All Halloween Sequels Ranked - Worst to Best

 

Okay, so… it’s no secret whatsoever that John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) is my absolute favorite film of all time. I watch it several times a year, it never gets old, you know the drill. Everybody has their number one pick for best movie ever, and this one is mine. And truth be told, I don’t think it’s hard to see why.

 

There’s a reason Halloween is still considered by many to be the scariest film ever made. It’s still effective after forty years, and each new generation that discovers it jumps when Michael Myers bursts out of the pantry to skewer PJ Soles’ boyfriend Bob! It also is simply damned good. All of the performances are far above and beyond what any production costing $300,000 should be. The camera work is arresting and ahead of its time, paving the way for other fright flicks such as The Evil Dead (1981). And of course, everyone and their mother knows that the picture ignited both the career of one Jamie Lee Curtis and the slasher phenomenon of the 1980s.

 

            So, there isn’t much new to say here about the original film. Halloween is the absolute best at what it does, and would no doubt top any list I were to create, except…

 

            What about the sequels? I think we can all agree that the Halloween franchise is pound-for-pound better, more often than not, when stacked up against its competitor series’ such as Friday the 13^th and A Nightmare on Elm Street. Granted, Michael has found himself in his fair share of duds, but nothing here quite reaches the murky, barrel-bottom depths of the likes of Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991). And with Halloween Kills, David Gordon Green’s follow-up to his 2018 smash reboot, now pushed out to 2021, it feels like a good time to revisit all the Haddonfield we can get as the spookiest time of the year approaches!

 

So how do all the Halloween sequels/reboots/remakes stand up? Let’s find out! Oh, and one more thing: I LOVE all these movies, even the bad ones (well, maybe except the bottom three…) so this is all in good fun!

 UPDATE 10/28/2021: Halloween Kills (2021) added to this glorious list

 UPDATE 9/4/2023: Halloween Ends (2022) unceremoniously added to this list

 

 

13) Halloween: Resurrection (2002) directed by Rick Rosenthal

 

            Hey, it’s Halloween, I guess everyone’s entitled to… well, no scares at all, really. What’s worse than killing off Jamie Lee Curtis? Casting Busta Rhymes, of course! Rick Rosenthal returned to the franchise for the first time since he directed Halloween II (1981) just to helm this steaming turd. Not only does the script completely retcon the ending of 1998’s Halloween H20, it also writes out Laurie Strode and promptly gives Michael Myers absolutely nothing to do. Well, almost nothing. A group of internet reality tv show people are doing a special sleep over at the Myers house, so Michael gets to go kill them I guess. But one of the partiers is Katee Sackhoff! So if you like Battlestar Galactica then that’s something. She’s probably the only real good part of this movie.

 

12) Halloween II (2009) directed by Rob Zombie

 

            When I saw this film in the theater, I had a better opinion of it than I do now. There are quite a few good ideas here, but they aren’t well-executed. Rob Zombie had a pretty hit with his first… uh… stab at remaking Carpenter’s classic, even if that film is maligned in hindsight. Here, he doesn’t even manage to create any unease at all. Instead what we get is a parade of gruesome deaths that aren’t so much shocking as they are rote. And the trailer trash aesthetic that Zombie is known for doesn’t land either. Throw those elements together with some arthouse-style surreal imagery that could have been interesting but just comes off as tonally weird, and you get a misfire that is a veritable cornucopia of  “missed it by that much”. Still, in spite of being mostly boring, it can hold a sort of morbid fascination for viewers who enjoy pondering how things went so wrong.

 

11) Halloween (2007) directed by Rob Zombie

 

            Here we have what I like to call Rob Zombie’s John Carpenter’s Halloween. Zombie is well-known for his scuzzy horror hits House of 1000 Corpses (2003) and The Devil’s Rejects (2005) and the accolades are deserved. Yours Truly even admits to liking The Lords of Salem (2012). Unfortunately, this first attempt at completely rebooting the franchise – while initially successful at the box office – ultimately fails at… well, pretty much everything. The trailer trash look, the incessant swearing that feels almost impossibly forced… Most fans will agree that what made Michael Myers so frightening in the first place was the apparent lack of discernible motivation to his actions. In the original film (more on that in a minute) he seems to stalk Laurie Strode because she just so happened to deliver the key to his house while he was there. The fallacy of later sequels was in leaning into the mythology a bit too hard, thus stripping Michael of his fear-factor while also making everything way too convoluted. Rob Zombie must have liked that though, because with this movie he gives us the killer’s entire backstory. The entire first half of the film could be called Netflix’ Making a Murderer Redux. After that, we get a second half that is essentially a sped-up scene-for-scene remake of the original film. This holds true right down to the girls walking home from school and even Michael nailing poor Bob to the cupboards of the Wallace residence. Performances are decent, but Scout Taylor-Compton and Malcolm McDowell mostly make us wish for Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Pleasence again.

