Main cast: Tom Atkins (Dr Dan Challis), Stacey Nelkin (Ellie Grimbridge), and Dan O’Herlihy (Conal Cochran)
Director: Tommy Lee Wallace

Halloween III: Season of the Witch—now here’s a movie that came into this world like a bat out of the blue, delivering a twist that sent fans of the franchise clutching their pumpkin-spiced beverages in shock.

The story goes that the creators behind the Halloween series had the bold idea to shake things up and transform the franchise into an anthology of horror stories, with each installment telling a different creepy tale centered around the titular holiday. Michael Myers, having done his duty as the knife-wielding maniac in two films (and receiving a rather conclusive ending already), was ready to retire his coveralls.

Unfortunately, no one bothered to clue the audience in on this change. And since this all happened before the days of the Internet, where spoilers ruin your fun a month before release, the unfortunate souls who showed up at theaters expecting more Michael were in for a rather rude awakening. It’s like expecting to see the Rolling Stones and getting a Mick Jagger solo show instead—good in its own right, but not quite what you signed up for. Cue the backlash.

So, what is Halloween III: Season of the Witch all about, if not Michael Myers slashing his way through more hapless babysitters? Well, it’s an odd and rather ingenious little tale involving sinister plots, creepy masks, and yes, the wholesale menace against all things sacred in horror movies—children. The plot follows the cool-as-heck Tom Atkins as Dr Dan Challis, a man who has all the makings of a stereotypical 1980s action protagonist: an unkempt personal life, questionable morals, and an undeniable charm that somehow makes all of that forgivable. You can tell Mr Atkins is having a blast playing this sleazy, not-so-dad-of-the-year material protagonist, and honestly, you might even begrudgingly admit to finding him, uh, hit-worthy. And in case you needed an extra incentive, the movie blesses us with a glimpse of his bare rump. It’s a wild ride, folks.

The story itself revolves around an evil Halloween mask company led by the delightfully devilish Conal Cochran, whose plan involves using his masks to, well, let’s just say, cause a whole lot of head-exploding mischief on Halloween night. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill horror; it’s a darkly clever plot that leaves no stone unturned and certainly doesn’t spare the “untouchables”—one of the most memorably gruesome scenes involves a poor kid having his head turned into a gooey, bug-filled mess, courtesy of one of those sinister masks. There’s a nihilistic streak here that’s hard to ignore, with even kids facing the gruesome wrath of the film’s macabre imagination.

Speaking of Cochran, let’s give Dan O’Herlihy some love. As the film’s villain, he’s not just chewing the scenery; he’s practically sautéing it with a side of evil glee. There’s no need for a literal mustache to twirl—he’s got the twinkle in his eye and a smug grin that tell you he’s doing all of these terrible things purely because he can. It’s downright delightful. Who needs Michael Myers when you have a villain who’s just out here doing wicked deeds for the sheer amusement of it? This guy doesn’t just walk the line between campy and chilling; he tap-dances along it with aplomb.

As for poor Stacey Nelkin, bless her heart. She’s here, she’s competent, and she’s certainly not the movie’s main draw. Her character, Ellie, feels more like a plot device than an actual person—something for Tom Atkins’ character to react to and chase after. Still, Ms Nelkin does the best she can with what little the script gives her. Consider her a serviceable sidekick in this bizarre and dread-filled thrill ride.

But let’s not sell the movie short on its other merits. The pacing keeps you hooked from the start, with each scene plunging further into the unsettling territory. The gore is deliciously over-the-top, the atmosphere is palpable, and there’s a sense of impending doom that lingers like the last breath of summer fading into a chilling autumn night. If this movie didn’t carry the unfortunate baggage of the Halloween III in the title, it might’ve been appreciated as the wicked little gem it is—a visceral, eerie, and at times outright bonkers horror experience that doesn’t pull any punches.

So yes, if you watch it with an open mind, you may just find yourself forgetting about Michael Myers for a minute and genuinely enjoying the sinister machinations of a mask-making madman. Dan O’Herlihy and Tom Atkins do their best to make this a movie to remember—there’s no slashing here, but there’s plenty of smashing, in every sense of the word.

Still, one question nags at me. How did Cochran manage to transport a massive chunk of Stonehenge to his factory without anyone noticing? It’s not like you can just pop that thing into the trunk of a car. Then again, when your evil scheme involves ancient druidic magic and killer Halloween masks, I suppose a little logistical nonsense is just part of the charm.

Ah yes, how could I forget that infernal jingle—the Silver Shamrock song. It plays over and over like it’s on some endless loop straight from the ninth circle of musical hell, drilling into your brain with the persistence of a dentist’s drill and the subtlety of a jackhammer. “Eight more days ‘til Halloween, Halloween, Halloween!” It’s the kind of tune that’ll haunt your dreams long after the movie ends, sticking to your mind like a stubborn wad of gum on the bottom of your shoe. By the time the credits roll, you’ll be humming it against your will and cursing Tom Atkins for not figuring out how to destroy the source of that obnoxiously catchy earworm along with Cochran’s evil plot. Seriously, there’s a reason it’s called Halloween III: Season of the Witch—because this song has cast a spell, and good luck breaking it!