Halloween: Resurrection (2002) Script

You've heard of the tunnel.

The one we all go through sooner or later.

At the end, there's a door.

And waiting for you on the other side of that door... is either heaven... or hell.

This is that door.

Why is this patient in lockdown?

They didn't tell you about Laurie Strode?


You must have heard of her. Sister of Michael Myers?

Michael Myers, the serial killer?

Well, you'll hear all the gossip soon enough.

For now, let's just get--

No, no, no, wait. Tell me about her.

She decapitated a man.


Oh, my God. Why?

Halloween. Three years ago.

Twenty years after the first murders... her brother finally found her.

Tracked her down to the school where she was working.

There were several murders.

Lots of confusion.

Guys, over here!

Oh, my God. She killed the wrong person.


Father of three.

Why didn't the paramedic say something?

His larynx had been crushed.

Don't let on you know.

Hello, Miss Strode. Did you enjoy your dinner?

She hasn't said a word in years.

Extreme disassociative disorder.

The doctors think she's a suicide threat.

They found her up on the roof more than once.

Must be the guilt.

Now all she does is stare out that window.

God knows what she sees out there.


Anyone out there?


-Holy shit! -Ha ha ha!

Harold, are you trying to give me a heart attack?


How the hell did you get out again?

And who are you supposed to be today?

Oh. John Wayne Gacy.

Born in Chicago, Illinois, on March 17, 1942.

Come on, big guy.

Killed 33 people. Buried them under his house.

I know, Harold.

-He was executed on May 7-- -I know, Harold.

Willie, I'm not trying to criticize your work... but if you put Harold in his room... how come I see him in the basement?

I--But just two seconds ago, he was--

Come on. Let's go get him.

How many times do I have to tell you?

You gotta be sure what you're doing.

Willie? What are you doing?

I skipped dinner.

-Hurry up. -OK.


Harold, what are you doing down here?

What's gotten into you?

Aah! Aah!

Aah! Unh!


Hmm. Ted Bundy.

Born November 24, 19...

Hello, Michael.

I knew you'd come for me sooner or later.

What took you so long?

You failed, Michael.

You want to know why?

Because I'm not afraid of you.

But what about you?

Are you afraid of me?

Are you afraid to die, Michael?

I just have to be sure.

Unh! Unh!





I'll see you in hell.

Michael Myers.

Born October 19, 1957.

Killed his older sister, October 31, 1963.

Killed 3 high school students, October 31, 1978.

Also killed three nurses and a paramedic, same night.

Was believed to be dead, then killed four students...

Was believed to be dead, then killed four students...

Hillcrest Academy, 1998.

Has been missing, unheard of, last three years.

Now he's back.

Carl Jung tells us... that the human psyche contains... a figment of ourselves... that even the collective unconscious denies.

Good morning, Paul. It's nice to see you in class.

Am I keeping you up?

What do I mean by all this, people?

I mean that inside all of us... there lurks a dark, malevolent figure.

A kind of boogeyman, if you will... that Jung called what?

Stick with me, people.

Take that Kierkegaardian leap of faith.

Jung said we must face down our fears... and face up to the figure he called...what?

-The shadow. -The shadow.

Yes, Sara, very good. Thank you.

I'm glad somebody was awake. Wow, what a class.

Hey, Sara!

Sara, wait up!

I've been looking for you everywhere.

Guess what?

Uh-uh. What did you sign us up for this time?

Eee, ha ha! We gotta find Rudy. Come on.

Hey, Rudy.

Don't distract me.

I can't help myself.

I am distracting.

Have you checked your email?


Why? Did you send me something?

We're in! They picked all three of us!

-What? Are you serious? -Uh-huh!

Oh, God! Yes!

All right. That is all good.

This isn't one of your little jokes, is it?

No, but Sara doesn't want to go.

I might go. I just haven't decided yet.

No, no, no. That is unacceptable.

It is unacceptable.

We're gonna be bigger than "The Osbournes."

We're gonna be large.

Every time I let you two talk me into something...

I live to regret it.

Listen, without me, you would die of boredom.

Us! Without us, you would die of boredom.


Are you sure they're not just putting us in some house... with hidden cameras in the shower?


It's like we're investigative reporters... searching a crime scene.

And look at the scholarship.


