The Daily Think

Ah, Halloween III: Season of the Witch. The oft-forgotten, unloved stepchild of the Halloween franchise. Sandwiched between iconic slasher giants and bereft of Michael Myers himself, it has endured years of scorn, jokes, and outright hatred. But allow me, for once, to make a case for Halloween III as the best film in the Halloween franchise—because honestly, what’s better than a horror movie that, instead of featuring a relentless serial killer, delivers an unhinged story about evil masks, mind-control TV broadcasts, and Stonehenge? Clearly, Halloween III deserves a seat at the head of the Halloween table.

The Beauty of Completely Ignoring Your Audience

What other movie in history has gone out of its way to completely disregard the desires of its fanbase? Halloween III set a new standard here by boldly declaring, “Michael Myers is overrated. Let’s focus on… masks.” After two slasher flicks where Myers stalks teens and murders them in increasingly horrifying ways, the studio thought, “Why not try something new?” And “something new” they certainly delivered. Gone are the overplayed thrills of a silent, masked figure lurking in shadows; instead, we have Conal Cochran, the maniacal owner of Silver Shamrock, a mask-making company that uses Halloween as a vehicle to carry out a plan so convoluted that it defies all logic. And somehow, this shift works—if only as a beacon of anti-fan service. The filmmakers had the audacity to look at their wildly successful formula and say, “Nope, we’re gonna take this in a completely different direction.” This takes courage, nay, hubris! Which I can only applaud.

An Absurd Plot That Gives the Middle Finger to Logic

If Halloween III excels at anything, it’s at being almost hilariously incomprehensible. Take the plot, which revolves around Cochran’s desire to trigger a national disaster on Halloween night by unleashing mask-induced horrors on every unsuspecting child. The masks contain tiny chips with fragments of Stonehenge in them. These chips, when activated by a television commercial jingle, melt children’s faces and release insects and snakes from their skulls. This level of imagination is staggering! Who else but Halloween III writers would think of linking Celtic magic, modern television technology, and child-murdering masks? Forget about plausible motives or coherent plans; Halloween III doesn’t care. And why should it? To question the story is to undermine its genius. To call it nonsensical would be an insult to its pure, unbridled creativity.

Tom Atkins: The Hero We Deserve (But Definitely Don’t Need)

Unlike your typical horror protagonist, Tom Atkins as Dr. Dan Challis isn’t a teenager running for his life or even a formidable hero battling an evil presence. No, he’s a boozy doctor with questionable morals and the stamina of a brick. The casting choice is nothing short of spectacular. Instead of a young, spry hero, we get a middle-aged guy with a 9-to-5 who’s reluctantly dragged into the horror. Dr. Challis is everything you could want in a Halloween hero, assuming what you want is a character who embodies the same sense of confusion and bewilderment that the audience feels watching the film. Atkins gives us a performance that says, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m being paid, so let’s get through this.” Truly, he’s the hero we deserve.

Iconic Villainy, Minus the Icon

Let’s take a moment to appreciate Conal Cochran, the film’s villain. Sure, he’s no masked Michael Myers, but he is a megalomaniac who creates masks that kill children. If that’s not horror, I don’t know what is. Cochran’s motivations aren’t based on revenge or an insatiable bloodlust; no, he’s simply fulfilling some vague druidic prophecy with all the self-righteous zeal of a mad scientist who, for some reason, has access to Stonehenge itself. Cochran’s dry delivery and smug satisfaction as he explains his twisted plan to Dr. Challis might just be the finest villainous monologue in horror history. His commitment to killing kids in the name of “tradition” is impressive, albeit baffling. By ignoring any need for realism, Cochran becomes the perfect Halloween villain.

The Masterpiece of Silver Shamrock

It would be irresponsible to talk about Halloween III without mentioning the true star: the Silver Shamrock jingle. This annoyingly catchy tune repeats the phrase “Eight more days to Halloween, Halloween, Halloween…” until it is embedded deep within your brain, where it will continue to haunt you for the rest of your days. It’s a musical earworm so effective that it might actually be more terrifying than Michael Myers himself. In fact, the Silver Shamrock jingle is so relentless that, had Myers encountered it, he would have abandoned his murderous ways just to destroy all televisions broadcasting it. The jingle is the most horrifyingly cheerful countdown to disaster ever created. It’s so infectious that you find yourself humming along as children everywhere are mindlessly drawn to their doom. Bravo, Halloween III, bravo.

A Brave Stance on Not Even Attempting to Be Scary

One of Halloween III‘s most admirable qualities is its utter refusal to be genuinely scary. Where other Halloween films try to terrify with shadows, suspense, and stalking, Halloween III chooses instead to terrify you with the sheer absurdity of its own plot. It’s like watching a slow-motion trainwreck, and you can’t look away. Rather than jump scares or creepy atmosphere, Halloween III opts for ridiculous scenarios—such as when Dr. Challis and Ellie, the love interest, uncover the mask-making facility, or when Cochran gives his villainous speech about Stonehenge. The film takes this strange path as if to say, “We could scare you, but instead, we’re going to weird you out.” In some ways, it’s genius. The “horror” here is a cerebral one, forcing you to question your life choices for even watching this movie.

Subverting Expectations by Doing the Opposite of What Anyone Wanted

Most horror sequels stay close to their roots, giving fans exactly what they came for—more gore, more terror, and, of course, more Michael Myers. But Halloween III dared to say, “What if we just… didn’t?” This film was so bold, so reckless, that it discarded Myers entirely. Instead, it introduced a bizarre, standalone narrative, banking on the idea that Halloween could be an anthology series instead of a single-character-driven franchise. It’s hard to fathom any studio nowadays making such a radical departure from what fans want. Halloween III spits in the face of predictability and fan service, taking the road less traveled. It’s a statement in cinematic rebellion, and that’s a rare gem.

A Lesson in How to Alienate an Audience… and Win?

In some bizarre, almost poetic way, Halloween III has achieved a kind of cult status because it’s so profoundly unfaithful to the franchise it represents. The film’s refusal to conform to expectations has led it to become something of a legend. Over the years, audiences have reexamined it, often out of sheer disbelief. Many watch it thinking, “There’s no way this is as bad as people say it is.” Then, after witnessing the spectacle that unfolds, they realize it might be even worse. And yet, they keep coming back. Why? Because Halloween III is unlike anything else. It’s become a rite of passage, a badge of horror fandom honor to say, “I’ve watched Halloween III all the way through and lived to tell the tale.”

In Conclusion: Halloween III, a Flawless Masterpiece?

Is Halloween III the best Halloween movie? In terms of sheer enjoyment, possibly. But the enjoyment isn’t from being scared; it’s from witnessing the most outlandish, illogical, and ridiculous horror plot imaginable. It’s a bold experiment that crashed and burned—and yet, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of incoherence, it has become immortalized in horror history.

Halloween III: Season of the Witch doesn’t care if you hate it. In fact, it almost demands your hatred, feeding off it, basking in it. The more you despise it, the stronger it grows. And for that reason alone, it is, without question, the greatest Halloween movie of all time