last updated: Fri, 28 Oct 2016 04:03:47 -0400
Everyone has a bad day at work now and then. But if you have one of these 15 Most Stressful Jobs in the World, even one bad day can get you or someone else killed. From EMT to Coal Miner to Ice Road Trucker, these are the jobs that will keep you up at nights!
last updated: Thu, 27 Oct 2016 22:32:20 -0400
last updated: Thu, 27 Oct 2016 21:36:47 +0000
How Halloween Stores Conquered America
The largest chain of spooky pop-ups was built on a foundation of fart machines and women’s clothing.
Trump attacks Clinton on trade, says he should be handed victory
TOLEDO, Ohio; WINSTON SALEM, N.C. (Reuters) - U.S. Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump criticized Democrat Hillary Clinton on Thursday over her trade policies, saying she would handle trade deals so badly that the country should "just cancel the election" and name him the victor.
last updated: Thu, 27 Oct 2016 21:24:04 -0400
Swiper, no drunk swiping on Tinder!
1. ¡Hola! Do you know why I'm paying tuition to work for free at an internship?
2. Can you help me use the map to find a boyfriend who texts me back? ¡Gracias!
3. Can you tell me how all of my friends are buying houses when I can't even afford a new backpack?
4. Have you seen anyone's HBO Go password?
5. Do you know why I'm single? What? I CAN'T FUCKING HEAR YOU. LOUDER!
6. Can you cook? GREAT! Let's date!
7. Do you know how I can get from crippling debt to financial freedom?
8. Is it unethical to go on dates just to be fed for free?
9. How do I stop my friends from getting married without committing a federal crime?
10. Can you tell my backpack is actually a CamelBak filled with wine?
Pedro Fequiere / BuzzFeed
11. Can you block my ex on all social media platforms for me?
12. How old is too old to be on my parents' phone plan?
13. How do I stop my Forever 21 clothes from disintegrating when I wash them?
14. Do you know why I thought I'd have a house, a Benz, and a happy marriage at 25?
15. Why are my hangovers getting worse?
16. Help me choose a path on the map: further credit card debt or death by starvation?
17. Do you know if my ex saw my subtweet? ¡Fantástico!
18. Can you check if there's any more wine left over in my backpack?
19. Will you yell "no swiping!" when I get on Tinder drunk?
Pedro Fequiere / BuzzFeed
It’s just you and your dollar. Decisions decisions.
Being bad has never looked so good.
Everyone knows the best part of Disney movies are the villains.
From the fabulous Cruella de Vil...
...to the handsome Hans, it's hard NOT to root for these baddies.
Well, luckily for us, artist Jirka Väätäinen has created some breathtaking illustrations that bring your favorite villains to life. In the words of Scar, you better BE PREPARED, because these drawings are both stunning and terrifying!
It’s a difficult decision and we’ve got you covered.
One size pretty much fits no one.
Alice Mongkongllite / BuzzFeed
Halloween — it's that time of year when everyone eats all the candy without feeling the tiniest bit guilty. Of course, it's also the time of year when everyone dresses up in costumes.
Plus-size women often have trouble shopping for cute clothes for days that are not Oct. 31, but it turns out it can suck finding Halloween costumes that fit, too.
Cookie dough > cookies
Taking cookie dough ice cream to the next level.
Get the recipe HERE.
The best way to start your morning.
Get the recipe HERE.
That's right...DEEP FRIED.
Get the recipe HERE.
“When will some brave soul make a movie chronicling a young man’s quest to have sex. Until then we’ll all just have to wonder what that’s like.”
“Of course I had Beyoncé and Jay Z’s approval. They released it on Tidal exclusively for the first 24 hours.”
ICYMI: Earlier this week, there was a bit of backlash on Twitter after Amy Schumer released a short video of her dancing along to Beyoncé's "Formation."
Joining her were her Mother/Daughter costars and crew members, including Goldie Hawn, Wanda Sykes, and Joan Cusack.
People were pretty pissed.
And #AmySchumerGottaGoParty became a thing on Twitter.
Amy starts off by stating, "Saying I love Beyoncé’s album Lemonade is a huge understatement. I believe it is one of the greatest pieces of art of our time."
Amy goes on to say how the cast and crew of Mother/Daughter were "all crazy for the album and also for Hillary Clinton."
Mike Coppola / Getty Images
[sings] The thigh bone’s connected to the… something something.