Besides that, thousands of people... are going to see my face... our face.

Don't do it.

That's the house where it all started.

He walked its hallways, hid in its closets... dreamed in its bedrooms... helped his mother in the kitchen... watched TV in the living room with his dad... played in his sister's bedroom.

Then one day, he picked up a knife... and he never put it down again.

That guy's fucking weird.

Don't pay attention to him. He's trying to scare us.

I just need to send a quick email.


"you'll never believe what I got myself into."

Deckard? Who's Deckard?

Oh, it's my screen name.

Sara needed some tech support setting up her offline reader... so I, uh...

You told her you're a graduate student?

-Graduate of what, junior high? -Shut up, all right?

We talk every day. It's kind of like we're dating.

She's never even seen you... and Yahoo chat rooms do not count.

Yes, they do count. Did you know in the old days... knights used to spend their entire lives... courting ladies that they would never even touch?

They would just send each other sonnets and stuff.

That's before internet porn, man.


Now what are you doing?

Just give me a second, all right?

I hope Sara shows up.

And wearing something acceptable.

She can't still be mad at us for the last time.

Here she is. Hey!

OK, everybody listen up!

Sara, are you gonna wear this?

I thought I told you we were gonna be on camera.

I'd like to start this off by saying the search is over.

You six have been selected... to explore America's worst nightmare-- tomorrow night, Halloween... live, in front of the whole entire internet universe.

You six will enter the birthplace of evil... in its purest form-- the childhood home of our most brutal mass murderer...

Michael Myers.

Thank you. Thank you.

So, what do you hope to find in the house tomorrow night?

My way into network broadcasting.


I just want to say that Michael Myers... is not just a man behind a mask... he's a legend.

I'm interested in how Michael Myers... embodies the politics of violence... embedded in pop mythology.

Never underestimate the effect of a poor diet.

Too much protein, not enough zinc, next thing you know... you're cutting up bodies in your bathtub.

Look at Hitler. He was a vegetarian.

The brother was seriously malnourished.

You don't have to go far to find Michael Myers.

He is the great white shark of our unconscious.

He is the dark-eyed child of our spirits.

He's every murderous impulse we've ever had.

He's the little voice that whispers to us... to strangle the old lady... taking too long at the checkout counter.

Get to know him, baby.

He's you.

Tell us, Sara, why do ordinary people turn to murder?

Well, I, um...

I think it has something to do with upbringing.


Damn! That girl can sing.

That's what I'm looking for. Ooh.

Ha! Hunh!


Get his ass! Get his ass! Get his ass!

Who's better than Wat Chun Lee?

Whoopin' everybody ass while he's smokin' a cigarette.

Oh, shit. Who's knockin' on my door this late?

Whoever this is is distracting me... from seeing Wat Chun Lee whoop some ass.

Sara? Ooh.

Sara, what are you doing here? It's late.

I'm dropping out.


I'm sorry.

It's just I'm so freaked out I can't even sleep.

Slow down, slow down. What's the problem?

Can't you see I'm not like the others?

I know you're not like the others.

You know you're not like the others.

The others ain't nothin' but a bunch... of smart-ass, wise-crackin', posin' wannabes.

You are the real deal.

Every existing element about you... is what the internet audience really wants.

I don't want to be famous.

What do you mean you don't want to be famous?

That's the American dream.

I think I'm just scared.

It's OK to be scared.

Being scared is good. Fear is good.

Fear motivates.

Fear gives you the feeling of being alive.

Fear makes me want to throw up.

Trust me, please.

When it's all said and done, at the end of the day... you'd be surprised of how much you surprise yourself.

I'm sorry to bother you. I just--

It's OK. Do me a favor. Sleep on it.

We'll talk about it tomorrow. You can sweat it tonight, man.

Now take your tail on outta here and go to bed.

Ol' Freddie boy, damn, you good.

Shit you come up with off the top of your head, boy.

Why don't you just pat yourself on your back?

Oh, Wat Chun Lee! Oh!

Now, are you coming out soon... or are you planning on subletting?

Mmm! Sexy girl! Ha ha!

Don't you think it's a bit too revealing?

I think it's perfectly revealing.



Are you OK?

Did you see the boogeyman or something?

The boogeyman? How very Jungian.

Dr. Mixter's class? I'm taking that course, too.