 

10) Halloween Ends (2022) directed by David Gordon Green

        David Gordon Green could have followed up his one-two punch of Halloween (2018) and Halloween Kills (2021) with a technical knockout. Instead, what we get is Michael Myers hiding in a storm drain like Pennywise and some college kid trying to take up the mantle because he's being bullied by... *checks notes*... band geeks? Cory Cunningham (gotta have the name alliteration) is an outcast in Haddonfield because a kid he was babysitting fell off the banister and died while trying to pull a stupid prank. Imagine killing yourself on accident while trying to punk your babysitter... what a loser. Anyway, Laurie Strode first feels sorry for the guy and tries to set him up with her granddaughter, but then tries to break them up because she sees the "same evil" or something in Cory's eyes. In the end, we do finally get the showdown with Michael that the entire trilogy was teasing us with, but it kind of comes out of nowhere. Ultimately, just like Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982), this third installment would probably be better appreciated if it wasn't a Halloween movie.

9) Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers – Theatrical Cut (1995) directed by Joe Chappelle

 

            Finally, we have the first good (?) installment on this list. The Curse of Michael Myers has quite a bit stacked against it – primarily some impressive nonsense regarding Celtic runes and necromancy, as well as a 90s look that holds up just about as well as a termite-infested treehouse in a windstorm. Nevertheless, it manages to hold audience interest if only because of how weird it is. This cut that was released into theaters had its fair share of production woes as well. The entire ending was reshot, new gore scenes were done (why not?) and Daniel Farrands’ original script was effectively butchered at the behest of studio bigwigs. The Producer’s Cut (included later on this list) works a bit better, but until its resurrection in 2014, was almost an internet rumor and only viewable as a terrible bootleg culled from a VHS master. In any case, let’s round this up. The Good? Paul Rudd and Donald Pleasence. Their presence saves this one. The Bad? The ending has a lot of green liquid in syringes. What is this, Reanimator? The Ugly? That kid has some massive ears…

 

8) Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers (1989) directed by Dominique Othenin-Girard

 

            The fourth installment of the series brought it back from the dead just a year earlier, so naturally Moustapha Akkad wanted to jump on the renewed success. More than any other sequel, however, The Revenge of Michael Myers dates itself. The costumes, the music, the cheese… all of it is squarely late-80s in the extreme. That and the meandering script do tend to cripple the picture somewhat, but Donald Pleasence is as good as ever, and Danielle Harris reprises her role as Jamie Lloyd to great effect. It also has a bit more gore included than most previous iterations, but that’s not hard to do. Mostly, the film gets by less on what does right than what it doesn’t do wrong (a laughably bad Myers mask notwithstanding). The Mark of Thorn and the Man in Black – both explained away to a ridiculous degree in Curse – here provide a sense of mystery that at least keeps viewers interested. And, though its architecture is inexplicably and wildly different for some reason, the Myers house is a fun and suitably creepy location for the film’s climax. If viewed on the heels of part four, Revenge might seem disappointing, but on its own it works rather better than its reputation might suggest.

 

7) Halloween H20: 20 Years Later (1998) directed by Steve Miner

 

            The worst is behind us! From here on out, everything has more good than bad. H20 is the first soft reboot of the series. It was intended to completely ignore everything that had happened since Halloween II (1981), but good ol’ Daniel Farrands of Curse fame found a way to bridge the continuity of his script with this one via the time-honored horror medium of comic books. So, I guess it fits? Jamie Lee Curtis returns to the role that launched her career, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt gets killed with an ice skate, so there’s something for everyone! Though the flick is definitely riding the coattails of Scream (1996), it manages to deliver on the gore and character fronts, giving it a definite step up from previous entries on this list. The setting is moved from Haddonfield to California, and that doesn’t work terribly well, but it remains visually grabbing, and the ending is one of the best in franchise history. Also of note: Steve Miner steps into the directors chair here, giving him the distinction of being the only person to direct installments of both Halloween and Friday the 13^th.