I changed my will today. That’s something I never thought I’d do. I joined Unit 14+ a day after President Trump's famous "21st century Alamo" speech, but with all due respect to my flag and country I did it for Summer. She was always there for me: friend, big sister, bodyguard, mother. And it was clear to both of us that if something bad happened to me on the front, everything I’d managed to get hold of and save up during my service would be hers. But this morning, on my way back to base from the hospital, I changed my will.
And now if I hit an IED in a Kiev alley tomorrow, or find myself in the crosshairs of a sniper on the outskirts of Minsk, it’ll all go to Sergeant Baker instead. Summer won’t understand, I know that. After all, I enlisted for her, for us. And that Baker, he’s a real schmuck. The guy did things to me in basic training that should get him beat up. Maybe even thrown in prison. But after that night on the raft in the Baltic Sea, I can’t just go on like nothing happened. The new will is the only way I could come up with to let that bastard know how much I appreciate what he did for me. I can picture him sitting in his motorized wheelchair at his parents’ house in Cleveland, watching internet porn, when he gets the email:
“Sergeant Baker, we have good news and we have bad news. To tell you the truth, the bad news isn’t so bad — just that another lance corporal schmo who served under you (remember those days? When you could still use your feet to kick the ass of anyone who got on your nerves?) turned his gear in at the great quartermaster in the sky… But the good news — brace yourself, my friend, because it really is good — is that you were named in his will and are now the proud owner of 29 rare master characters and 48 lucky eggs. Twenty-nine masters! Including an Armored Arctic Lizard from a limited edition Marines series. Only someone who was in Bangkok on the day of the Silent Revolution could capture that one. There are six of them in the whole fucking universe. And now one of those six belongs to you!”
I can see him moonwalking his wheelchair in reverse, yelling like a madman. I know soldiers who gave 10 years in the most dangerous assholes of the world, who would happily trade their phenomenal collections for that goddamn lizard. I’ve used it in 142 head-to-head battles since I earned it, and I won every single one of them. If Baker knew I’d changed my will he’d crawl over to my sleeping bag tonight and slit my throat, I swear he would. I can practically hear that shit’s roars of joy. But he deserves it. The guy shattered his spine for me. He could have hesitated, like any other soldier would have, just pussyfooted for one second and then he’d have been around to fire the salute at my funeral. But he didn’t.
I have nowhere in the world to go home to.
A few minutes after I send the new will in to HQ, my phone lights up with a new message from Summer. My first response is panic: She must have found out. Someone from JAG informed her. I mean, her details are on the will too. All the money and the benefits are still going to her. Maybe when a soldier changes his will the beneficiaries are automatically notified? I stare at the screen, petrified. I’ve been through some scary shit this past year: when our jeep lit up like a shooting star in Lima, or on the snipers’ beach in Phuket when Timmy Tight-Ass spurted his brains all over my flak jacket, and in that village near Ankara when the rebels booby-trapped the candy and Jemma and Damian blew up like a bonfire. But all that is nothing compared to how scared I am to open Summer’s email. Because if she’s found out about the will, then I have no reason to go back to San Diego. I have nowhere in the world to go home to. It was a mistake to send that new will in. I could have changed it by hand, given it to a guy in the unit and asked him to deliver it to HQ only if something happened to me, instead of uploading it to their server and risking it being sent all over the world.
I open the email the way you turn over the body of a terrorist who might be strapped with explosives: slowly and carefully. My hands are so sweaty that the touch screen doesn’t respond, but after I wipe them off on my pants I finally manage to open the message. Summer says she hasn’t heard from me in a few days and she’s worried. So I start writing back about the injury, about how my sergeant saved my life, how I feel I owe him, I have to pay him back. And about how even though he’s old, almost 20, he’s probably more obsessed with Destromon Go than we are. But in the middle of writing I stop, delete everything, and send a different message instead, a shorter one: “Everything’s fine. I was a little busy.” I sign off with three emojis of beating red hearts and one with a finger held up to a pair of lips, like it’s a big secret. Then I add, “I’ll tell you when I get back.” But she’ll never understand. She wasn’t there.