I hope they have this in black.

-Thrift stores. -Oh, how marvelous, darling.

Ahh, there she is.

Oh, my God, you've been pussy-whipped.

What's worse, you've been cyber-whipped.

By the way, where's your costume?

I can't go out tonight.

I promised Sara I would watch her first episode.

She's really nervous about it.

No, Mickey Stern's party is tonight, and you know that.

Oh, yeah. I'm sorry, man. I guess I forgot.

Forgot? Do you have any idea... what it means for two freshmen to get invited?

It's never happened before!

Your sister invited us... so you wouldn't tell your mother about her tattoo.

That's besides the point, Myles Barton.

You can sit here in your little dream fantasy world... or you can come with me to this party... and learn to walk like a man.

What's it gonna be?

All right, let's go.

Ahh, chat room romance?

He's just a friend.

He's probably fifty and bald, with a bad toupee.

-Jen. -Probably collects human skin.

Give me a break, Jen.

OK, everybody listen up.

I'd like to start off by saying... the home that you will be entering tonight... has been rigged up with several cameras... but for the most part... the audience will see only what you see.

See these cameras right here?

I kinda like these cameras.

They can pretty much be clipped on to anything.

A hat, shirt collar, your coat collar.

The viewers can pretty much control... what they want to watch... switch around from camera to camera... depending on what seems to be the most intriguing to them.

So if you guys want to be stars for the night...

I suggest you do something that is very interesting... so that it's worth the while of the viewers... to want to keep their cameras on you.

Cameras are so phallic.

Is that good or bad?

Depends who's watching.

Hey, Orson Welles, pick a placement and move on.

Look, low angles--scary.

High angles--scary.

Medium angles--boring.

I bet you learned that shooting... all those weddings and bar mitzvahs.

Hey, hey!

I went to Long Beach State. Same as Spielberg.

NORA: Charley, we're on a schedule here.

Tell Max to rig a camera in the sister's room.

Max is back at the hotel helping Freddie.



Baby, calm down. It's all good. Just relax.

I got it all under control.

There was this Firebird parked in front of the house.

Totally about to ruin the establishing shot... but I called a tow truck.

Yep, it's on its way.

All righty. Bye.

Look at you, Charley. That's a nice angle, boy.

Look, there he is now.

All right, here we go.

Mr. Harris!

Can we ask you a few questions, Mr. Harris?

-Right over here. -I got one word for you.

-What's that? -Product placement.

-Oh, yeah? -Yeah.

Product placement, I like the sound of that.

While we're going around the house... discovering the secrets of Michael Myers... we could be drinking Pepsi or sporting The Gap, right?

Nice sexy thinking. I kind of like that.

How's everyone doing this evening?

We'll get it started like this, see?

In the next ten minutes... we are going to enter a mystery... wrapped up inside of a riddle inside of an enigma.

Now, remember this. Everything you see... absolutely everything you see is real.

There's no actors... none of the components or contents in the house... have been messed with, mixed up, diluted... or tampered with in any shape, form, or fashion whatsoever.

Now, I'm not exactly sure what's gonna happen... but what I do know is that no one will be allowed... to leave until the show is over.

Our state-of-the-art camera surveillance system... will pick up anyone who tries to sneak out.

Let the Dangertainment begin out this motherfucker.

Well, people, let's do it.


Way to go. This is gonna be fun.

I read that after the murders... the family just sealed it up... and left without taking anything with them.

It's not exactly a house you put on the market.

Yeah, but I'll bet it has... one of those big nice old kitchens, you know?

Where are you going?

I'm gonna check it out.

What are we gonna do?

We don't have to do anything.

Technically, we just have to be in the house.

Aren't we supposed to be looking for answers?

The devil made him do it. I'm done.

We owe it to the people watching... to at least take a look around.

Oh, that's cute.

You're already worried about your fan base?

You are this close to getting voted off the island.

Hey, check this out.

You want something tasty and delicious?

You ever tasted forty-year-old fennel?

Eww, don't. It's got to be rotten.

-That's strange. -What?

-It smells fresh. -Yeah, it does.

You know, Donna, you got great legs.

What time do they open?

That'd be 1:00?

God damn.


You think this is the one that he used to do his thing?

No. They'd keep that in an evidence locker somewhere.


