Directed by: Bryan M. Ferguson, Casper Kelly, Micheline Pitt-Norman, R.H. Norman, Alex Ross Perry, Paco Plaza and Anna Zlokovic
Rated: NR
Running Time: 115 minutes
Shudder
Our Score: 4 out of 5 Stars
Any time a filmmaker invokes Halloween in the title, or sets a story on All Hallows’ Eve, they invite scrutiny. It’s a built-in promise: deliver ghouls, thrills, nostalgia, and enough mayhem to satisfy the most haunted corners of our brains. The eighth entry in the “V/H/S” anthology franchise embraces that challenge head-on. It seemed inevitable since 2021, when the series began dropping a new found footage anthology every October, mixing horror veterans and newcomers into a blender of unpredictable storytelling. Now that “V/H/S” has finally pulled the trigger on Halloween, did they pull off a trick or a treat?
The wraparound story, “Diet Phantasma,” feels like Sam Raimi directing “Halloween III.” It follows scientists testing a soda infused with poltergeists, with gloriously gruesome results. If you thought earlier V/H/S films lacked in body counts, this segment makes up for any shortfall with gleeful, over-the-top carnage. The simple premise is absurd and excessive in all the right ways. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t connect all the others, it’s simply trying to one-up everyone.
If the wraparound didn’t knock you for a loop, then “Coochie Coochie Coo” will. It’s a nightmare of gestation and grotesquery. Two teens out trick-or-treating stumble into a postpartum hellscape filled with horrifying baby-faced creatures and graphic lactation visuals. It’s weird, unsettling, and will scar parents and teens in very different ways.
The next short, “Ut Supra Sic Infra,” from “REC” co-creator Paco Plaza, is sadly the weakest short of the bunch. It doesn’t take full advantage of the found footage format or bring anything new to the party. Cops, attempting to figure out what led up to a deadly scene, find themselves becoming a part of the next deadly scene. Nothing memorable. Fortunately, it’s short and quickly gives way to “Fun Size,” a demented Adult Swim–style fever dream about greedy teens who defy the classic “please take one” candy rule. Their punishment? A Willy Wonka–esque descent into candy-coated abandoned warehouse doom. It’s goofy, gory, and rewatchable in all its sugar-fueled chaos. Never have gumballs and silly costumed characters been this deadly.
Then comes “Kidprint,” the anthology’s darkest and most grounded short. This short unearths a horrifying truth behind missing children and a local video store. It’s the only segment that fully explores Halloween’s thematic potential: loss of innocence, hidden evil, and the darkness in everyday people. It’s a bleak breather, tonally distinct and all the better for it. While it may not have the same zippy fun as the others, it reminds us that any good Halloween should have some creeps and scares.
“Home Haunt” offers us a unique bow before letting “Diet Phantasma” close things out. This Halloween crowd-pleaser might trigger a lot of happy memories for viewers: a DIY haunted house. I definitely had one in my neighborhood, but this suburban house haunt becomes too real after the homeowner plays a mysterious vinyl record. It’s clever, campy, and carries the right mix of nostalgia and nastiness.
“V/H/S Halloween” captures the essence of this time of year by being consistently violent, funny and at times unsettling. Every short, with the exception of “Ut Supra Sic Infra,” leans into Halloween aesthetics, traditions, or anxieties. While the stories don’t connect narratively, the seasonal spirit binds them with orange-and-black twine. There’s a reckless energy here that captures what Halloween feels like for people like me, costumed chaos, sugar rushes, and the lurking fear that something in the dark is more real than you think.