Scott Marks 11 a.m., Nov. 8
Forty years and numerous sequels and/or reboots have passed, and there’s not a moment in any of them to rival the slow thrust of steadicam butterflies at play in John Carpenter’s original. The well-ordered stalking and resultant butchery of a pair of morbidly obsessed fanboy and fangirl public radio podcasters that opens this so-called continuation indicated that David Gordon Green might be the talent needed to nudge the franchise in a new direction. And kudos to Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) for having aged into a “boogeygirl” doppelgänger, haunting the same spaces in the frame that her sociopathic counterpart once occupied. But no sooner does the sun set on Halloween eve than the promise of originality quickly fades with it. What follows is a business-as-usual remake, right down to the P.J. Soles clone whose boyfriend is dying to hang around her. Credit women with most of the stabbing and shooting, but don’t for a second confuse the barefaced role reversal with any kind of feminist statement. 2018.