-Boo. -Aah!

-What, are you scared? -No.

What's in here?

What is that?

OK, so I admit... that this place is a little creepy, OK?

No, no, no. You have no idea.

-Look at this. -Wow, a chair.

My God.

Do you think they actually kept him in this?

What is that?

Looks like the medieval key to Sara's chastity belt.

-Rudy! -OK, yeah.

Maybe we should poke around a bit... see what else we can find.

Ha! Aye-aye, captain.

Why are you touching me?


Go poke.

Hey, what's going on?


Look at you!

Scott, what are we doing here?

Hey, come on, man, be cool, all right?

Relax. Have fun. Shit.

Hey, Myles, do you think anyone will know... we're supposed to be from "Pulp Fiction"?

-Huhh! -Huhh!

Today, you're scared of the boogeyman.

Ha ha ha!

He's gonna get you. He's coming behind you.


Ohh! Shit!

Careful, Jen.

Ahem. Hands off, bud.

Bet this is Judith's room.

You know, the older sister.

The one he killed when he was six years old.

Hey! Keep the camera on the money here.

I think it happened when she was right there.

Poor little Judith... helpless... brushing her hair... young...and naked.

Yeah, because that's gonna happen, right?

Come on, Jen.

One flash, and you could light up... a thousand computer screens.

Launch your whole career.

You think?

You crack me up.

It's a good wardrobe for you, Jen.

Wait! No! There was somebody else in the hall!

Come on.

Come on, lover boy.

-Whoa! -Aah!

What are you doing, you big perv?

They're exploring the house of a mass murderer--live.

You want to watch?

-No way. -Sure.

Oh, OK.

Impulse control disorder.


That's my theory.

I think Michael Myers had fits of rage... that he could not control.

Kind of like a klepto or a nympho or a pyro.

So, instead of stealing silverware... he slashes the necks of teenage girls, huh?

Oh, come on... haven't you ever had an impulse that you could not control?

-Continuously. -You mean continually.

"Continuous" means continuing uninterrupted... while "continual" means reoccurring periodically.

Donna, when are you gonna get out of your head... and start thinking with your body?


Does that line ever actually work... on the chicks in the music department?

Art history, too. Sometimes even poli sci.

Well, it doesn't cut it with critical studies.


Besides, screwing a music major... would be tantamount to lesbianism.

I could get into that.

Sara, I'm telling you, it's in the food.

Remember that guy who was on trial... for murder in San Francisco?

All he ate was Twinkies.

Rudy, do you ever think about anything other than food?

Wouldn't you like to know?



What's going on?

-What happened? -I don't know.

I turned my back for a second and she was gone.








Turn it down!

-Gotcha! -God, you bitch.


That's not right, OK? You're foul.

Uhh, so foul.

This is to us, for successfully-- let me give you a little more-- puttin' together something collectively... so ingenious as a team and a duo... that we should definitely be able to secure... a lot of food on the table for ourselves... as long as everything goes as nicely... as it's goin' right now.

I'm gonna get her back for that.

Watch me.

Oh, my God!


Oh, no! No!

Mm. Mm.

Wait, what just happened?

-We just lost Bill's camera. -Oh, shit.

He must've dropped it. Fucking idiot.

Find another view quickly, please.

Freddie, relax.

I think this is going really well.

-Really, baby? -Yes.

We are doing our thing.


To Dangertainment.

Salute. Heh heh heh.

And this must be the bed where he was conceived.

Stop showing off, Jen.




-Sara! -Jen, help me!

Are you OK?

Rudy, help. Sara!


-God. -What happened?

What is that thing?

Hey, is this that Michael Myers thing?


A'ight, cool.

Yeah, OK.

What is this?

Oh. Sorry.

Are you?

You're such a Lothario.


I don't know what that means exactly, but...

Just go with it.

Hold on. I just thought of something.

Hold on?

You've got to be kidding me.

What, are you looking for "Playboys"?

This ain't right.

Well, it's obvious that the boy was subject... to emotional and physical abuse.

No, all of this. It's not right.

It's too easy.

Why is all this stuff still here?

Answer that, Nancy Drew.

Where's Bill?

He's probably still mad at me.

He's gonna jump out of somewhere and scare me.

You watch.

You watch.

