What I’m watching: Lyle the Crocodile slays Michael Myers

Date: 10/25/2022

New to theaters: “Halloween Ends”

The wordless menace of Michael Myers goes up against his illusive rival Laurie Strode for one last clash in “Halloween Ends.”

Indie director David Gordon Green’s modern “Halloween” trilogy continues to garner divisive reactions. Some praise his attempts at confronting the slasher genre’s blood-soaked norms with thoughtful meditations on trauma and manifestation of fear as a source of decaying humanity, while others critique the director for adopting a half-hearted balance of scares and social commentary. I enjoyed the director’s work on “Halloween” and “Halloween Kills” – two films that reinterpret horror trademarks effectively despite some clumsy execution choices.

Green concludes his trilogy with the franchise’s most ambitious project to date. I respect the spirited home run swing “Ends” attempts, with the film sidelining Myers for much of the runtime in favor of showcasing the Haddonfield community’s descent into fear-mongering madness. Unfortunately, this overpromised and underdelivered final chapter struggles to satisfy its noble thematic pursuits.

Diehard fans of the “Halloween” franchise that already felt alienated by this modern trilogy will unquestionably not be converted by “Ends.” Audiences have hard-wired expectations of the rhythms that the slasher series should hit with each entry – a formula Green ignores with gleeful reckless abandon here.

In a world where remakes and reboots often feel encumbered by the success of their beloved predecessors, “Ends” at least earns points from me for trying to build upon the franchise’s foundation. Viewing Michael Myers not only as a fearsome killer, but also as a source of dread that morphs the Haddonfield community into a cruel populace that searches for an outlet to voice their emotional baggage at, feels exceedingly relevant to our volatile times. I think Green’s eye for grander personal and cultural ramifications infuses a new sense of agency into the franchise’s well-traveled roots.

I found myself fascinated by “Ends” for what it attempts, but the execution leaves something to be desired. Green and co-writer Danny McBride bite off more than they can chew in terms of narrative, blending the age-old rivalry between Jamie Lee Curtis’ Laurie and Michael, played by James Jude Courtney in this reboot iteration, with its newfound focus on Corey Cunningham – a Haddonfield local who becomes the victim of the town’s vitriol. While both concepts work in a vacuum, the screenplay does not give either arc enough room to breathe. The result is a film that sprints breathlessly toward the finish line without coloring its concepts with proper nuance. Perhaps introducing Cunningham in “Halloween Kills” would have allowed the character to develop with more naturalism onscreen.

Strictly from a horror perspective, “Ends” also pales compared to its predecessors. Most of the gruesome kills are designated solely for the third act, and while the set pieces are executed with enough technical poise, there isn’t any sequence that feels particularly innovative. It’s especially disappointing that the much-anticipated showdown between Laurie and Michael ends with more of an anti-climactic whimper rather than eliciting its intended edge-of-your-seat thrills.

“Halloween Ends” is a commendable yet unsatisfying conclusion to the Laurie Strode-Michael Myers story. Horror fans looking for something to watch in theaters are better off with the far superior “Smile” instead.

Also Playing: “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile”

A shy child befriends a singing crocodile as they both undertake an odyssey to discover their voice in “Lyle, Lyle Crocodile.” Live-action family films often serve as ominous trap doors for older audiences, with a majority of the genre’s output cynically achieving the bare minimum as they mug their way toward greedy paydays (the recent “Tom and Jerry” and “Smurfs” films are signifying examples). I understand these films are catered to a young audience. Still, I don’t view that as an excuse when several other family films can resonate effectively with audiences of all ages.

“Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” and its bland marketing campaign certainly didn’t inspire much optimism for me, but going to the cineplex can often breed its fair share of welcomed surprises. While far from revelatory, “Lyle” offers viewers a vibrant and endearingly earnest celebration of positive virtues that audiences of all ages can appreciate.

The creative team here deserves ample praise for injecting an infectious spirit throughout “Lyle’s” runtime. Veteran comedy directors Josh Gordon and Will Speck are adept at creating a light-hearted tone manifested from an array of slapstick comedic gags and cheerful speeches. They also establish a fast-and-furious pace that whisks viewers along with breezy comfortability while effectively side-stepping many of the genre’s common contrivances. Forced pop culture references and clumsy attempts at adult-centric humor are thankfully kept to a refreshing minimum here.

Screenwriter Will Davies achieves commendable results in his adaptation of the beloved book series. Davies cleverly frames our young protagonist Josh and his new crocodile friend as emotionally introverted mirrors of one another. Josh spends his days consumed by anxiety about the bustling world around him, whereas Lyle remains in hiding due to fears that he won’t receive acceptance for who he is. Together, the duo forms a loving relationship forged from their kindred bond and an undying belief in one another.

This concept may be tried and true to family films, but Davies thoughtfully revitalizes his approach. Josh and Lyle’s relationship modulates between silent exchanges and grandiose music numbers, with the affectionate songs serving as showstopping moments for the characters to erode their timid personas. The decision to make Lyle non-verbal outside of the musical numbers is ingenious, as it allows the expressive visual effects to relay the character’s emotions without the genre’s typical heavy-handedness. Shawn Mendes also performs suitably in bringing the film’s somewhat generic yet effective musical numbers to life as the voice of Lyle.

In addition, Davies’ narrative journey touches upon themes of acceptance, perseverance and self-actualization – concepts that are commonplace to the genre but executed with enough genuine goodwill here. I also enjoyed the screenwriter’s inclusion of Hector Valenti, a showman who adopts Lyle as a baby with plans of commodifying his unique talents. Hector’s reoccurring appearances throughout the film reinforce the importance of pursuing one’s passion for personal expression rather than financial exploitation. Of course, it helps to have Oscar winner Javier Bardem enrich Hector with his versatile skill set. The actor’s expressive persona and quick-witted charm morph his con man facade into a well-rounded character.

Don’t get me wrong, “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” is no masterpiece. The film’s narrative playbook rehashes quite a few played-out platitudes, and I don’t expect many viewers to be surprised by the predictable twist and turns that occur during the runtime. What the film ultimately lacks in innovation, “Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile” more than makes up for in its open-hearted sincerity. I think this is a family film that should excite younger viewers while offering adults a welcomed surprise.