Psst, buddy! This movie sucks!
Danny, Synth, I'm placing the blame right on YOU for the existence of this sequel. The Fear was bad, it was awful, but you two raised it to a sick sort of immortality with your years-long campaign of hate against it. I understand your motive (it deserved the derision), but if you'd only kept quiet, it would've been ignored just like any of a zillion other pieces of unexceptionally awful crap. This sequel is all your fault! Blame! Blame! Blame!
Okay, just had to get that out of my system.
The Fear: Halloween Night provides just about everything you'd expect. In a bad way. It's every bit as bad as the original, I'm sad to say. I just wish I knew why the box said "subtitled".
Morty the wooden dummy is back. He's being used in an Indian ritual out in the woods by young Mike (Gordon Currie) and his family and friends, in which they hope to face and defeat their worst fears. (AUGH!!! AGAIN with the ol' "face your worst fear" shit!) Then Morty comes to life, talks (!), teleports (!!), shape-shifts into people and trees (!!!), and is substantially more agile than in the first movie, where he appropriately shuffled around like Al Gore.
Seems like everything that can go bad here does. Every time that Indian guy shows up on screen, we hear that "look! An Indian!" whistle that film scorers have flailed out since time immemorial. The dialogue gives us gems like "That thing you said about feeling more alive when you're closer to death? Hold me!" (or, better yet, "I'm gonna clearcut your ass!") Fuck me, Mike even has a psychic link with Morty at one point. (bangs head against desk)
This whole "face your worst fear" nonsense is taken to new heights of stupidity here, each character getting a phobia, and having it highlighted in as obvious and cheesy a manner as possible ("Eew! Don't bleed near me!" cries out one girl right after talk about the phobias). Handcuffs are introduced conspicuously in an early scene, which leads - for a little while - into a pretty cool Mad Max homage for that guy who's afraid of making decisions, but it's resolved in possibly the worst way they could think of.
The closing credits remark that the movie is "In precious memory of..." two people who are, no doubt, begging the maggots to eat faster. I'm ashamed to be from the same country as this movie. I'll be even more ashamed if a second sequel turns out to be my fault. Kinda nice to see Betsy Palmer as Mike's grandma, though.
Avoid. And keep quiet about it this time.
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