Jim? Uh.

You know, if I'm keeping you from something... just let me know.


-Voilą. -Clever boy.

See, they're looking for clues.

Something that might explain why Michael Myers went bad.

-Oh. -Jeez.

Hey, Scott. What's up?

God, nice costume.


Hey, you think they kept him down here?

Maybe. Look at this.

What? What is it?

It's some sort of weird harness.

This whole place looks like some sadistic playpen.

Ah ha ha.

And you know what that makes me think?


There's definitely no cameras down here.

I could be a camera.

Say something smart.

Existence precedes essence.

God, you are sexy.

Whoa! Oh, shit!

That worked perfectly!

Whoa! That is what I'm talking about.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! All his victims!

It's a mass grave!

Oh, my God!

Oh, God.

All of his victims. Oh!

Shit. Look at this.

I don't fucking believe this.


Made in fucking Taiwan.

Oh, shit, man!

Charley, where the fuck you been?

We've been lookin' all over this motherfucker for you!

And why the hell are you dressed like me anyway?

I ain't payin' you to be Michael Myers.

I'm playin' Michael Myers!

If them kids come around... and see us dressed up in the same shit... you'll ruin the whole effect, God damn it.

What the hell is wrong with you?

What you lookin' at me like that for?

Huh? You don't get it?

Your shit ain't workin' up there?

Take your ass in the back of the garage with Nora.

That's your job.

Go back there with Nora and help her ass out.

Go do your job.

I left the back door unlocked for your ass... to go out the back into the garage.

That's what I did.

You need to get the hell outta here.

Go on, scoot! Skedaddle!

Get the fuck out of Dodge!

God damn. What the hell's somebody gotta do... to get a little decent help up in this motherfucker?

God damn it. Come on.

Let's go find Freddie.

This is bullshit.

Hey, Jim?

You gotta see this.


Hey, Freddie.

Is this all part of the setup?

"Laurie Strode, sister of Michael Myers...

"survives Halloween night massacre."

Heh. Nice prop.


Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

Is anybody else seeing this?




Aah! Oh, my God!


Help! Somebody!

Someone help! Oh, my God!

This isn't funny anymore!

Help me! Somebody help!

This is not funny!

Oh, my God!

Stay away from me! Aah!

Aah! Aah!



That was so fake.

No, no, wait. Wait, you guys.

That really happened. She was just killed.

Man, you're gullible.

Get outta here.

It's a good thing there's no cameras in here.

We're wearing cameras.



Michael's here!

I saw him! He's in the house!

He's here!

Oh, my God.

What's going on? What you talking about?

Don't do this, girl.

You're bringing me down on this beautiful evening.

There's nobody here. You're just bugging out.

It's not funny, OK?

-Stop it, OK? -He's down in that room.

There is 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 people in the house.

There's no Michael Myers here. There's nobody.

Listen, I saw him right over there.

He's in here? Ooh. Michael Myers.

Where's Michael Myers?

Michael Myers! I don't see nothing.

-He was in here. -You're bringing me down.

Rudy, I saw--Aaaah!


Uhh! Uhh!

-Fucker! -Whoa, whoa!

Turn off the cameras!

-Get it back online. -What's wrong?

Cut to a different camera angle.

It's me. Freddie.

Freddie. What the fuck are you doing?

Damn, man, you hit me... like I murdered your fuckin' mother.

Relax, man.

I'm only tryin' to give America a good show.

So none of this shit is real, right?

Like the furniture... the photos, all the fucked up toys?

It's all fake. We've been set up.

You knew you didn't have a show anyone would watch... so you set us all up at our fucking expense, huh?

What expense are you talkin' about?

You ain't contributed a dime to settin' up this shit.

Besides, don't nobody want to see any of y'all... runnin' around no empty house... possibly comin' up with nothing any-damn-way.

America don't like reality, first of all.

Second of all, they think the shit is boring.

They want a little razzle-dazzle... a little pizazz, a little thrill in their life.

And us being the ones that give it to 'em--

I don't see nothin' wrong with that.

I did not sign up for this.

Y'all need to do me a favor, all right?

Go along with this shit. Don't blow it. Not now.

You really have no idea... of how nicely I worked things out... so that we all can receive... somewhat of a robust back end when this shit is all over.

