Myers, shot by a mob, drifts, remains dormant in the latency of sleep and healing for a year. "Gonna wait a whole year then get back to it. That'll show them. Can you feel it? It'll be my time, the time of masks and candy."
In the meantime, little niece had became a pawn of the system, with its tile floors and ammonia scent. We are treated to nothing but visions. Screwy visions in the laundry, a tradition in these films with the killer lurking behind pinned blankets and such, mocking household chores with his single-minded murdererness. We have the misplaced anxieties of the little girl and her handlers, juxtaposed with the halfhearted bachanalia of the teenagers in which their lethargy and repose is punished by violent murder. A pitchfork even enters the fray, but not for gathering hay, rather for impaling a youngster. Coitus, hedonism, murder.
The lonesome woods-the grasses and the trees-and the searching lights of the car represent the heartwomb, search after loss; not an attempt to reach Michael but an effort to confront him, something they seem for which they seem woefully unprepared.
Without giving away the ending(who gives a damn?), I'll say that themes of family, parenthood, drive the narrative, with even the surrogate father Doc Loomis getting into the act, attempting to bring the Myers demons to a sensitive place, like an implosion therapy, collapsing the personality, with even the niece getting into the mix, playing dead, and Michael approaching her. This was a lost moment of the film, a part in which the music of emotion becomes a long sustained note, like a solo where a crescendo may have been needed.
And it would take him all night to get to his prey, because that one has to be last. He's going to take out everyone in between him and the girl. Jealous-hearted creep. Then to see her playing possum, lying in the coffin and approach, and to have her speak to him, and he's thinking "I dreamed this", the film gets uncomfortable, maybe he gets uncomfortable in a way we have not seen before, too.
Well. Usually I don't like horror films about kids, and this was no exception. So I don't find it too difficult to wait around between these films, like Myers himself, as if waiting for producer Akkad to drum up some more cash for a sequel. Back to the point: the girl is confused, muddled, Myers is wearing a mask as if in denial, and an unidentified deliverer is in play. Only Myers is sure who he is, and, hell, HE'S WRONG. His victims are dissociated little punks who feel alienated-the outcasts, the young and dumb.