 

6) Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers – Producer’s Cut (1995) directed by Joe Chappelle

 

            Is this cheating? Well, it’s my list, so I make the rules. The Curse of Michael Myers: The Producer’s Cut was the stuff of horror film legend for nearly twenty years. Watching it now, it’s downright baffling that anything was changed. Sure, it’s not the best installment ever, and it still has its share of problems, but the fact remains that this cut of the film is far, far better than what fans got in theaters back in 1995. For one thing, Paul Rudd’s portrayal as the grown-up Tommy Doyle – struggling with PTSD and perhaps a bit on the autism spectrum – gets full justice here. His obsession with Michael in the theatrical version didn’t make much sense and was never truly resolved. In this cut, his expertise on the black magic that makes the Shape tick actually comes to fruition. Doctor Loomis’ screams at the end of the previous incarnation also have a reason now. It goes to show how much a little bit of continuity really does go a long way. The biggest downside to this episode of the franchise is that both cuts do away with Jamie Lloyd with little consideration for her character arc. Add to that the fact that Danielle Harris was snubbed for the role, despite going through a painful and expensive legal process to get emancipated so that she could play the part, and you still a number of missteps here. Still, it is fun, only boring sometimes, and at least it finally gets the mask right for the first time since Carpenter’s original.

 

5) Halloween II (1981) directed by Rick Rosenthal

 

            By the time producers got around to making a sequel to Halloween, the slasher boom was well underway. John Carpenter may have laid the blueprint for the genre, but Friday the 13^th cemented the tropes of more gore and higher body counts. This film does quite well, picking up at the exact moment the first film left off, and following Laurie Strode as Michael continues to stalk her at the hospital. Narrative tension is somewhat lacking, but the kills are creative and Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Pleasence both manage to do quite a bit with their comparative lack of screen time. The camera work is also very accomplished, aiming to keep to the feel of its predecessor with long takes in and out of homes as Myers stalks through suburban neighborhoods. Of course, the 80s cheese rears its head with some truly head-scratching effects, specifically that chuckle-inducing outline in the grass where Michael supposedly landed at the end of part one. The score is also synthed-up a bit, which does nothing for the timelessness of the picture. And no critique of this movie would be complete without a mention of how unnecessary it was to make Laurie Strode and Michael Myers siblings. And that “how” is very. Very unnecessary. Nevertheless, Halloween II has its share of iconic moments and is a worthy sequel, probably the first great film on this list.

 

4) Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) directed by Tommy Lee Wallace

 

            Hey, what’s this doing here? Is it even actually a Halloween movie? Many fans roll their eyes at Season of the Witch but divorced from the narrative of Michael Myers versus The Strodes, it proves to be a fun and engaging little fright flick. John Carpenter wanted originally to anthologize the Halloween series, telling a new tale of terror every year. Those dreams were dashed when audiences raised hell about not having their favorite villain on the screen. In spite of nearly killing any hope for future installments, this picture does indeed deliver on tension, scares, and even a little bit of the gruesome bloodletting. It also features one of my favorite horror actors in Tom Atkins. He elevates everything he is in, almost like a working mans Vincent Price. It may be an outlier in the pantheon of the franchise, but it delivers on the horror, the suspense, and the thrills. It also has a jingle that’s too damn catchy for its own good. Hate me if you want, but Season of the Witch cracks the first spot in the top three - at least, before Halloween Kills...

 

3) Halloween Kills (2021) directed by David Gordon Green

            The newest installment as of 2021 is bloody brilliant, despite critical reactions being lukewarm. It picks up right where Halloween (2018) leaves off and never lets up for a second. While the direction isn't necessarily as inspired at it's predecessor, the film makes up for it in both body count and boldness of vision. The violence is positively wince-inducing, but purposefully aimed at highlighting the senselessness of trying to understand evil. While the previous film tackled personal trauma, this time out the focus is the effect of tragedy on the community. We see the terrible outcome of mob mentality, while Michael Myers continues his rampage largely unimpeded. John Carpenter returns to score the picture, Jamie Lee Curtis gets a reprisal of her hospitalization in Halloween II, and we get the returns of many familiar faces from the original film. Add to that a truly unique format for a slasher film, and Halloween Kills earns a spot in the top 5!