They set up the 14+ exactly one year after Trump was elected to his third term. America was still licking its wounds from the war in Mexico. Honestly? No one thought it would be that rough. Our drones pummeled them from the air on the frontlines, but there was much less we could do about the terrorist attacks in the malls. The whole country turned into a battlefield. The Jihadis and those stinking Russians hooked up against us and started channeling weapons to the Mexicans like there was no tomorrow. The Federal government declared martial law. At first there was a draft, and then, when things got really hairy, they announced a new unit and named it 14+. In theory you had to have parental permission to volunteer for it, but after the big Christmas attack on San Diego, Summer and I were left on our own. I mean, we had a state-appointed guardian and all, but the decision was totally up to us. At first Summer wouldn’t hear of it, but there were online ads running constantly. Unit 14+ soldiers were paid real salaries, five times what Summer made at McDonald’s, but that’s not what tipped the scales. No, what drove me to the induction center was the special collectors’ series they showed in the ads. Limited edition Destromon Go’s, master characters with mega CP’s that only appeared in war zones. The US military put them up for 48 hours, and the only way to get one was to be someone out in the field, which meant either a Marine or a Russian commando or whoever the fuck else was fighting us over there. I told Summer: I’ll sign up for one year, I’ll send money home every month, and when I get back we’ll have the best collection in town, maybe even in the whole fucking state. And I was right — I was so right. Six rare masters from three continents. Six! Before I enlisted, the only place I saw mega-CP masters was on YouTube. And now, if I can get through another 10 weeks alive, I’ll take them back to Summer and I’m king. But if I die, it’s all Baker’s. Son of a bitch deserves it, though.
We have so many enemies in this fucking world that it could be anywhere.
Back on base, the guys in the unit seem happy to see me. Marine Cub hugs me and sobs. His ID says “Robby Ramirez” but everyone calls him Marine Cub. His ID also says he’s 14 and a half, but I’ll be damned if he isn’t 12 and a bit. That little squirt barely reaches my chest, and when we shower you can tell he doesn’t have a hair on his body, not even on his armpits or balls. Smooth as a baby’s butt. The Cub was there the night Baker jumped between me and the Chechnyans, and he helped me carry what was left of the Sarge back to the ship afterward. The doctors evacuated me, too, but in the field hospital they realized it wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked. Just some shrapnel in my gut. “Happy to see you on your feet, dawg!” the Cub says, trying to hide his tears.
After dinner he and I have a little Destromon Go battle, and that’s victory number 143 for my Arctic Lizard. “Have you heard anything from the Sarge?” he asks later, while we freeze our brains up with red slushies from the commissary. “HQ updated us about your condition, but we haven’t heard a word about Baker.” I tell him everything that happened in the hospital. About how the doctors almost couldn’t save him, how he’ll never be able to walk again. This is all too much for Cub, and he pulls out his cell and starts showing me his collection. “See that one?” he points to a Destromon Go that looks like a giant mallet: “I found it on the raft the night you and Baker got hit. It may not be a master but it has a special whack-attack mode. Next time we fight I’m sending him in and he’ll pound your fucking lizard into a chicken-fried steak.” An announcement over the loudspeakers orders us to gear up and report for roll-call with our weapons. On the way, I try to find out from the new Platoon Sergeant where they’re taking us this time, but he’s as mute as a corpse. We have so many enemies in this fucking world that it could be anywhere.
Six months ago he was writing book reports on Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn in some crappy high school in Tuscaloosa.
Fourteen hours later we’re flattening an al-Qaeda base in Sinai. We wipe out Jamil “Nine Lives” al-Mabhouh, al-Qaeda’s legendary second-in-command, and his elimination is chalked up to me. At debriefing afterward, the Company Commander falls all over me like some girl, telling everyone how I came back from an injury straight into the inferno, and how when I found myself inches away from Nine Lives with a weapon-jam, I didn’t lose my cool and smashed his skull in with my rifle butt. He salutes me in front of the whole platoon and says he’ll make sure I get a Congressional medal. They all stand tensely at attention, the commander tells everyone to cheer for me, and they scream like a gang of lunatics.
But the minute he leaves, everyone rushes at Snotty Sammy. Of all the fighters in the unit, he was the one who found a fire camel in Sinai yesterday. Which is an epic character — maybe the strongest in the history of the game. With its famous inferno attack and hump-defense, Sammy’s camel could fry my Arctic Lizard in two seconds. We pour buckets of ice-water and sand on Sammy like we always do in the 14+ when a guy racks up a rare character, and Sammy, covered with mud, starts blubbering and thanking us. Six months ago he was writing book reports on Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn in some crappy high school in Tuscaloosa. If someone had told him back then that he’d ever have a fire camel in his collection, he’d have cracked up laughing.