I don't know what you want to do about your share... but please don't fuck it up for me.

I want my money, a'ight?

Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go... scare the shit out of some more of these motherfuckers... so, I'm gonna get it crackin'.

Y'all do what the fuck y'all gotta do.

See y'all. Ha ha ha ha!

-All right. -We have it.

-Turn up the sound. -Where'd everybody go?


There you are, Bill.

So what do you guys want to do?

I don't know. I could use the money.

No. Fuck that. I'm out.

Me too. I quit.


She must be going for the first internet Emmy.

You can't scare us, Jen.

You're gonna have to do better than that.

You too, Freddie.


-Eww! -How'd they do that?

-Digital effects. -No, it isn't!

Hello. 911?

Oh, my God.

-It's locked! -Fuck.

Go in there! Go in there now!

Jim, run! Run!


Oh! Aah!


Hey, Michael! Yeah, I'm talking to you.

You want a piece of me?

You should try a little less protein in your diet.

Control some of that aggression, huh?

Want some of this, huh?

I know what 911 is for!

This is an emergency. It's not a hoax.

Motherfucker, come on. Trying to fucking kill me?

Come on! You like sushi, motherfucker?!

You gonna fucking kill me?

Oh, shit.

Somebody... somebody out there, please help us.

Somebody, please help us.

She really is a very talented actress.


Deckard, if you're there, please let me know.

Who's Deckard? Myles is Deckard.

What do you mean?

Deckard, he's killing all of us.

He's killing us.

There he is! Upper right!

-Zoom in! -Go to the other camera.

Tell her he's coming up the stairs.

This isn't funny anymore! Do something!


-He heard her! -Oh, my God.

He's at the door!

Get her out!

Oh, my God.

-No! -It's too high!



I can't see you!

Deckard, where is he?

Tell her to go!

-Now's her chance. -Come on, go!

My God. Everybody's dead.

Where is he?

I don't know.

We got to get the fuck outta here now.

Come on. Let's go.

Oh, shit.


So, you want to be on Dangertainment?

Let's see what you got.




Yo, Mike, come see me.

Michael, come and see me! Look at me!

You wanna fuck with me, huh?

You motherfucker.


Let's get outta here. Come on.

You all right?

I saw his room.

He's been living underneath this fucking house... for who knows how long.

Probably the last 20 years.

Come on.

I swear on my soul...

I had no idea.

I swear.

Aw, shit.

Come on. Let's go.

Oh, my God. He cut the cable.

Where the fuck is he?

This is bad.

Deckard, where is he?

-No! -Run! Oh!




Oh, no.






You bastard!

This is for Jen!

This is for Rudy!

For all of them!

Oh, shit.



Trick or treat, motherfucker.








Burn, motherfucker! Burn!


Come on, come on!


Hey, Mikey! Happy fucking Halloween!

Sara? Sara Moyer?

-Sara? -Can we get a statement?

Hey, we can go live now.

What happened with Michael Myers?

Thank you, Deckard. You saved my life.

What's it feel like to be a hero, Sara?

How does it feel now that it's all over?

What makes you so sure it's over?

Excuse me.

-Watch the camera! -No more cameras!

Dangertainment is off the air.

Why don't y'all show some respect?

Mr. Harris, would you like to make a statement?

What can you tell us about Michael Myers?

Michael Myers is not a sound bite... a spin-off, a tie-in, some celebrity scandal.

Michael Myers is a killer shark in baggy-ass overalls... that gets his kicks off of killing... everything and everyone that he comes across.

That's all.

We're done dancing for these cameras.

Let's get outta here, Sara.

But how are you feeling right now?


How am I feelin' now?

You wanna know how I'm feelin' right now?

Feel this!

My camera!

That's him, isn't it?

I want to see his face.

I want to warn you, ma'am, it's not a pretty sight.

All right.

Come on, back it off. Let's go.


You're lookin' a little crispy over there, Mikey.

Like some chicken-fried motherfucker.

Well, may he never, ever rest in peace.

Hey, how's it going?

You've gotta be kidding me.

Another one?

It's your lucky night.

You got a celebrity.

Ooh, let me get my autograph book.

I'm not kidding. It's Michael Myers.


Get me a copy of that autograph.

-Yeah, sure. -Ha ha!

It's cracking me up.