2) Halloween (2018) directed by David Gordon Green

 

            I don’t know a single person I’ve talked to that doesn’t love this movie. It marks the third time that the franchise has been rebooted (counting H20) and the first time such a reboot has been a true success. David Gordon Green’s approach ignores all previous sequels and opts to be a direct follow-up to Carpenter’s original, doing away with the silliness of Celtic cults and eye-rolling family ties. It may be a bit ambitious, but that’s all the criticism I really have for it. The gore is wince-inducing, the scares are actually scary for the first time in decades, and Jamie Lee Curtis in top form reprising a PTSD-afflicted Laurie who has waited forty years for her chance to get revenge. Everything here works, even the weird European psychologist who wants to study Michael “in the wild”. I truly cannot wait for Halloween Kills (2021).

 

1) Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers (1988) directed by Dwight H. Little

 

            Here we have it: the best Halloween sequel. The Return of Michael Myers isn’t perfect. In fact, the most recent Halloween (2018) just covered might be a better film. But the truth is this movie does everything fans of the franchise want and more. Donald Pleasence is back. Haddonfield feels familiar. The score pounds away. And most importantly: Danielle Harris. I will say here and now that she might be one of the best child actors of all time, and far, far underappreciated for her work as Laurie Strode’s orphaned daughter, Jamie. Many child characters in horror range from bad, just god-awfully annoying – I’m looking you Bob in House by the Cemetery (1981). We get some fantastic kills with great effects by KNB FX Group (that throat-ripping!), and most of all some of the most impressive set-pieces in the franchise. I enjoy this film so much, it is often the one I pick to double-feature with the first.

 

 

            So, there you have it folks! Your complete ranking of the Night HE Came Home! Get yourself set for a marathon, and… I’m gonna say it, I can’t help myself…

 

            You know, it’s Halloween, I guess everyone’s entitled to one good scare!

Psycho Killer: Mario Bava's Hatchet for the Honeymoon

            “A woman should live only until her wedding night. Love once, and then die!”

            These are the unhinged narrations of our killer as he carries the body of his latest victim to the incinerator. John Harrington is a handsome, charming young man, owner of a bridal parlor and fashion house, married to a wealthy (if shrewish) heiress, and just so happens to be completely out of his gourd. He has a repressed memory about the death of his mother that he desperately wants to unlock. Each time he kills, he remembers a little bit more…

            When Mario Bava made Hatchet for the Honeymoon (1970), he was in a sort of creative purgatory between two iconic phases in his career. From 1960 until about 1966, he had made for himself a reputation as Italy’s premier horror filmmaker, with a slew of hits that began with Black Sunday (1960), and ended with Kill, Baby… Kill! (1966). During that period, he also managed to single-handedly invent one of the most popular subgenres of Italian cinema, the giallo, with a cycle of three iconic works: The Girl Who Knew Too Much (1963), The Whip and the Body (1963), and Blood and Black Lace (1964). It should also be noted that the first tale in Bava’s famous portmanteau Black Sabbath (1963) – titled “The Telephone” – can be considered a giallo blueprint, and may actually be the earliest example of the director playing with these themes.

            After Kill, Baby… Kill!, Bava didn’t touch horror for at least three years, and his star seemed to have ceased it’s rise in that regard. The popularity of the swingin’ 60’s fashion and James Bond capers forced him to hop on that quintessential Italian cash-in train, and he turned out two different secret agent romps – one fairly good, the other not so much. The not-so-much arrived first, in the form of Dr. Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs (1966). Obvious connections to Guy Hamilton’s Goldfinger (1964) notwithstanding, it’s just a bit too clear that Bava wasn’t exactly at home in the world of slapstick sendups. This isn’t to say that he wasn’t adept with humor, as Hatchet for the Honeymoon in particular features some very witty cutaways and wink-wink references. But the bluntness of Dr. Goldfoot strikes an odd chord when compared with the subtlety of the director’s superior works. The better of the two spy flicks was Danger: Diabolik (1968), regarding a master thief and his sensual sidekick pulling off daring heists! Ultimately, while both of these films are serviceable, neither quite rose to the heights of Bava’s previous films, and his next (the western spoof Roy Colt & Winchester Jack [1970]) is also often considered a low point.

