I have a night off on Halloween. It's Halloween for me every night. Let everybody else be Ozzy for the night. People go out dressed as me.
But I can think of nothing on earth so beautiful as the final haul on Halloween night, which, for me, was ten to fifteen pounds of candy, a riot of colored wrappers and hopeful fonts,snub-nosed chocolate bars and SweeTARTS, the seductive rattle of Jujyfruits and Good & Plenty and lollipopsticks all akimbo, the foli ends of mini LifeSavers packs twinkling like dimes, and a thick sugary perfume rising up from the pillowcase.
I see horror as part of legitimate film. I don't see it as an independent genre that has nothing to do with cinema.
The horror of it is, every goddamn thing you look at seems pretty scary to me.
John and I had a few meetings about what direction the sequel should take. I made some real insane suggestions. True to what you'd expect, he ignored them all and just picked up Halloween II where the original left off.
He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. Is not life a hundred times too short for us to bore ourselves?