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Hallows Eve: A Horror-ble Movie

Existence is a fleeting thing, so fleeting that today feels like it has already gone, and tomorrow will be here, banging on our doors and demanding we come and have a go if we think we’re hard enough. With the knowledge of our limited time on this rock, it mystifies me why I spend my time watching terrible films, and then writing about them. But here we are.


Hallows Eve is what happens when someone tries to rip off Attack the Block and Halloween at the same time, without the competence or understanding of why those films work. The broad stereotypes which make up the gang who apparently run the Hallow Estate make up the bulk of the cast, and they are all cringe inducing in both their dialogue and attempts at performances.

Hallows Eve is a bit like Shank which, if you’ve not seen it, may be one of the worst British films ever made. The class politics of setting a horror film on a council estate are parallel to Shank’s attempts at tackling knife crime in a way which ends up glorifying it.

An incredibly drawn out segment involves one of our characters donning a disguise, taking us into a first-person perspective as they try and escape their situation. It attempts to homage the opening of Halloween, but in execution, becomes an even more rubbish and boring version of that scene from Doom.

The film effectively has two leads which is two too many. You have Darren who is played by someone so hilariously middle class that his attempts at a “rough” character has as much edge to is as a One Direction photo shoot with kittens and linen sheets. The other is Darren’s sister who is played by a woman so old she could be his mum. I actually thought that she was meant to be the mum’s lesbian lover at first before the expository dialogue made their relationship clear.

Oh no, hold on guys, I’ve just realised that the true horror that this film is trying to convey is the ravages of age. Cassie’s withered complexion serves to remind us of our own impending mortality. The reaper’s unrelenting swing of the scythe which comes for us all one day. The scythe which is now a little closer after wasting my time watching the car crash that is Hallows Eve.

About Jack Campion

Jack Campion is an English Literature graduate who is currently studying a master’s degree in the same field at the University of Reading. He is an aspiring writer, penning various pieces in the form of poetry and short prose. He also runs a personal blog, Trash Dungeon, where he posts film reviews. The blog can be found at https://theninthcircleblog.wordpress.com/.

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