            The next phase in Bava’s career would ultimately serve to enshrine his legacy as a visionary horror filmmaker and cement his influence on the future of the genre with films such as Baron Blood (1972), Lisa & the Devil (1973), and the infamous A Bay of Blood (1971). That second phase began upon his return to the giallo film with this unique twist on the genre he himself helped to create.

            Hatchet for the Honeymoon is admittedly a bit of an odd duck. It’s a giallo for certain, but it features a few elements that are decidedly at odds with the well-established format of what giallos should be. First and foremost, the audience is made aware of the killer’s identity right from the start. Not only that, but said killer is, in fact, our main protagonist, and we are treated to every thought in his head. Moreover, his motivations are suddenly and clearly laid out; leaving no room whatsoever for the classic “whodunit” aspect so integral to this genre.

            The very first scene shows John creeping down the corridors of a moving train, until he bursts in on a newlywed couple mid-coitus, and uses a cleaver to very quickly bring about the “til death do us part” section of their vows. In the very next scene, John (played by Stephen Forsyth) introduces himself, “My name is John Harrington, and I am a paranoiac.” From there, we follow him as he describes his need to uncover his memories, how he has murdered five women and buried three of them in his hothouse, and muses over the sentience of a housefly (or lack thereof).

            Film historian Tim Lucas (author of Mario Bava: All the Colours of the Dark) remarks in his commentary for the film that John Harrington’s character bears a striking resemblance to Christian Bale’s sociopath in American Psycho (2000). It’s an interesting observation, but there is one significant difference: Harrington is a bit more self-aware than Bale’s Patrick Bateman, going so far as to plainly state that he is, in fact, “quite mad”. Said self-awareness bleeds from the character into the rest of the film, as evidenced by several sight gags and editing jokes that pop up around every murder.

            After the killings on the train, John cleans the blood from his cleaver using the dearly departed bride’s wedding dress – a not-so-subtle jab at the loss of virginity – and then proceeds to leave a “do not disturb” sign hanging on the cabin door as he leaves. Elsewhere, after he cremates another victim in the hothouse furnace, the film cuts to John’s wife Mildred exclaiming, “Do you smell something burning?” before popping the lever on their toaster to reveal two blacked slices of what was once bread…

            That Hatchet for the Honeymoon is structured so differently from other contemporary giallos is perhaps it’s greatest strength. The same year as its release, another film came out that unleashed a wave of ‘yellow fever’ in the Italian film industry. The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1970), directed by Dario Argento, set the standard for the next several years regarding how giallos were to be approached. The films hit cinemas within a few months of each other. Argento’s first screened in Milan at the end of February, while Hatchet gained wide Italian release on the 2^nd of June. It’s hard to say which of these pictures went into production before the other, but considering that Bava was a quick worker, comfortable with low budgets, and had already released one film earlier that year, it’s quite possible that Bird was completed first. Nevertheless, it’s difficult not to view Bava’s picture as thinking ahead of Argento’s debut masterpiece. While the rest of Italian thrillers were still obsessed with trench-coated killers in black gloves and whispered voices, Hatchet for the Honeymoon wanted to attack something deeper. After all, Mario Bava had already done that with Blood and Black Lace, and as his filmography bears out, he never really liked to make the same movie twice. Even when he adapted Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians into two different productions, the results were remarkably dissimilar. Five Dolls for an August Moon (1970) is a largely bloodless affair, concerned more with atmosphere and psychological unease; while A Bay of Blood (1971) is so gory that it is often cited as the real granddaddy of slasher films, with at least one scene being directly lifted by Friday the 13^th part II (1981).

            As for Hatchet, while certainly not without the red stuff, it is comparatively tame. During the majority of the murders depicted, we don’t see every strike of the cleaver, but rather a little bit more of John’s suppressed memory. It’s a uniquely unsettling choice on Bava’s part. He forces us to be as interested in the new tidbits as our killer is, and thus we become at least somewhat complicit in his drive to hack virginal brides to pieces. That uneasy atmosphere is definitely at odds with the typical giallo picture, especially in the vein of The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, where the audience is invited to help the hero solve the mystery, instead of helping the murderer understand his psychosis.