At night in my tent, I get an Instagram from Summer. The picture shows a giant number 10 made out of M&Ms laid out all over her belly. Every Sunday she sends me the number of weeks I have left till discharge, written in something I like: Star Wars figures, gummy bears, those little packets of ketchup. Instead of sleeping, I think about her and about Baker. I try to picture the way each of them would smile if they won, instead of seeing the other one’s face, the one who gets screwed. Ten weeks till I make one person happy. Ten weeks tops, maybe even less.
Translated from Hebrew by Jessica Cohen
Born in Ramat Gan in 1967, Etgar Keret's books were published in more than 40 languages. His writing has been published in the New York Times, Le Monde, The New Yorker, The Guardian, The Paris Review and Zoetrope. Over 60 short movies have been based on his stories. Keret resides in Tel Aviv and lectures at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. Among the prizes he received are the Prime Minister's Prize (1996), the Wingate Prize (2008) the St. Petersburg Public Library's Foreign Favorite Award (2010) and the Newman Prize (2012). In 2007, Keret and his wife, Shira Geffen, won the Cannes Film Festival's prestigious "Camera d'Or" Award as well as the Best Director Award of the French Artists and Writers' Guild for Jellyfish. In 2010, Keret was honored in France with the decoration of Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. His latest book, The Seven Good Years, was chosen by The Guardian as one of the best biographies and memoirs of 2015. Keret was recently announced as the winner of the 2016 Charles Bronfman Prize in recognition of his work imparting an inspiring humanitarian vision.
Wedding season’s over. Put your pants back on.
They make you kneel to get measured and it feels like you're getting knighted.
That’s because the kilt’s length runs from navel to knee. The last time you felt compelled to show a stranger where your belly button is, you were probably 4.
Lucas Jackson / Reuters
Turns out you’re just a wee bit vain.
Before the kilt: "I cut my own hair and my trousers zip off to become utility shorts."
After: "How am I supposed to enjoy my reflection in your sunglasses if you keep moving your head?"
You're also indecisive – there are a million ways to wear a kilt, and each one says something different about you.
Do you pair it with a swanky Prince Charlie jacket or a rustic Argyll? Waistcoat or no? If you’re brave enough, you could always try to pull off one of those lace-up ghillie shirts that say, “I am Gregor MacBoyfriend, last hunk of my village. Welcome to the cover of this airport bodice-ripper.”
You need the right footwear and your shitty suede Oxfords won’t cut it.
The safe bet is to stick with traditional ghillie brogues, even if all that lacy shite makes them look like something a fancy little French boy would wear to Versailles. For something less formal you could go with clumpy boots à la the Tartan Army and risk pulverising someone’s toes at a ceilidh.
Do secretly like the smell of your own farts?
Let’s take a walk through IRL Stars Hollow.
In October 1999, Gilmore Girls creator Amy Sherman-Palladino and her husband, Daniel Palladino, took a vacation to the tiny town of Washington Depot, Connecticut. It’s there that they got the inspiration for the town in which their soon-to-be-created show would take place: Stars Hollow.
"If I can make people feel this much of what I felt walking around this fairy town, I thought that would be wonderful," Sherman-Palladino told the Deseret News in 2001.
Alanna Bennett / BuzzFeed
It should be noted that other towns in the area were also funneled into Stars Hollow: Sherman-Palladino told the Hartford Courant in 2002 that she "borrowed from a lot of towns, but the location is a bit more Litchfield [County]," where Washington and many other picturesque hamlets are located. But Washington is absolutely the most iconically connected one.
So let's take a walk through this "fairy town," shall we?
Alanna Bennett / BuzzFeed
Tilda Swinton and Benedict Cumberbatch in Doctor Strange.
Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures
Doctor Strange is a movie in which people do magic. And oh, does magic look good in Doctor Strange.
Magic leaves sparkler trails when the characters gesture their way through spells, forming shields or whiplike weapons or cool patterns just for the showy hell of it. It makes the air crackle like a sheet of ice when they travel to the mirror dimension, which is like our dimension, only less easily damaged in fight scenes. Magic warps reality itself in Doctor Strange, making buildings fold in on themselves and streets bend and curve in impossible directions, twisting and turning like the world is a Rubik's Cube in the hands of an impatient child. It allows rooms to stretch out like elastic, then snap back into shape. Magic sends the movie’s title character, Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), spinning through the cosmos, through black-light multiverse dimensions, and through the pupil of his own giant eyeball. The look is a little bit The Matrix, a little bit Inception, a little bit Dark City, and all acid trip.
Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures
Doctor Strange — which director Scott Derrickson wrote with C. Robert Cargill (a team-up that previously resulted in 2012 horror movie Sinister) — is the story of how Stephen Strange goes from brilliant neurosurgeon to brilliant sorcerer caught up in a war over the fate of the world. It starts with Strange as the egotistical lord of his medical domain, possessed of an eidetic memory, a drawer full of fancy watches, and a failed but still flirty relationship with his colleague Christine Palmer (Rachel McAdams, languishing in a role that gives her little to do). Then a serious car accident leaves him with a hand tremor that ends his career, sending him into a depressive spiral of surgeries, experimental treatments, and, finally, on a desperate trip to another continent. He heads to Kathmandu in search of a place called Kamar-Taj, where, he’s been told, Eastern medicine might help him heal. Instead, he finds the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton), a powerful magician leading a mystical order in which students, as Strange becomes, study alongside masters, among them Mordo (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Wong (Benedict Wong).
Doctor Strange is, without a doubt, the best-looking installment of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, especially in 3D, which gives its gravity-flipping action sequences an added sense of delirious dizziness whenever they turn on an axis and re-establish which way is down. In a franchise increasingly cluttered with a growing cast of characters and all the business they have to tend to, Doctor Strange is led by and indulges in its visuals in a way that’s refreshing, intent on showing us exactly how its hero is getting his mind blown instead of just informing us that it’s happening. It’s a superhero story aware of the New Age absurdity of its wizard school and its fight against the forces of darkness, but it's not willing to push harder at its source material. It’s one of the better and also one of the more frustrating movies in the franchise to date, doling out its daring in maddening little half-steps.
Swinton and Chiwetel Ejiofor.
Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures
The worst of those half-steps is also a matter of visuals. Kamar-Taj is a mishmash of Asiana — it’s in Nepal, but its residents like clothing that’s Japanese-inspired, especially in the combination of robes and the obi-like sash favored by the villain Kaecilius (Mads Mikkelsen), a former Ancient One pupil gone wrong. Strange, upon arriving, is shown a book in which an MRI chart is placed alongside a chakra and acupuncture one. The latticework panels that line the walls look like chinoiserie, while the courtyard seems modeled after a Buddhist temple. The saffron garb the Ancient One is first spotted in seems to recall those of a Buddhist monk as well, though it’s not religion she teaches, per se — more a new way of looking at the universe. Christine, when she re-encounters Strange, muses that it sounds like he’s joined a cult, and Kamar-Taj does, at times, feel like a particularly demanding meditation retreat. It calls upon a classic kind of Orientalism, blurring culture to revel in a vague sense of Asian exoticism without bothering with specifics, and, more pressingly, without the people.
Doctor Strange was criticized early on for casting Swinton to play a character originally written as an elderly Asian man, a decision Derrickson has defended as a way of sidestepping the musty stereotype of the magical Asian dispenser of wisdom. It is absolutely unsurprising that Swinton is terrific in the role — embodying ageless beings is one of her many strong suits, from her gender-switching, century-spanning turn in Orlando to her patchouli-scented vampire in Only Lovers Left Alive. But not even the rewarding sight of a mischievous, hairless Swinton informing the film’s self-centered protagonist, “It’s not about you,” can obscure the point that Doctor Strange has missed. The film doesn’t actually get away from the cliché of a white guy soaking up Eastern wisdom and turning out to be a more gifted practitioner than the people it originated from. It just scoops out and replaces the character who’d traditionally be the source of all that wisdom, rather than figure out a way to improve and deepen him. In doing so, Doctor Strange ends up treating Asianness like it’s a lifestyle choice rather than having anything to do with culture or race.
Cumberbatch and Benedict Wong.
Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures
It’s a problem that resonates with the struggle Marvel has been facing recently in adapting properties that rely on either Yellow Peril or Eastern mysticism clichés or both for TV, from Daredevil’s magical evil ninja club the Hand to the upcoming Iron Fist, featuring another white character who gets steeped in mystical Eastern knowledge. In some ways, Derrickson’s awareness of these issues highlights the problem with his movie’s lateral move to address them. It opts for erasure instead of the updating that’s managed just fine for the character of Wong, who’s shifted from servant to compatriot and who benefits from actor Benedict Wong’s excellent deadpan. These are choices that flatten some of the fizzy buoyancy that otherwise carries Doctor Strange along. This is, after all, a movie that allows its baddie to believe for a fair stretch of time that its main character’s name is “Mister Doctor,” and that plunks said main character in an enchanted cloak that tenderly wipes away his tears.
