister” to covet and kill.

Early in the film, it seems that Michael targets Laurie as this next “sister”: he spies on her through windows while wearing a mask, as he did his real sister years before; and he first encounters her at his own house, the most logical place for any “sister” to be found. But this is where the standard reading of Halloween begins to falter. Michael has the opportunity to kill Laurie early on, but he doesn’t. Why? Perhaps because Laurie remains virginal and fully clothed throughout the film; she even wears a full length, pointedly unrevealing bathrobe after her off-screen shower. Because Laurie does not present any sexual overtones that remind him of his sister, he’s fascinated with her, but is still compelled to seek out another”sister” to kill. In this case, he chooses the more promiscuous Annie as his new “sister;” he watches her undress, and murders her before she can have sex. Later, Annie “becomes” Judith Myers when Annie’s body and Judith’s headstone are shown together.

Although Michael has seemingly murdered his “sister” again, he continues to kill. The murders of Linda and Bob can be read as: (most commonly) a continuation of the “punishment for sexual activity” theme; proof that Michael sees all half-naked women as his sister; or (perhaps most interestingly) as Michael’s first attempts at a relationship other than the warped sister-brother interaction he had with Judith, perhaps even as awkward “practice” for his eventual relationship with Laurie. In this last reading, Michael actually kills Bob in order to supplant him. Michael disguises himself as Bob, but is spurned when she turns her back on him and focuses on her phone conversation. Frustrated, Michael kills Linda, again in a very intimate fashion (this time by strangling his victim).

Immediately after strangling Linda, an emboldened Michael finally sets out after Laurie. From the outset of the film, Laurie is portrayed as lonely. In all of her relationships, Laurie is the “third wheel,” or the facilitator who enables the other characters to fulfill their desires: within the trio of friends, she is the only one without a boyfriend; and she takes on the care of the children to enable the other couples privacy for sex. References to the homecoming dance, the shame she expresses at being a virgin, and her self-deprecating humor all reinforce her loneliness.

And then, Laurie’s life is forever changed by the arrival of a mysterious stranger. Michael spies Laurie early in the film, and his fascination begins then; but the feelings become mutual the moment Laurie, the “good” school girl in class, sees Michael framed through a window, standing by his car. Although we know Michael’s past, Laurie has no idea that he is really a psychotic killer. This scene therefore becomes an ironic but powerful allusion to countless romance films (especially those of the 1950s), in which the “good girl” is drawn towards the “bad boy.” His framing and pose are all designed to suggest the standard high school dropout or rebel archetype:

  • His mechanic’s jumpsuit associates him with the working class and auto shop kids (the “greasers”);
  • He has his own vehicle, and a stolen one at that;
  • He defies social conventions by wearing his Halloween costume during the day;
  • He might be a dropout or a truant, but he’s not afraid to loiter on school grounds during school hours;
  • He is strong, silent, cool, aloof, and mysterious;
  • And he has an air of danger about him thanks to that creepy mask.

The “courtship” continues soon after when Laurie, Annie, and the audience see Michael standing near a large hedge, seemingly following the girls. They assume that he is a local boy trying to scare them, a form of flirting. The bold and experienced Annie playfully runs to confront the “stalker”, and while the audience feels fear and anticipation because we know that Michael is a violent murderer, Laurie only hesitates because interaction with the opposite sex makes her uncomfortable. Annie jokes that the masked man wants to ask Laurie out, and Laurie is compelled to approach the hedge, dragging us with her. When the audience and Laurie discover that no one is lurking behind the hedge, there is a sense of relief for us (because we know that a bloody encounter has been avoided) and Laurie (who believes she’s been spared an awkward social interaction with a member of the opposite sex).I'm just misunderstood...

The relationship intensifies when Michael seeks out Laurie later, at night, while she is baby-sitting. Now Laurie – once the third wheel – is the sole object of affection. Michael pursues her, relentlessly, while all other women are discarded, compartmentalized (as shown in his choice of hiding places for Linda’s body: a cubby-hole in a closet), or redefined (Annie becomes Judith). When he enters Tommy’s house, he completely ignores the children in his single-minded pursuit of Laurie, and he defies death and injury to be united with her.

The romantic relationship between Michael and Laurie is further developed through their cinematic similarities:

  • Both are active voyeurs, paying special attention to the sexual exploits of Annie and Linda. Laurie looks out Tommy’s window repeatedly to “update” herself (and the audience) as to which lights are on, whose car is out front, etc; while Michael’s acts of voyeurism are lead-ins to murder.
  • Both Michael and Laurie are continually framed in, near, and through windows. The windows become a shared forum for these two characters when Laurie sings in her bathrobe: She is positioned directly in front of a long, narrow window, but the camera does not allow the audience to see through this portal. Laurie frequently casts her eyes away from the window, heightening the sense that Michael could come through it at any moment, without warning. She croons “I wish I had you all alone,” lyrics that invite a “Just the two of us” love sentiment (another romantic cliche, in which the good girl yearns to ally with her misunderstood bad boy in order to escape from or fight against an unforgiving society). Michael does not come through at this invitation; but, when he finally does enter Tommy’s house in search of Laurie later, it is through an open window.
  • During the final scene, both are seriously wounded, but neither kills the other. The fact that Laurie repeatedly turns her back on the murderer seems idiotic; but, perhaps it’s simply a reluctance to kill the only suitor she has ever known.
  • One of the most striking sequences during the finale sets Michael and Laurie into mirror motions of one another: After Michael has been wounded with a hanger, Laurie collapses on the floor, emulating his prone position. Immediately after her conversation with the children, the camera frames Laurie leaning against the door frame in a sitting position; and, in the background, an out-of-focus Michael robotically rises to the same position. The mirror imaging is made complete when Laurie stands and begins to walk into the hallway, and Michael becomes her shadow as he stands and follows her. This sequence ties the two inexorably.
  • The film culminates in Michael’s final attack, a weaponless assault that is shot in a tight close-up, framing their faces together. This shot is reminiscent of the standard framing commonly used to portray a passionate kiss, in which the couple is tightly bound by the frame as the man descends upon the woman, his hands usually visible on her shoulders or face. The level of violence between Michael and Laurie emulates the “bad boy/good girl” romance myths perpetuated by films of the 1950s and 60s, in which the bad boy man-handles the woman in order to achieve the kiss that they both (allegedly) desire. Here, Laurie’s reaction is, at first, violent struggle; but, towards the final moments of the shot, she flails for Michael’s mask, revealing him. Both are momentarily stunned by his sudden vulnerability – another moment reminiscent of “bad boy/good girl” romance films. But before Michael can replace his emotionless false face, he is separated from Laurie by Doctor Loomis — a mad father figure.

There is no doubt that Halloween is, first and foremost, the mother of all slasher movies, a cautionary tale about teenage freedom and sexuality. Michael Myers easily becomes an avatar for our “Fear of Divine Retribution” and “Fear of Strangers,” but the romantic undertones in the film also suggest Michael is an embodiment of our Fear of the Opposite Sex, abusive relationships, or even Fear of Being Seduced by that first crush: someone we hardly know, but whose magnetism makes us vulnerable, and who therefore has the potential to do irreparable harm.

(And yes, I know that the later films and the Rob Zombie remake all suggest that Laurie Strode is actually Michael’s sister, but the arguments here only relate to the portrayal of their relationship in the first film, before that bit of the mythology was added.)

Leave a Comment