The very nature of this approach leads Bava to employ a style that is decidedly less “slick” than Argento’s film (and by extension, all the other famous imitators that came after). The gliding, uninterrupted, wide-angle tracking shots that define Bird, Deep Red (1975), The Strange Vice of Mrs. Wardh (1971), and even Bava’s own Blood and Black Lace, are virtually ignored here, in favor tighter, more claustrophobic close-ups. And when the camera does pull back, rarely is there a shot that doesn’t have some sort of object in the immediate foreground. A quintessential example happens in the first half of the film, where we follow John into the attic of his mansion and are greeted by his own personal display of mannequins in wedding dresses. As the camera pulls away, we see him at the far end of the room, but our view is obstructed by a forest of lifeless figures, closing in like a mob of the living dead. As he staggers through the crowd, he arrives at the chest of drawers where he keeps his cleaver, and we see him at a cockeyed overhead angle, as though we were peering in through a crack in the low ceiling. The insistence at keeping us at such a closed-in vantage point mirrors the narrative perspective: we are stuck in our killer’s head both narratively and visually.

I have often cited Hatchet for the Honeymoon as being one of the few films I deem to be legitimately frightening. Others may no doubt disagree, as the metric of what one considers scary is just as subjective as what one finds funny. Still, in an age where fright flicks by and large try to generate their scares through loud noises and sudden jump cuts, Hatchet puts in the time and effort to get under the skin of its audience. The aspect of this film that gives me the chills is also perhaps the quintessential component that differentiates it the most from other standard giallos: it has a ghost.

In particular, it is the ghost of John’s wife, Mildred; played with scenery-chewing glee by the great Laura Betti. Betti had just won the Volpi Cup for Best Actress for her role in Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Teorema (1968). Legend has it that, after her win, she immediately called Mario Bava, joking, “Maestro, now that I’m famous, when will we be working together?” Responding in kind, Bava supposedly rewrote the script for Hatchet specifically to give her a prominent part. It’s no surprise that she hand-and-foot steals every scene that she’s in, to the point that even a sideways glance can pull our attention away from the killer we’re supposed to be following.

Perhaps one of the very few predictable turns in the film is when John flips out and kills her. After all of her shrewish behavior – from making fun of his impotence to denying him even one night without her presence – we had to expect that was where things would lead. It’s certainly the most gruesome murder of the entire picture, with John chasing her down the hallway in a bridal veil and a deranged misapplication of lipstick. The unexpected comes after, when she starts appearing to others at random, and throwing John into a panic as he knows that he just buried her under the flowerbeds in his hothouse.

When she finally appears to him, simply to let him know that everyone will see her except him, it is by slowly walking up the stairs that she was murdered on as we watch through the frame of the bedroom doorway. It’s a supremely chilling image, and one that Guillermo del Toro almost certainly had in mind when we first see the ghost of Edith’s mother at the beginning of Crimson Peak (2015), standing at the end of the hall from her bedroom. When he’s finally caught at the end (not really a spoiler, all giallo killers are eventually nabbed), she returns to him in the opposite manner: only he will see her, for the rest of eternity.

No analysis of Hatchet for the Honeymoon would be complete without at least a passing mention of Dagmar Lassander. Lassander is possibly the only really normal part of this giallo, having been a staple in several others up to this point, most recognizably as the heroine in Luciano Ercoli’s freshman effort The Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion (1969). She turns in an excellent, if rather usual, performance here as a potential love interest for John with some motivations of her own. She would also play a number of roles for Lucio Fulci, most notably in House by the Cemetery (1981), which places Hatchet for the Honeymoon as a curious point of intersection between these three greatest of Italian genre directors – Bava, Argento, and Fulci. Lassander worked for two of them, and Bava would end up contributing his special effects prowess to Argento’s Inferno (1980), on which his son, Lamberto Bava, also worked as a producer.

Hatchet for the Honeymoon is often cited as one of Mario Bava’s more middle-of-the-road works. Not as lauded as Black Sunday or Blood and Black Lace, but certainly better regarded than headscratchers like Four Times That Night (1971). I, for one, think it deserves a bit better. It’s a tightly directed thriller with no shortage of chills, and winking sense of humor that should appeal to those whose wit leans on the darker side. Highly recommended.