Strange is almost too comfortable a fit for Cumberbatch, too close to the haughty genius that made him famous in Sherlock — all cerebral, all certainty. But Doctor Strange finds room for the actor to poke at the fragility beneath his character’s shell of self-assurance in a way that he clearly relishes, to quip about Beyoncé and grow a beard of sadness and learn to handle not automatically being the standout student in magic class. Strange is a smug perfectionist whose sense of place in the universe (and sense of self) gets shaken up when he can no longer prove he’s the best at what he does. His journey toward becoming a better person as well as a formidable sorcerer may feel inevitable, but the final act cleverly challenges some of the conventions of the blockbuster big finish, from the spectacle of mass destruction to the massive battle. Strange ends up in line to partner with the Avengers in a future, overstuffed installment, but in his own film, for now, he moves to his own beat. It’s imperfect, but it’s enjoyable, and it sure looks good.
Tiny pizzas are our second-favorite kinds of pizzas.
Starting today in NYC, a three-day pop-up is serving TINY VERSIONS of the city's best dishes.
And when I say tiny, I REALLY mean miniature.
I mean, just LOOK at this pie.
After putting in your order, you can watch as the tiny foods are prepared.
Me, doing my makeup alone in my room: So today I’m going to start with my favourite foundation.
This important consideration:
This ridiculous expectation:
This smooth opener:
This crazy stigma:
SHE DID THAT.
Diana Alvarez and her 5-year-old daughter, Kylie Rae Brooks, have a lot of things in common — especially their obsession with Beyoncé.
Alvarez told BuzzFeed News she's been a fan since the Destiny's Child days, and got Kylie hooked from the time she was a baby.
"I thought it would just be a phase, but to this day, her love for her just grew," Alvarez said.
The two even went to Beyoncé's Formation World Tour in May after Alvarez surprised Kylie with tickets on Valentine's Day.
"She was beyond excited, and danced and sang all the songs, which she knows by heart," Alvarez said.
So, when Alvarez recently asked Kylie what she wanted to be for Halloween this year, her answer came as no surprise: She wanted to dress up as Queen Bey herself.
“All I want to say sorry for is sorry for not being sorry cause I tried to feel sorry but I don’t.”
Kids. They give straightforward advice.
They're honest. Just like we raise them to be.
A little too honest.
"Miss P made me write you this note, all I want to say sorry for is not being sorry cause I tried to feel sorry but I don't".
Sometimes they're just too cool for school.
"he is a big nerd".
ingaa74 / Via instagram.com
Mark Davis / BuzzFeed News; Alamy
10. Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers (1995)
Courtesy Everett Collection
Director: Joe Chappelle
Writer: Daniel Farrands
Not even Paul Rudd can salvage the mess that is Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers, a shockingly misguided sequel that seeks to explain Michael Myers' seeming immortality and his desire to keep slaughtering family members. It involves a Druid cult and the curse of Black Thorn, and if your eyes aren't already rolling back in your head, you're a stronger person than I. Curse doesn't even feel like a Halloween movie, and that's partly because the familiar characters have been recast: Rudd takes over as Tommy Doyle, the kid Laurie babysat in the first Halloween, while J.C. Brandy replaces Danielle Harris as a grown-up Jamie Lloyd. But mostly, the problem is how mired the film gets in exposition, answering questions no one needed answers to and ditching all the horror and suspense in the process. There's a significantly different producer's cut of Curse that supposedly corrects its mistakes, but it also implies that Michael (George P. Wilbur) is the father of his niece Jamie's baby, a deeply upsetting plot point that was obviously cut for a reason.
9. Halloween: Resurrection (2002)
AF archive / Alamy Stock Photo
Director: Rick Rosenthal
Writers: Larry Brand and Sean Hood
Nearly every other Halloween ranking will deem Halloween: Resurrection the absolute worst, and that's entirely fair: This is a bad, bad movie. But it just barely surpasses Curse for the sole reason that it's occasionally dumb enough to enjoy. Resurrection is a cavalcade of impressively stupid decisions, but at its best, it has the camp to earn midnight movie status. Conceptually, Resurrection was probably ahead of its time — it follows a group of college students filming a livestreamed reality show in Michael Myers' house — but that doesn't make the execution any less ham-fisted. The biggest crime the film commits is the retcon of Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) decapitating Michael at the end of Halloween H20. Turns out, she just offed an innocent paramedic, allowing Michael (played by Brad Loree here) to return and kill her in the opening scene of Resurrection. It's downright tragic that Curtis's swan song was in this P.O.S. — and her kissing Michael on the lips before plunging to her death adds insult to injury. Oh, and the second-biggest crime this movie commits is cutting Tyra Banks' death scene.
8. Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers (1989)
AF archive / Alamy Stock Photo
Director: Dominique Othenin-Girard
Writer: Michael Jacobs, Dominique Othenin-Girard, and Shem Bitterman
The only thing you really need to know about Halloween 5 is that, at the end of the film, Michael (Don Shanks) removes his mask for Jamie (Danielle Harris) and — this is not a joke — cries a single tear. (Side note: Remember when Laurie shot both of Michael's eyes out in Halloween II, and then it was never mentioned again? Cool.) Harris is the best thing about Revenge: She has the difficult task of playing mute for most of the film, but she delivers a grounded and believably terrified performance that's even stronger than her work in Halloween 4. Donald Pleasence is also delightfully intense, as always, but Revenge does an exceptional job of exposing what an awful psychiatrist he really is. At one point, he essentially threatens Jamie that if she doesn't share what she knows about Michael's whereabouts, Michael will kill her. Samuel Loomis: great with kids! This isn't the lowest point in the series, but it's clear Halloween writers were running out of ideas. There aren't really any surprises here, and there's very little in the film that wasn't done better elsewhere in the franchise.
7. Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982)
Courtesy Everett Collection
Director: Tommy Lee Wallace
Writer: Tommy Lee Wallace
The problem with Halloween III isn't that it has nothing to do with Michael Myers — it's that it's a completely muddled mess. This is a film called Season of the Witch that isn't about a witch at all. It's a haunted mask movie where most of the killing is done by androids. The villain's evil plan involves microchips that contain fragments of Stonehenge. The more you try to explain Season of the Witch, the less sense it seems to make. So while there are individual elements that work reasonably well here, the overall effect is confusion (and yes, the fact that Michael is nowhere to be seen certainly doesn't help with that). The idea of an anthology film series, linked only by the general theme of Halloween, is not a bad one. Unfortunately, the mistakes of Halloween III and the cold reception it earned forced producers to return to the slasher formula and the familiar adversary of the first two films. And so, the third Halloween movie ends up being worth watching only as a novelty. As long as you're not looking for logic, watching an obnoxious family get overrun by snakes and insects is at least entertaining.
6. Halloween (2007)
Dimension Films/Courtesy Everett Collection
Director: Rob Zombie
Writer: Rob Zombie
As far as 21st century reboots of classic slasher films go, Rob Zombie's take on Halloween is easily one of the most innovative. At times, it's actually quite successful — not the slow burn suspense of the original, but a uniquely styled modern slasher that captures Zombie's eye for artful gore. The problem with this Halloween is that it's also something of a prequel that tries to explain where Michael (Daeg Faerch as a child, Tyler Mane as an adult) went wrong. And it's largely a waste of time. Frankly, it's scarier if we don't know why Michael snapped: Overexplaining his motivation drags everything out, and the attempt to get the audience to sympathize with the monster is futile. (Zombie did a much better job at forcing compassion for serial killers in his best film, The Devil's Rejects.) The parts of Halloween that are more directly a remake of the original actually work quite well: They're familiar, with a distinct Rob Zombie flair. Scout Taylor-Compton's Laurie is an exceptional Final Girl, and her showdown with Michael is the high point of the film. Danielle Harris also makes a glorious return, now playing Annie Brackett.
5. Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers (1988)
Galaxy International / courtesy Everett Collection
Director: Dwight H. Little
Writer: Alan B. McElroy
Here's where we first meet Danielle Harris as Jamie, Michael's niece and his primary target in Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers. The film never reaches the heights of the original Halloween or even Halloween II, but it's at its best when it's a cat-and-mouse game between Michael (Wilbur) and Jamie. There are some genuinely thrilling moments in the film's final act, including Jamie and her foster sister Rachel (Ellie Cornell) trying to evade Michael on a roof, and Michael stalking Jamie through a school. If Halloween 4 focused on these simple but effective scenes, it would be a triumphant return to the series for Michael. But there's too much else going on here: The vengeful rednecks who are out to rid Haddonfield of its boogeyman and Rachel's fight with another girl over a boy make the film feel like it's spinning its wheels. To be fair, once Return does reach its conclusion, it's a very good one. Michael getting shot repeatedly after being hit by a truck is overkill, to say the least, but Jamie donning his mask and appearing to pick up his murderous mantle is a wickedly dark twist.
4. Halloween II (2009)
Marsha LaMarca / Weinstein Company / Courtesy Everett Collection
Director: Rob Zombie
Writer: Rob Zombie
Rob Zombie's sequel to his Halloween reboot is much more clearly a Rob Zombie film, which works to its advantage sometimes and holds it back at others. Other films in the Halloween series have toyed with the idea of exploring the consequences of violence — Laurie ending up institutionalized in Resurrection, Jamie getting stabby in Return, etc.— but Halloween II is the darkest look at what horrific trauma actually does to people. Laurie is broken, a hysterical, pill-popping mess who can't help lashing out at Annie, who is also physically and mentally scarred from her run-in with Michael. (Again, Taylor-Compton and Harris do great work with the material.) Zombie also exaggerates the worst qualities of Loomis (Malcolm McDowell), reconceiving him as a shameless profiteer and fame-hungry egotist. But Halloween II also exposes Zombie's weaknesses, like his fascination with incessant violence (did we really need to see a guy's face stomped into oblivion?). The worst aspect of his sequel, however, is the ghostly presence of Michael's mother (Sheri Moon Zombie), who keeps popping up with her damn white horse.
3. Halloween II (1981)
Courtesy Everett Collection
Director: Rick Rosenthal
Writers: John Carpenter and Debra Hill
The original sequel to Halloween picks up immediately after the first film, with Laurie (Curtis) rushed to the hospital and Michael Myers (Dick Warlock) missing. While the first film was admirable for its restraint, the sequel gets to be a little more playful. And so we see canoodling nurses and doctor's assistants, a little boy with a razor blade in his mouth (recall the urban legend about apples on Halloween), and murder by hot tub. But even if some of these additions can be a bit much at times — I repeat, murder by hot tub! — the tone of the movie is very much in line with the first. Rick Rosenthal is no John Carpenter (I mean, Carpenter didn't have anything to do with Halloween: Resurrection), but he still knows how to maintain the right level of suspense. And while Laurie certainly knows more here than she did in Halloween, her loopy, drugged-up state gives her inevitable showdown with Michael a nightmarish feel. It's worth noting that it was this film and not the first Halloween that revealed Laurie to be Michael's sister, and while that's a fun twist, it was almost better when Michael was stalking her just for the hell of it.
2. Halloween H20: 20 Years Later (1998)
Courtesy Everett Collection
Director: Steve Miner
Writers: Robert Zappia and Matt Greenberg
Horror went through some major changes in the time between 1981's Halloween II and 1998's Halloween H20: With Scream, the slasher genre became more self-aware, and the Final Girl became less of a victim and more of a vampire slayer. And so, when Laurie and Michael (here, Chris Durand) face off in H20, the film becomes an action movie, with Laurie pummeling Michael relentlessly. She is the aggressor, pursuing him whenever she can gain the upper hand. In the end, she purposely flips a van and nearly kills herself in the process, all so she can make sure that Michael is gone for good by chopping off his head. It's glorious to watch. But H20 also works in the moments Laurie isn't kicking Michael's ass — with clever homages to the original two films and a return to what worked in the first place, it's surprisingly scary and a lot of fun overall. Oh, and the cast is an embarrassment of late ’90s riches: Josh Hartnett, Michelle Williams, LL Cool J, Jodi Lyn O'Keefe, Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Not to mention Curtis's mother Janet Leigh's cameo, another nod to slasher film history.
1. Halloween (1978)
Compass International Pictures / Falcon International Productions / Ronald Grant Archive / Mary Evans
Halloween is smart, brilliantly paced, and — perhaps most impressively — still one of the most terrifying movies ever made. No subsequent film in the series has ever really come close to it, and few other horror franchises have reached its heights either. The slasher genre owes a tremendous debt to Halloween, which refined ideas put forward in earlier films like Psycho and Peeping Tom and laid the groundwork for the ’80s slasher revolution. What's striking about Halloween when you watch it now, especially if you're used to the more frenetic, blood-soaked horror films of the last couple decades, is what a slow build it is. Aside from the murder of Judith Myers (Sandy Johnson) in the opening scene, Michael (Nick Castle) doesn't kill anyone for the first 53 minutes. It's all about building tension: Michael lurks and he watches, and that's far scarier than his actual attacks. When Laurie and Michael finally do come face-to-face, there are less than 15 minutes left in the movie. But they are harrowing, from Laurie screaming for help as Michael calmly pursues her across the street to the terrifying scene where Michael finds her hiding in the closet. Altogether, Halloween is pretty close to perfect.
Concealed lips or clumpy mascara?